We had a visit with M & C today. It was the first time either of them have been to the house. Ever. I was a little anxious. In other news, the ocean is really wet and really big…

The visit went okay. M looks good; she seems a lot happier, and she got to spend quite a bit of time with School Girl. C’s doing okay, about as well as can be expected. They had a wonderful time visiting with School Girl (at least I think they did), and she was beside herself with joy at being able to show them her room, some of her school papers, her letter to Santa – just all of her life that goes on here at home. We went out to lunch at our local pizzeria, came home so that School Girl could open her presents, and said goodbye.

Like I said, the visit was okay. At least I think so; it was kind of hard to tell, since C is very good at hiding anything other than a happy face and M keeps her thoughts to herself. There was some of my usual thing of hiding while everybody else is visiting, but not as much as before. I still have the feeling that these visits are for School Girl, and I don’t really need to be or are wanted there, but it’s lessened a little. Just a little.

It was great to see School Girl together with her family. Yes, we’re her family too, but it’s not the same.

Anyway, Heather started the Open Adoption Roundtable yesterday. It’s basically like a carnival, with a topic/question as a writing prompt. This one’s pretty big:

What one thing would you tell your past self about open adoption, if you could? It might be a word of encouragement, a warning, or just an admonishment to lighten up already. Be as creative as you wish.

Well, here goes…

There are a couple of things that came to mind right away. The first one we learned early on, and it’s this: Open adoption is threatening to a lot of people. There are a lot of misconceptions as to what “open adoption” actually means. People, including adoption professionals, will tell you a lot of things. Many of them are not true. Practice the following phrase in a mirror, with as big and happy a smile as you can manage.

“That’s so sweet of you to worry about us. But we’ll be fine. Thanks so much! You’re just so sweet!” As soon as they leave, realize this:

• You aren’t the only one who’s having nonsense shoved into their ears. In your heart, you already know whether or not what you’re hearing is nonsense.
• As long as you’re a parent, there is a choice you’ll have to make between love and fear. Unless there is good reason for concern about a party having access to a child, it’s always better to err on the side of love.

The other thing I would say is…just like in any beginning relationship, you’re dealing with people you don’t know very well. It won’t be all sunshine, unicorns and rainbows. Be prepared to deal. Find a support group, either online or IRL. For many reasons, IRL is usually better, but we don’t always have that available to us. If we had been aware at the outset that things might be shaky over the years, it would have been easier to deal. Or not, but at least our eyes would have been more open.

Incidentally, I have a lot of things to say about the subject of a proactive approach in a social worker’s dealings with birth families, but that’s another rant for another day. Some of you know me well and already know what I have to say – for now, that’ll do.

Last, and most importantly, don’t beat yourself up because your adoption doesn’t look like everybody else’s on The Internets. It won’t. It shouldn’t. First of all, people tend to talk about the happy and shiny on their blogs and leave the messy parts out. You know, like in real life. Second, no one person’s life is the same as anybody else’s – why should adoption be any different?

That’s about it. I wish somebody had said that all to Evil Dad and me when we first started.

This time we went to the art museum. It was the first time we had been to the new wing since it opened. Everybody had a great time. School Girl had a lot of fun. C & J seemed to have a lot of fun as well. We learned some new things about J’s family in particular, which were interesting (impressive too – his brother is a pretty amazing woodcarver, and we got to hear the story about how he got his professional start). We spent an hour or two there, then went off to lunch and then home.

Our visits are a lot more relaxed, on both sides, than they had been. I’m not feeling quite as defensive, which helps a lot. I hope things continue to go well with our visits; I really believe it’s in School Girl’s best interest that we maintain a connection to whatever parts of her family are willing to be in contact with us. It was the anniversary of when M first met us, and I thought about that on the way home.

Breakfast – same as usual, but her favorite this time. “French Toast without eggs, please.” Which is easy enough to do even on a weekday. She came upstairs to brush her teeth and get dressed without the usual 1/2 hour of pleading. She decided to wear her “birthday clothes” – a new Hello Kitty shirt and her unicorn jeans.

We got her lunch together – “something special”, so there’s tuna salad (thank Cthulhu we’re branching out) and bread pudding from Tuesday in addition to the other standbys. We packed up her birthday treats for her class. Since they’re not allowed to bring food (I only have to bake ONE batch of cupcakes! W00t!), we had picked out some dollar-store puzzles for the girls and bouncing eyeballs for the boys last weekend.

Since it’s a freakishly warm morning, we walked to school. She wanted to say goodbye sooner than usual, I noticed; I told her that Evil Dad and I might both be picking her up this afternoon, as it’s going to be a busy one. I watched her hike over to her class’ line, and turned to go.

I hope that M’s doing okay today. It’s never been the best day for her, for obvious reasons. I’ve been afraid to call her, strictly based on how things have gone in the past. I hope that she’ll call today. We spoke to C, her mom, yesterday; she might call this afternoon, even though School Girl talked to her last night.

It’s been hard to wrap my head around the fact that her birthday is today. Not April. February. I don’t think I have to explain that one, as I’ve written about that before.

So, happy birthday School Girl. The only things I have for you from that day are pictures, not stories. The stories are for somebody else to tell you, and I hope they can tell you those stories one day. We all love you more than the sun and moon and stars in the night sky. Have a great life.