I don't like it here. Can you tell? I write so seldomly.
I'm stuck in my ways.
A week from today is my ten year wedding anniversary.
It's a milestone that I didn't think I would make.
No - REALLY.
It's not a time to sugarcoat things. It's not a time to romanticize this marriage that, perhaps at its core is ultimately good, but has been repeatedly pockmarked by things that are very bad. I don't like that, but it's a fact. I didn't think it would be this way, but it is.
Still, this is life and this is real. This is the way it is. I'm 40 years old. I have two kids. Jon loves me; anyone who knows him know that. It's not that. Some of it is just readjustments that I have to make; some I have made and some I continue to make. I never thought marriage would be perfect; I certainly didn't think it would be like this.
But I have a growing acceptance of that. As I integrate these experiences into the fabric of who I am, I integrate those things too. I refuse to pretend. Staying in this does not mean I am pretending. Instead, I integrate these experiences with my eyes open; sometimes wet with tears or wild with rage, but with eyes wide open. This is the man that I married. To go back and try to redo a thousand things is not fruitful. I was no angel either. I haven't always been treated well...it's true. Jon is a flawed, flawed creature who's been in therapy for more than a year with minimal results. Okay. That's all part of it.
I can stand where I am, shaking my fist into the stars and watching life pass by, or I can own everything that has happened and try to move on. I am choosing the latter.
We are adopting again. It is an active choice. I have long wanted to adopt again because I feel a deep commitment to those who are oppressed, discriminated against, unloved. I am a good mother with a wealth of blessings. Fierce advocacy, strong intelligence, a sense of detachment that gives me a personal sense of purpose without needlessly defining myself on the basis of my children. No, I'm not the mom who bakes homemade banana bread and bounces children on my knee. I have to accept that.
Older children are chosen even less than boys. I feel a strong sense toward Kally - the girl we are adopting (who is from Bulgaria, though I have not said that publicly because this time, I'm not allowed). Her lot in life will be nothing without some kind of a family. I wish that family setting could be in her home country, but it can't be. She deserves - hell, she has a RIGHT - to an education, to opportunity, to not be judged by the color of her skin or hair. She has a right to self-actualization regardless of her ethnicity (in her country, being Roma is akin to being worthless).
While she may not have the "right" to, say, an American Girl doll or a 10-speed bike, she deserves those things. This is the mission now. I am resolute to find a way to make this happen. Money stands in the way and because of Jon's stupidity of several months ago, there is no room for us to "make it up". We have to completely and totally fundraise for the majority of this adoption.
I cannot allow anything to stand in the way. Kalinka doesn't live in Pleven, in the very worst orphanage. But that is immaterial. She will be 12 years old in December and her future is worthless. It's blank. She will not be able to go to college or learn a skill. She will be cast out of her orphanage at the age of 16 with no money and no support system. She will fall victim to the pimps and become a prostitute - the same prostitutes that I saw lining the highways on the way to Pleven. I saw the girls with dark skin, living in "gypsy" villages not far from these highways. Dressed provocatively, offering themselves to willing motorists along the route.
She may become pregnant, leaving her child in an orphanage or living in terrible conditions with her child and an absent father.
I wish I could make this stop for hundreds, thousands, even millions of young women. I really do. I probably can't.
I can just change one. Well, two. Joshua is one and then Kally. When I see his face and when I try to think about how he would be if he wasn't in a family...I get a little sick. If you met Joshua, you would understand that.
We're taking donations, and selling t-shirts that say "iAdopt". (it doesn't say if you adopt kids, dogs, pet rocks, so you could use it for everything).
You can read all about the adoption on the website: www.roadtokally.com
In the meanwhile...I prepare for IEP meetings for Chelsea and Joshua...life moves on.
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