This is what media is supposed to do.

I keep up with a blog by Julie in New York (I think). Julie writes about infertility and related issues, and is currently deciding if she will continue with in vitro fertilization to have a second child, or pursue other options. I became interested in her blog last summer, and now, even though I'm at the end of a completely uneventful pregnancy (thank God), I'm still hooked.

Earlier in the week, Julie made a grid weighing the pros and cons of her options for having a second child. Here's what stood out to me - she has a moral issue with adoption. If I understood her correctly (and Julie, if you read this, please forgive and correct me if I am wrong), she isn't completely comfortable with benefitting from another woman's loss. In other words, behind every sweet healthy adopted baby is a woman, who, for whatever reason, will never see her baby again. This caught my attention because it never occurred to me. When I think about adoption, I think about how a child benefits from having a family, versus being raised in a system. I see her point, I think, it's just the first time that I've heard it. I'm glad for blogs that bring up something I've never thought about before.

Also, All Things Considered on NPR had a commentary this week by Lennard Davis talking about disabilities in the media. Click here to read an excerpt (which, unfortunately, does not include the portion that caught my attention, so I'm relying entirely on my hormone-addled brain to get the details straight). The commentary talked about Michael J. Fox and Rush Limbaugh and working so hard to appear "normal" in front of the camera, when "normal" for Fox would include his symptoms of Parkinson's disease, rather than hiding them to make the general public feel more comfortable. When I was working in early intervention, we used to talk about how children with disabilities' lives, though different from ours, become normal to them all the same. I've always had a healthy body, so I just assume that everyone who doesn't have one wants one. Is that naivete? Maybe. Or has our society moved so far away from absolutes that even healthy and unhealthy aren't clearly defined? I don't know. But I was glad for something new to think about. I live in a small city and it's election season and there's been nothing new to think about for months here, when, yay!, there were two new thoughts in one week.

Speaking of interesting weeks - one more thing:

Luke has a blog, and though Luke and I don't know one another, we've had mutual friends for years, so occasionally I read his blog. He made this statement in his most recent entry: "but each day when i'm leaning out of the drive-thru window handing some overpaid yuppie or plastic housewife or some snobby private school trust fun kid their drink, i want to puke or cry." Believe me, Luke, having worked at everybody's favorite coffee shop for ten months now (about eight months longer than I ever thought I would), I can relate. Even so, I take exception to this statement. First of all, the cliche about biting the hand that feeds you comes to mind. Second, were I not serving their coffee, I'd be behind them in line. It's my favorite American excess, and whatever that says about me is okay with me. So I have to defend the plastic housewives and trustfund kids, because if I could, I would join them, and then you'd have to find a witty cut-down for me, and then I would be offended. But I get your point, I really do, and every morning about 6:15 I think to myself, What am I DOING here?

Thanks guys. This is what media is supposed to do for us. It should present a different opinion, give us something new to think about. Thank you, Julie and Lennard and Luke. You all made my week more interesting.

Want to see his nursery?

I posted pictures of it this morning. Click HERE.

i'm off!

to Nashville!

Yay!

10-17-06

1. I'm ready for elections to be over ... I'm ready for NPR to talk about something new.

2. What is love? Love is the willingness to continually adjust my Chaco straps (because they are an engineering marvel, the mechanics of which will forever confuse me) to fit my continually swelling feet. I don't know what I'll do when it gets too cold for Chacos. I may literally be barefoot and pregnant pretty soon. Thankfully we're so far south that Asher may be here before it gets that cold.

3. The best part of fall? No more heat. The worst part of fall? Shedding dogs.

4. Neither of us sleeps very well these days. About once a night, Brian and I have a conversation in which we are both mostly talking in our sleep. Sometimes I wake up enough to remember it. One night he thought I was sleeping on the dog (I wasn't - just some pillows). Last night, he shook my arm and said, "I just wanted you to get up in time to eat a good breakfast." "What time is it?" I said. He rolled over and looked at the clock. "Never mind." It was 2 am.
So what's that about? I know that women in their last trimester start losing sleep, but why is Brian restless, too? Sympathy sleeplessness, maybe? My guess is stress, but who knows ...


Eventually I will actually WRITE something, but today is not that day.

This is me, 30 weeks pregnant.

Click HERE.

10-9-06

I just finished reading Dogs of Babel. For those of you who've read it, what did you like about it?

it's saturday morning again, and you know how i love saturday mornings, so much that i ...

Have a new song for you. Like to hear it? Here it go.


The Longing
by Andrew Osenga

Felt it when I fall to pray
It’s a dark fear, wouldn’t go away
Felt it and I stayed awake
Because I needed you so bad.
Felt it when I saw her eyes
Wished that I could get inside
For a moment there I lost my pride
I just wanted to be known.

Oh, it’s the longing
As the night is set on fire
Oh, it’s the longing
This raging desire
As the night is set on fire

Sunday morning, the truth it stings
Tears are waiting in the wings
As I see your heart for what it is
And the pain is just too much.
Was I naming it a million times
When it caught the corner of my eye
And all my questions rounded high
I had nothing left to say.

Oh, it’s the longing
As the night is set on fire
Oh, it’s the longing
It’s raging desire
As the night is set on fire

I know that these are shadows
Of you calling me to you

Now every room just seems to shrink
Because there’s no place I want to be
I’m stuck here waiting aimlessly
A thousand miles away.
I’m a grown man now, and I don’t know why
All I want to do is cry
Something’s burning deep inside
God, I want to feel it.

Oh, it’s the longing
As the night is set on fire
Oh, it’s the longing
It’s raging desire
As the night is set on fire

again

HEEEEEEEHHHHH (this is the sound of dramatic inhalation in preparation for ...)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR BRIAN AND LANE AND MO-OOM, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU.

Come one, come all, come join us for cookie cake at Linda's house tonight.


A PS For Those Who May Be Interested - Asher has started kicking so hard he's visibly moving my skin. It looks like a scene from Alien.

... or just a stirring in my soul

I feel like I used to be a basically interesting person. I used to have thoughts worth writing down and sharing (or not sharing, depending on what they were), and read new books and listen to new music and do new things. I used to care enough to argue about an idea, or at least form an opinion about it. You guys know this, right? We had some of those arguments here, or on the phone, or walking the dog, or in restaurants in various Southern states. I used to have something to say, if not something to prove. I used to be stirred up by things.

Not anymore.

The truth is, I'm just too tired to talk anymore. Not just physically tired (that's actually been a little better in the past few weeks), but bone-weary from the past year. And if I'm this tired, you can only imagine how tired Brian is ... Brian, who, a year later, is STILL applying for jobs so that he can support his family, while working three part-time jobs in the meantime. Who will be thirty on Friday (and who has SUCH a cool birthday giftie from me, though I can't tell you what it is yet). We're both just ... tired.

And the funny thing? Is that this isn't an altogether bad change.

Scripture says that we're in a good place ... blessed are the poor in spirit, come to me you who are weary, and all that. But a good spiritual position isn't really an enviable one. Usually people in Scripture who were in a good spiritual position were either stoned or healed shortly thereafter. But we're not martyrs, and we're not doomed. We're just waiting for this season to pass, for things to come together, as they always do.

Joy and perseverance, right? That's how this baby got his name, because that's the season into which he has entered our lives. Perseverance is gathered in the doing, and joy, like peace, is a condition of the soul. I guess that, like many of you, I've exchanged talking about life for doing it. I'll admit that talking was easier, and more fun. And I got to do it face-to-face with most of you, which was probably the best part of all of it. My life really isn't like that anymore.

I told Kimberly tonight, one day we'll have great stories from all of this. But I wonder, when I get to the "after" of this particular season, will I spend my time talking about what I used to do, or will I be busy doing the next thing? Life doesn't move backwards. When this is over, what will get me stirred up?

10-2-06

The Way I See It #131

Have I resigned myself to having less and less resolute opinions because:

A) I don't want to be disliked?
B) I'm in therapy?
C) I've grown up?