Home Study Part II: The Anticlimax

After much ulcer inducing anxiety, the home study was a complete and utter bore. Ditzypants was 15 minutes late and stayed *maybe* at total of 15 minutes at our house. The highlights?
-How would you describe your decorating style? (lesbian chic?)
-How would you describe your landscape style? (that which requires minimal effort?)
-What churches are in your neighborhood? (apparently I looked flustered after this question [which was really just me trying not to say, how the f would I know, lapsed jews tend not to keep track of the christians in the neighborhood]...so she went on to explain it was a state law [STATE LAW!] that they include local churches in the home study even if you do not plan on attending them [honey, if you're reading this - WE HAVE TO MOVE])

And that was it.
She asked if we had smoke alarms and fire extinguishers, but did not go looking for them or try to test them (after I spent hours [HOURS!] obsessing over their batteries and functionality and placement)
She said our house looked nice.
And that she'd be in touch in about 2 weeks.
And then she was gone.

Moral of the story: If you're up for a home study...don't sweat it. But maybe read a few decorating magazines because they're totally going to want to know if you're more of a modern minimalist or French traditionalist.

PS
In case you were wondering...we're an on-sale-at-Pier1-bargainist.

PPS
You can read Part I here.

And on the 7th day, god said, "get thee to a specialist"

It is really important to me to try to breast feed our (maybe, one day) baby. I'm trying to have realistic expectations about the whole thing - that the "trying" and "at least a little bit" will be enough. I'm going to follow this protocol for induced lactation.

So, first step, stock pile birth control pills since I'll need to start a new box every 3 weeks (no placebos). I make an appointment with my primary care physician, because it's birth control. Women pop these pills every day. No big deal, right? Apparently, it is a very big deal. Dr. Spineless acts all interested at first, listens to my request for a very specific type of birth control, tells me he can't wait to read more on the subject because he just loves learning new things every day, wishes me luck, and sends me on my way to pick up the Rx that he e-filed from his handy little MD iPhone. And I get to the pharmacy to pick up my pills and it's the wrong Rx. He bait and switched me! I call the office and two days later Dr. Spineless calls me back all stuttery and uncomfortable and says that he talked to his OB/GYN friend and *they* just really don't feel OK with the protocol and I can use this *other* BC because they're more familiar with that or what they *really* recommend is that I be followed by a reproductive endocrinologist. And do I know what a reproductive endocrinologist is? They are this special kind of doctor that, blah, blah, blah...."

Really? I should be followed by an RE for birth control? I was SO MAD. And remember, this is after I paid my copay, paid for my useless Rx, and wasted my time. Ugh.

However, remember the BFF, with the new baby? Well, guess who knows a lactation consultant. I called the LC and she recommended a midwifery practice in town. I saw the certified nurse midwife yesterday who was supportive and kind and excited. And I walked out of there with the perfect Rx and 5 boxes of samples.

Me: You're going to give me all five boxes??
CNM: (chuckling) Yeah, we don't have a lot of use for them here.
Me: Oh, right....

I have to say, it was a little tough being in baby birthing central. And it still bothers me when the intake person assumes everyone is straight.

Intake nurse: What kind of birth control do you use, condoms?
Me: I don't need any.
Intake nurse: Well, you'll have to give a urine sample.

But overall it was a great experience. I ended up not giving a urine sample (TRUST ME, I am the very opposite of pregnant) and they all wished me luck, with all of it (the adoption, the bf'ing) on my way out.

Home study tomorrow. Here we go....

Home Study Part I

S and I spent all of last week anxiously awaiting our first meeting with our social worker - the one in which we are interviewed separately. I was convinced she was going to run it like Sudden-Death-Newly-Wed-Game. I thought her main goal was to trip us up and end the meeting with a gruff, "No Baby for You!" So not the case.

First of all, I don't even know how this lady made it to the appointment. She was sort of rambly and discombobulated. She couldn't focus and kept calling S the wrong name. I don't see how she's been "doing this for years". I don't even see how she makes it out the door in the morning!

The hardest part (for me) was explaining my mother (who has borderline personality disorder) without sounding like a total freak from a family that runs rampant with mental illness. I'm not exactly sure what impression she was left with. Out of our 4 collective parents, S and I are on talking terms with only 1 of them. For various reasons. Which is kind of a bummer when you're trying to convince people that your loving family can't wait to welcome a little peanut.

The majority of her questions were about timelines, when I graduated from college, when I started my first job, when I moved to what state. Kind of boring stuff. She asked us what time we usually go to bed (really?). And about our infertility treatments (which surprisingly made me very defensive):

DitzypantsSocialWorker: So you can't have kids?
DefensiveMe: YES WE CAN. We just chose not to. At this time. So there.

And then it was over. Next Thursday she comes to our house for our last meeting. According to Ditzypants, she will be there to see if our place is reasonably clean, if we have a gate around our pool (we don't have a pool), and if there are any holes in the floors or walls (again, really?).

Here's to hoping this latest hurdle goes smoothly. And that the process for obtaining the final home study approval doesn't take another SIX WEEKS like she indicated.

This BlogHer Thing

So, I've been dabbling in this whole BlogHer thing. And I have to say, I like it. I participated in a book review series, and you can read my (brief) thoughts on Girl in Translation by Jean Kwok here:

www.blogher.com/girl-translation-jean-kwok-honest-review?from=bookclub

In other news: I so have a post brewing about our first meeting with the social worker (from here on out to be known as ditzypants...that should give you a general idea of how the meeting went).

FakeMomophobia

Is that a real thing?
I have it.

Remember when my BFF got knocked up?
And then had a baby shower?

Well, she is due. In a week. (where does the time go?) And we've been hanging out. Catching up, pre-having-the-baby and all. And it's been nice. And after months of waiting, adoption things have started to happen for S and I. So not only were we talking about BFF's imminent baby, but we were talking about my potential baby. We were discussing things like sleep training and breastfeeding. And I felt like a fraud. I felt like at any moment she would point her finger at me (Family-Guy-Scary-Monkey-Style) and declare me an impostor. The thing is, that was all me. She was acting like I would be a real mom. And I was harboring anxiety that I wouldn't. She was excited for me and giving/seeking/exchanging advice with me like any two about to be moms. And I was feeling icky feelings of not being mom enough.

It kind of shocked me. I didn't know all that was there. But it's definitely real. And it's definitely a me issue. Because I don't feel that way about *other* people and their adopted children. Parents who have adopted children are real parents to me. But I have some kind of less than/ashamed thing going on in my head. And it kind of feels big. And I kind of hate it.