Motherland, Day 5: Thankful and thought-full

Today was intense.

It started with a provoking process session that focused around inequity and privilege and the guilt that some of us feel about it. It is clear in Taiwan that many (but not all!) people idealize, and even idolize, America. For example, the field of counseling psychology in Taiwan is modeled after American programs and studies. "Indigenous" research is an emerging area. It is important to build a body of research that reflects Taiwan's cultural perspective.

Another example: I stopped in a night market shop this evening that looked cheaper than a dollar general but had American clothes: AE, random university-branded attire, etc. I saw a pair of infant Jumping Beans sweatpants for the equivalent of $8 USD, twice what they would cost at Kohls! And all of the attire looked like rejects from a 75% off sales bin.

For me, while I can say that I understand I am privileged, I don't always know if I feel or believe it, because I never felt privileged growing up. However, when I am here, I cannot disregard or be ignorant of the fact that many Taiwanese perceive me as coming from a place of privilege. So for me to complain about my struggles may seem ungrateful.

After process time, I listened to a presentation from a professor on gender issues and career counseling. The most interesting part was that she shared her personal experience building a career, becoming a mother and juggling work and life. While I admire her accomplishments, maybe even envy her a bit, I couldn't overlook the sacrifices that she and her family have made because of her career. Her husband worked two hours away for awhile, leaving her in Taipei with two sons. She also spent two years in the U.S. with her sons, while her husband remained in Taiwan. Yes, it was hard for her, but I couldn't help wondering how it affected her sons to be without a father for so long ... and how her husband felt about it.

After lunch, I met my two new Taiwanese friends, and they accompanied me to the Child and Juvenile Adoption Information Center. At first, it seemed like the intermediary didn't have any new information. But then it all started tumbling out. It's crazy how small details -- like my birth mother's birth date -- can fill in blanks in my history, such as how old she was when she had me. I need to time absorb all the new information, but it includes learning I have not one, but two half brothers.

There was also more today: the reflexologist and dinner at a place famous for beef noodles. All good stuff, but my head is full, and I need to just think awhile. I will try to write about the other stuff tomorrow.

My final thought is one of gratitude for the new Taiwanese friends I have met. It helps me feel connected, even though I don't quite fit in. I hope one day to be able to repay their kindness and generosity.

Child and Juvenile Adoption Center

Retail therapy

Comfort food: Beef noodle soup. 

52 weeks

The past several weeks have flown by. I started writing this entry two weeks ago. And now Miss M's first birthday has already passed. I can't believe my baby girl is a year old.

Exactly one year ago, we were preparing to leave the hospital. It was the calm before chaos. Sleepless days and nights. Learning to breastfeed. Laying next to her, mesmerized by every breath, every jerky move, every blink of her bright eyes.

Fifty-two weeks later, Miss M is a cruising, babbling, silly little girl. If she's not pushing her V-Tech walker, she's dancing to its music. She likes cups and balls and chewing on her Robeez knock-offs (thank goodness I didn't splurge on the real thing!). Her favorite word is "dog." It's the first thing she says when I pick her up in the morning. "Dog?" It's also what she chants when we get home: "Dog? Dog? Dog?" as she high-tails it to his room.

In addition to dog, she regularly says "mama," "dada," "all done," "uh-oh," "ball" and "up." She has also been known to say "open," "hi," and "bye." She will high-five and clap when she feels like it. She signs for "milk" and "all done."

She takes after her mama in that she knows what she wants, and when she wants it (or doesn't). It is both endearing and frustrating. It's cute when she says, "All done," but exacerbating when she says this after only one bite ... of the fifth or sixth food you've tried feeding her for dinner.

It's hard for me to remember life without Miss M. I finally understand why so many women say motherhood makes them a better person, although I am still conflicted by this statement. I love her more than I have ever loved anything in my life. And I love myself since having her. I feel like a better person, and yet I know I'm not a better friend or wife or professional. How can I be? I have less time to devote to my friends, my husband, my job.

Miss M has filled a void I couldn't articulate prior to having her. For 30 years, I lived with an absence of a history, of roots, of a biological connection to any other human being. Realizing my daughter has my hands, for example, was a profound experience. Her palms, her knuckles, her fingernails ... they're just like mine. She scrunches her eyebrows like me. She is goofy and opinionated like me. I know she is different from me in at least as many ways as she is similar, and yet it amazes me to see myself in her -- traits I now realize I inherited, not learned. It is an amazing connection and awareness that may be hard to understand unless you have lived without it.

I didn't know I was incomplete until she made me whole.

Pity party

Who am I? Honestly, I don't know these days. I want to be a balance of everything: caring mother, loving wife, fun friend, hardworking professional. "Professional" is on hold until I return to work. This new "mother" role consumes most of my time. "Wife" comes in at a distant second. (Thank goodness my husband is a kind and patient man.) And "friend," well ...

I'll just be honest: My feelings are really hurt right now. I had been looking forward to a friend's Halloween party for several weeks. If Miss M's feeding schedule allowed, I was hoping we'd be able to make an appearance, briefly, with her. I figured at best, we'd have 30 minutes, an hour tops, before the baby would demand we headed home. We had coordinating costumes planned. It would be fun to get out with the baby, to pretend to be cool parents amongst cool friends.

It didn't occur to me that the cool friends might not welcome Miss M at their cool party. I mean, yeah, it would be weird if we were playing beer pong at 3 a.m. with the baby in the corner. Or if we had a toddler or otherwise mobile, interactive child in tow. But I didn't think an hour with a 10-lb newborn would be a problem.

I was wrong.

Maybe it's my fault for waiting until the night before to ask if it would be weird to bring the baby. But I didn't expect the answer to be "yes." And I was miffed she had to even ask if we would still make it. Of course not. I have a 7-week-old who is cluster feeding again. I'd be doing good to get her off the boob long enough to make it to your stupid party. And even if I were willing to leave her with a babysitter, it would be impossible to schedule one for that random one-hour window when I don't even know what time it would happen.

So yesterday, I was sad for many reasons. And today, even with the cute trick-or-treaters we've seen, I'm still a little sad. How can I be a friend, if my "friends" won't have me?

Yes, I know I'm being melodramatic. And yes, I will probably read this in a few days and want to blame hormones for what is probably totally irrational thinking. But this is how I feel right now.

I hope in my pre-motherhood days that I never made any of my mother friends feel this way. And if I did, I am so, so, so sorry.

Overwhelmed with love

Today was my baby shower, and words cannot describe how grateful and appreciative and loved it made me feel to be surrounded by so many people who care about us. Yes, we need stuff, and the generosity of friends and family far exceeded anything I could have imagined. But above all, I was overwhelmed that so many people would take the time to even attend a party just for me and the baby. Amazing.

I can only hope this baby grows up to have friends even half as wonderful as mine.