Friday, June 21, 2013

so mad I can't see straight

So lemme tell you about disability. It blows. It blows hard.

So back in good 'ol March of 2008 when we learned we couldn't have kids, we kinda got pretty sad about it. That took a while to deal with. Depression doesn't go away in a day. So we focued on enjoying our new house and each other's company and basically - we table the whole kid discussion completely.

Fast forward to 2010 and we're starting to feel a bit better about life. Maybe we'll adopt, we think. A couple different friends are doing it... but every time we talk to them about it, it sounds SO hard. And let's be honest. We're really tired at this point. It's been a really hard decade and we're just not sure we're up for more and more and more disappointment. We'd really like to have at least one family member that doesn't have a history of abuse or neglect. Them therapy bills - them get spendy. Oh and did I mention that any reputable adoption agency would look at a crazy lady like me and laugh...

But then, in 2011, we realize: hey! You don't have to adopt a fully born person - there's this thing called embryo adoption. It's really much easier legally all the way around. And the added benefit is then my husband and I are on equal terms - neither of us is related to the kid - it's like adoption but with less paperwork! Pop one of them in me and we're good. But, says my husband - can we wait just a year or so? I'm at a really, really, REALLY, important juncture in my career and I don't have 10 seconds of free time to even think about this. 110% of his bandwidth is spoken for. Fine. What's one more year?

And then (because, OF COURSE) the stress of everything just finally reaches some kind of tipping-point-broken-camel's-back straw and I get sick AGAIN. Not crazy in the good 'ol fashioned, just pop some lithium in her and she'll be right as rain again sick. Sick like "we think you might have lymphoma" sick. Turns out I don't have lymphoma or lupus or lyme or any of the other horrible things. I have Chronic Fatigue. What is that, you may ask? Well, there's a whole division of the NIH currently trying to figure that shit out because no one knows. My interpretation: your stress level gets so high your immune system tries to attack itself. Fun times.

OK, so I deal with a year of feeling like I have the flu and finally convince my doctor to get me some Xanax and presto - yet another major hurdle in life cleared. I'm feelin' fine and the husband's major work turning point has been passed with flying colors and it's time to decide what to do. I run into my best friend and she asks "hey, isn't it time to decide what to do?" "Yeah, I say, we're thinking embryo adoption and since I just got stabilized on this medicine, we'll hire a surrogate." "that's crazy - I'll do it!" she said. Done and done.

Except. Except.

Our doctor doesn't want to. He's uncomfortable with no one being the genetic parent. He's worried we might just walk away and abandon the child at the hospital. Although he and my husband are colleagues and we're all neighbors and live in the same town and we typically spend $1000s when our dog gets any kind of boo-boo, we're ethically sketchy to him. Maaaaybe, his team will consider it he says. Maaaaybe if we sign away all rights with the lawyer and agree to take the baby no matter if it has 15 arms and 25 heads, he'll consider it. He'll be in touch he says. Before July 4th because then he has to go to a conference. If he won't do it we can just truck ourselves and our surrogate 3 states away to another place that will. NBD - he doesn't have to buy the plane tickets or get babysitting for my best friend's kids.

Ass.
Hat.

And all of this would be one thing if he were right. But according to our lawyer, he's not. He's dead wrong. The law would make us the legal guardians. He's just squeamish and hidebound and basically, a risk-adverse jerk-ass. Because we have disabilities, we don't get the same basic rights as everyone else.

Cock.
Waffle.

Did I mention we adopted a dog? She's very nice. We like her a lot. She ate a toxic mushroom last week and we spent $800 restoring her to health. But we're the ethically sketchy ones who abandon the helpless at the drop of a hat.

Fuck.
Wad.

1 comment:

Heather said...

Hi there! I'm Heather and I have a question about your blog! Please email me at Lifesabanquet1(at)gmail(dot)com when you get a free moment!