Disclosure

We want to actively share Leland’s story with him. We never want him to experience a big reveal that he was adopted as an embryo. We want his story to simply be something he has always known, with deeper understanding as he grows. This is easier said than done.

I think all parents must struggle with the big question of "where do babies come from?" This is a natural question I believe all children will ask at varying ages. Thus, most parents probably wait until their child brings it up to ever discuss the child’s origin and path to joining the family.

We, however, want to take a pro-active approach to the "where did I come from" question in order to lay the foundation and in order to (hopefully) prevent Leland from ever feeling like it was a secret how he was conceived. To do this I want to write him a "when I came from" book. In the book I want the book to tell specific information about our donors, our doctors, and our trip to Tennessee to "meet" him.

The problem is....I’m having trouble finding the words. I don’t quite know how to frame things or the specific words I want to use. Do I call our donors "genetic parents" or "donors" or "friends" or just by their names? Do I actually use the word "adopted"? Do I use the word "embryo" or "snowflake" or "special gift"? Every choice seems to carry with it a multitude of implications.

Lost on how to begin I have decided begin the dialog with Leland using books others have written. I have started collecting children’s books related to where do babies come from, building of non-traditional families, embryo donation, and egg donation. My hope is that I will find several of these that I like and that "fit" and that I can use the language from those books to write our own book with the specific information added into the story.

So that’s the plan.

If anyone has any suggestions in general or suggestions for books to read I welcome all the help I can get.

And, finally, I hope to post some book review here to pass along what I find.

Perspective

There has been a lot going on lately, keeping me busy and away from blogging. I hope to update on the on-goings of life soon, but wanted to first set out some of the thoughts that relate back to my friend’s joyous announcement at my birthday dinner.

First, there is the logical, think-things-through side of me. I reasoned that I had forced her hand...put her on the spot...after all I had just offered her a margarita. And we are close friends so I wouldn’t have wanted her to lie or to hide it from me. I clung to this rationale for a while. Until I realized that Robert and I were the last to know. She had announced to everyone else (in our circle of friends) previously that week. I also discovered that she came that night with the intent to announce to us. After more thought than I ever should have given this I have concluded that some people really do not get it.

Putting aside the think-it-through, "me-focused" rationale, has given way to some perspective. I would find myself driving down that road, playing scenarios in my head - ways the announcement could have been handled better or things I could have said differently - and then my thoughts would drift to more pressing matters in my own life and in the lives of those I love. I would think about my dad and how his condition is progressing significantly; I would think about my mom who struggles each day to find the strength and courage to care for my dad; I would think about (multiple) friends of mine whose parents are fighting cancer; I would think about friends and acquaintances who have recently suffered miscarriages and failed transfers. The heartache, the loss, the worry. All overwhelming in comparison. A healthy dose of perspective.

My perspective was put to a test this past weekend. My cousin announced she is pregnant. Overall, I had a very positive response to her announcement. I’m not sure if it was the different circumstances of the announcement, the fact that I know she has had a prior loss, the fact that although younger than me she is not in my cohort and thus not someone with whom I compare myself. Either way, I am happy for her. And it feels good to be happy for her.