Tuesday, October 25, 2011
It was my own fault... After all I was the one wanting a nice relaxing massage and I probably should have known better. I likely should have asked questions such as "do you plan on making inappropriate comments during this massage?" I definitely should have known better than to disclose the fact we are adopting. After all that is usually just an invitation to pry into my personal life and make rude comments about adoption, money, and "screwed up kids". The next time someone asks me if I have children I'm going to respond that I eat children for breakfast. Just to be different. Just to impart a little shock into their lives so that as their jaw drops open I can enjoy a few moments of glorious silence.
It's been a long few weeks. Are you wondering what is going on with our adoption? Well, so am I. I know nothing other than there is a problem. When our agency went bankrupt I was terrified. I felt helpless and heartbroken and exactly like I feel now. Except now, I have a photo of my little man. I have a photo of a beautiful baby that is so embedded on my heart. I know who my baby is and now I'm just hoping I can bring him home.
I haven't slept in weeks and as my stress was starting to get out of control I thought a massage would be nice. I was wrong. Very very wrong. Upon arriving and answering questions about my back I told the RMT that I had been seeing a chiropractor for the last 4 months that had helped immensely. She responded that chiropractors were quacks. Not all chiropractors mind you just everyone that wasn't hers. The thing is my chiropractor has helped me. Seeing as this is my body I should be able to ascertain if I'm feeling better. The next 20 minutes was a sales pitch and I stopped mentioning my chiropractor all together feeling slightly berated by her forceful opinion. Next up was the children question. I don't know why I answered. I guess I wanted to stop talking about her Chiro so it seemed like a break. This of course was a mistake. I just wanted to relax. I wanted to be pampered. I didn't want "it's expensive isn't it?" and "do you actually pay for the child?" "Are you worried he has Aids?" "Are you infertile?" The real kicker was "I bet even at 8 months old he's experiencing horrible things." Basically everything someone could say to me to make me want to scream or cry. Eventually she went back to the pitch about her chiropractor and things relaxed a little.
I left an hour later in tears. I may never leave my house again. Ok. Maybe that's an exaggeration. While it was upsetting, I really should know better. After all, people who adopt are open to the same scrutiny by the general public one would expect during an FBI interrogation right? I hear walking across coals is relaxing... Next time I'll try that.
Posted by La Belle Vie at 2:48 PM