Sunday, February 28, 2016

Microblog Monday--Why you were cut

My sister's sister-in-law, H,  was let go after 20 years at her job.

To be totally honest, we have never been close, but she's machatunim and that's family. What's more she spent the better part of this past year undergoing major chemo and radiation therapy for (I forget the stage--but it was higher than 1) breast cancer. 

Oh yeah, her insurance went with the job--she's trying to see what she's supposed to do now. Thank heaven for Obamacare. 

She was assured that her health had nothing to do with the reason she was cut. 

And to this I say, bullshit. 

A friend just lost her job. She had been there for a dozen years.  It came three days after she finally got a positive pregnancy test after years of dealing with infertility, and is the result of her successful IVF.  As many readers know, IVF can lead to absences at work. She asked if this had something to do with it. 

She was told it did not. 

Again to this I say, bullshit. 

Almost two years ago I lost my job of ten years. I lost it shortly after I got back from FMLA leave. Three months to be exact. I insisted on taking the full FMLA leave I had a right to, instead of just the 5 week adoption leave which I acknowledge my former company was generous enough to give. 

If I had given birth to Lotus, I'd have been entitled to 3 months leave, but I'm not going there now. 

Three months after my return I was cut. I was told it had nothing to do with my new parental status. 

Again, to this I say, bullshit. 

I think that this is happening a great deal and I am fairly sure it is underreported. I think this is happening primarily to women who have health issues. If you know someone who had something like this happen, please comment and let me know. 

If you think I'm wrong, also please let me know. 


Thursday, February 25, 2016

Even Better

If you're going through IF treatments, or are in a rough space with regard to your reproductive health and choices--this is not the post for you.

Move along.

No, I'm serious.

See, this post is about the good stuff.  The stuff that you sob over when the last thing didn't work.

I have my child. She's 3 and a half.  If you leave out that half you are in trouble.

She expresses herself. She is fun. She is wonderful.

There are some things that are even better than I imagined it when I wanted a child. Some experiences that I thought would be good, but are even better than that. Here they are.

1) The smell of freshly bathed child.

I love hugging her and toweling her off after her bath.  D does the lifting but I get the story cuddles.  She smells like baby shampoo, soap, and her own clean Lotus smell.  It's wonderful.

2) Cooking and Baking together.

We have a tower so she can help me cook and bake.  She can crack eggs better than I can. She can sift  and keep the flour mostly in the bowl. We like to cook and bake together and it is better than I even imagined it.

3) Rocking a sleeping child

Her night time routine still includes a bottle and me rocking her to sleep while singing.  Yes,  I know she's three, but I'm not willing to stop it until she wants to. If it makes her happy, I'm fine with it. Her weight as she sleeps is getting heavier, and I love it.

4) Her compassion

I prayed for a compassionate child. I got one. Oh did I get one. I recently had oral surgery and I was not "normal" mommy afterwards. My beautiful girl climbed up next to me and stroked my hair. "It's okay mommy, I'll take care of you."

5) The "You're Here" Hug

Mostly this one comes when I pick her up from pre-school.  She sees me and I hear "Mama!" and she runs to give me a hug. OH do I love this hug.

Parenting is hard, thankless, work.  But these things, make it all worthwhile.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Fain I would climb, but that I fear to fall

I got a lot done today.

I revamped my resume.

I did research for possible freelance assignments.

I wrote a bit on my novel.

I wasn't feeling well this morning and didn't go to work, dropped off Lotus at daycare. I came home, slept, watched TV, and felt better. I got to work.

My contract ends in April.

Fain I would climb but that I fear to fall.

I don't know what happens next. I will get unemployment. I will look for jobs that I think will be a good fit for me.

I will also write, blog, and try to make money from my words that way.

This is what I have always wanted. To write. To tell stories and make money from my work and from people enjoying my work.

Fain I would climb but that I fear to fall. 

Right after I was laid off we had just adopted Lotus. My mother was dying and I couldn't add one more thing to my plate.

Now, now I think I want to try. I want to spread my wings and see if I will take off.  I want to.

Fain I would climb but that I fear to fall. 

But I am scared.
Lose your mind scared.
Minutes before they put the longed for, waited for, child in my hands scared.

At one point in the life of Queen Elizabeth I, her suitor Walter Raleigh, wrote with a diamond ring on a window paine. "Fain I would climb but I fear to fall."
Elizabeth I wrote back "If thy heart fail thee climb not at all."

Will my heart fail me.
I don't know.

Monday, February 15, 2016

Microblog Mondays--Stop it!

A Supreme Court Justice has died.

It now is the responsibility of President Obama to find another and nominate him or her.

It is now the responsibility of the Senate to confirm or not the nominee.  If they don't do their jobs they should be voted out.

I try not to call people out on their Facebook feed and blogs but anything I see that says that President Obama should wait--I will call you out. This is his job.  You want to "wait until the people have spoken?" They did. In 2012.

I will call you out.  I will not be silent because it is too important for partisan stupidity.  I respect your right to your opinions, but you are lying through your teeth if you say that you would say the same thing if a Republican was president in his last term and a liberal Justice passed away.

So just stop it.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

The last show

I like the new Facebook feature.  The one where you can click on something and then you can see all of your posts on this day for the past year.

I've been enjoying it.

For the most part.

Today though, three years ago today, D and I saw Fiorello with my parents.
Bad memory? No. Not at all. We had a wonderful time at the show. Went to dinner at La Bonne Soupe, discussed politics and had a wonderful time.

I just didn't know it would be the last one. I didn't know that wonderful time wouldn't happen again. The next day is one of the best of our lives--we got our referral.  Then we got Lotus. And then we lost mom. Dad hasn't been back to Broadway since--though we are hoping to change that.

I just thought there would be more shows. My sister did too. She was invited and she didn't want to go--she missed the last one. Her thoughts of this--I don't know. I know she has so many regrets.  A difference between she and I is that I have no regrets when it comes to mom--sometimes that helps.

Sometimes no.

But I wish we had had more.

Monday, February 1, 2016

Microblog Mondays- Dear Aya

A co-worker is about to make the monumental trip to China to adopt a long awaited, longed-for child. Coincidentally, she is going to the SWI where Lotus was.  I have been writing and rewriting this letter for her to take.

Dear dear Aya.
That is the name that my daughter, (our child) called when she was scared in the first weeks she was with us. I hope it is all right that I call you that.

The little light you nurtured for a year is now looking squarely at her fourth birthday. She is bright, inquisitive, and affectionate.  She is a very wordy child---which means is that she tries to use her words and tries to process by speech what she is thinking and feeling.

A few days ago we were looking at her storybook (a book we put together with the pictures you gave us) and she saw a picture of you.  She stared at it for a while. and I asked her what she remembered.

"She smelled good." Our daughter said. "She was warm."

I knew she was loved.
I knew you loved her.

She is loved now--oh so very much. She lights our life with her smile. She makes us laugh with her belly laughs and her hugs are the best endings to long days.

I realize that I have not thanked you enough for giving her a safe place. I know you were firm, but you were affectionate. You paid attention to her--possibly at the expense of other children. I wonder if you were the one who nursed her from your body, and if you were I thank you for that.

I don't know your name--I only know you as her Aya--but I thank Gd for you every night.  I hope you have joy, comfort, and peace.  I'm sending pictures of our girl to you with this letter.  Please know that we will do everything for her, and someday we will bring her back to China to visit so you can see her.