Speechless

I was asked if I might want to talk to a couple that had  lost their twin babies in their second trimester.

I did not want to talk to them, but I felt I had to. We come from the same country and speak the same language. I wish I had had someone to talk to in my own language when I went through infertility and miscarriage. And so, I went and talked to them. It did not feel good. It was sad and discouraging and overall extremely depressing, but they seemed to be grateful I was there for them, listening, sharing and crying with them.

Unlike me, they are citizens, and are legally allowed to adopt. But they decided to try foster care first. This was before their attempt at IVF that resulted in pregnancy and miscarriage.

Well, foster care did not work out for them. They got a five year old with fetal alcohol syndrome who was extremely violent and difficult to deal with. They were constantly pestered by their three social workers, each with a particular point of view and interests. They found it extremely hard to keep up with the state's expectations on the child's care and what they were actually able to provide with the stipend they were given. They needed a tutor and a babysitter, and the child needed constant appointments with doctors, nutritionists, speech therapists etc, all of them exerting pressure on the couple, setting up goals that were unattainable and making them feel under too much pressure. After a few months, the state decided to give the birth mother yet another chance and the child was taken away from them. In spite of all the problems this child had brought into their lives, their hearts were broken, and they decided never to do it again.

And so, they moved on to IVF.

I did not know what to say. But then, there is nothing you can say that can cheer anyone up after a story like this. At least that much I know.

My convoluted career path in the US

More than five years ago, I moved to California from North Carolina. I was happy for the spouse, who had received a really good job offer, but I did not want to leave. I had a wonderful job that I loved, surrounded by nice co-workers that I could actually call friends. Not only that, but under the new conditions, my employment authorization was going to be voided: Students' spouses can work, but workers' spouses cannot. My employer in North Carolina would have undoubtedly kept me under my own work visa. I had been with them for a year and they were very happy to have me... but I was moving to another state.

Moving to California meant starting from zero, in a very competitive job market, where employers preferred hiring someone with a green card rather than wait for an applicant that needed to get a work visa after an offer was made.

Unbelievably, it happened. Not immediately, but eventually someone in California wanted to hire me. Of course, the union protested that the employer could not make a job offer if I was not authorized to work in the US. In turn, without a job offer, I could not request a work visa. The argument went back and forth for about five months... By then I had let go. I had been engaging in all sorts of cultural, recreational and educational activities, and, more importantly, going through my first serious steps in ART.

I had resigned myself to be a homemaker when the offer letter came in. I was able to get my work visa and finally begin working in California.

I had wanted for so long to be able to work again, especially in my area of expertise, that I tolerated too many things that were out of whack from the very beginning, and then got much worse. The job was far from ideal, but it took me more than two years to admit it. Still, without that job experience, I probably would not have been hired in my current job. Also, it is during those two years that I finally got a green card.

So what's the best job I've ever had in the US? My last job in North Carolina comes to mind. In addition to working with really nice people, I also used my lab skills and my language skills, and I was helping save people's lives, which always made me feel good even after really crappy days. I actually cried when I left.

But after infertility, I am glad I am not working there anymore. Not only was I surrounded by pregnant women,  I was actually present during more than a hundred vaginal deliveries and C-sections. I shudder to think of myself doing that again.

And you know what? I am very happy to be in Northern California, where immigrants and mixed marriages are quite common, where all sorts of languages are spoken in public places, and where the weather is never too hot or too cold. There's the earthquake risk and the housing prices, but those are the only two disadvantages that come to my mind right now.

I have to admit that, in spite of all the shitty stuff in my life, it does seem that someone out there is looking after me.

Even more PO

I bet you've heard by now of the Florida man whose adoptive daughter was found dead in a plastic bag, in the very same truck where his adoptive son was found, doused with unknown chemicals that almost killed him.

I don't want to link to that horrible story. It's bad enough that I read about it.

Who decided that this lunatic can be a parent? He has other adoptive kids. He also has at least one biological child, given that it was his biological granddaughter who alerted the authorities on the abuse he inflicted on the kids. The case worker came by, was not allowed to talk to the children, and happily left to enjoy life while the little girl was killed over the weekend, and her brother came close to being killed too.

Unlike this criminal and his wife, we are not worthy of becoming adoptive parents. Neither the spouse nor I are citizens. I could (potentially) adopt a kid in my own country, but I would not be able to bring her back to the US. Adoptive kids are not considered your dependents unless you've been their parent for at least two years. But staying out of the US for more than six months means having our green cards revoked, not to mention the spouse quitting what is a very good job, far from what he could find in his own country or mine.

So here's the thing, do I return forever to the place I left searching for a better life just so that I can become a mother? There's such irony in this..... I want to stay in the US because, among many things, it is a safer place to raise a family.

Another option is that one of us could become a citizen. We will have to wait until we have been residents for five years. That means that I'll be 44 by the time they allow me to apply. I am sure I would get it, but it bothers me that we would have to wait so long.

And then there's the spouse, who does not share my feelings about adoption. I don't want to keep raising the issue because, what's the point anyway?

K's story

At some point, about three years ago, I was exhausted and wanted to stop trying to get pregnant. At about that time, one of my friends  broke up with yet another boyfriend. She was heartbroken.

Like me, she had always wanted to find a great guy and have kids. But the great guy failed to show up for her. We were both in pain for different reasons, but still tried to give each other support. It was hard, since we live so far away from each other and only communicate through chats, emails and phone calls.

And then she met Mr. Not-Quite-Right. He also had a dream of finding a great woman and having kids. Other than that they had nothing in common, unless you count the fact that they both thought that getting engaged after dating for three months was a good idea.

So my friend is now Mrs. NQR. They still have nothing in common except a beautiful baby they both love maddeningly. But they don't seem to love each other anymore. K tells me that she still wants to stay married to this guy, basically for the sake of her child. Mr. NQR does not seem to enjoy her company and avoids her as much as he can. When he's at home, he either lavishes the baby with attention while ignoring his wife, or he sits in front of the TV, oblivious to the world.

To make things worse, she has migratory issues, in the sense that if her marriage fails she might be denied a green card and be deported, leaving her baby behind. Which pisses me off, since up until her marriage she had a perfectly good work visa and never had a problem entering or staying in this country. K is in pain. She needs support and advice.

I have no idea of what to suggest. And I am feeling very guilty, because now I often find myself thinking: "At least I have a green card, at least I have a loving husband and no marital problems..." Almost as if I were using her horrible situation to feel better.

But of course, I only feel worse.