Saturday, March 1, 2014

Last year, I won eye lash extensions from a lady who had a booth at a bridal trade show. I liked them enough to pay her for a second set around the time of my wedding and then again 6 months later (today). The process takes about an hour and a half because she applies individual fake lashes to each existing natural lash. She says that a lot of her clients choose to sleep, but I don't see how that's possible with how much she gabs.

Today, we talked mostly about pregnancy and parenthood. Most of my conversations these days are about pregnancy and parenthood just as how most of my conversations were about weddings and bridal matters in the months leading up to my nuptials. Clearly, I instigate the topic both because I am trying to learn as much as possible and also because I inspire people to remember and share their own experiences in this situation.

The lady who does my lashes (K) has a daughter by adoption and never carried a baby to term, so she was less interested in commiserating with various ailments I am currently surviving. Her adoption story, though, captivated me and made the 2 hour session breeze by like a good film.

She had tried to adopt through an agency with at least three different mothers. Two of them decided after delivering to keep the child while the third strung her along for several months and then disappeared. K says she thinks the latter was using K for emotional support. They spoke daily on the phone, which cost K $400/month, and K visited the mother in Texas (from California) on occasion. K concedes that she was too involved in her life.

Later, K's husband S told the woman who cuts his hair that they were looking to adopt. That woman put them in touch with a family friend of hers who wanted to find a better home for her second child, a girl. The child's father was, at the time, being sentenced for beating her first child (who was only four months old and blind) into a coma.

The little girl was five months old by the time the adoption realized. She is now twelve years old. K made sure that her daughter understood from the get go that she is adopted but still struggles with how much information to give the girl about her father. K had written the girl's father in prison to request that he write the girl to tell her about himself, and his letter was full of stories reflecting a life full of remorseless crime. K has not given the girl this letter, yet.

Parenting is hard for a lot of reasons. But one of the big questions that I'm struggling with right now is how much truth do you give over time and when. Thankfully, I don't have any big family secrets to hide (yet!) ... other than the story about that time I danced on stage at a nightclub for money. Maybe I'll save that one for when my kid is old enough to read this blog.