Chookooloonks

visual equivalent of muzak

Sunday lunch with friends, taken November 6, 2005

So, I have something I want to tell you, but:

a) I'm fighting a cold that I originally gave to Marcus, who took it, turned into something feverishly ugly and decided to give it back;

b) said cold has made my head thick, making novel-writing difficult, and communication damned near impossible; and

c) the time for telling is not yet nigh. Not that I would know "nigh" if it got in bed with me, but I'm pretty sure this time isn't it.

So, instead, I leave you with the above photograph. I call it Self-Portrait With Charlie's Necklace. I think the reason is obvious.

Speak soon.

_________________________

UPDATE: Because I'm being bombarded with e-mail, let me just say this now: I'M NOT PREGNANT. Sorry to disappoint, but the truth is, we're pretty content with our little threesome for now. Perhaps for ever. But definitely for now.

Gosh, now my news is going to be such a letdown. Yet still, I cannot tell you, for the time remains "not nigh." But nigh approaches. I see it in the distance.

_________________________

COMPLETELY UNRELATED UPDATE: A faithful Chookooloonks reader just e-mailed me to let me know that her online store featuring adoption-related goodies has just gone live. For those of you who have adopted, are adopting, or work in an adoption-related field, take a gander. You might see something you like.

As you were.

Adoption: An American Revolution

Family self-portrait, September 19, 2005

I interrupt Chookooloonks for the following:

While checking out some of my favourite blogs, I ran across Adoption: An American Revolution. In their words:

Adoption: An American Revolution is a major multimedia project that will explore how transformations taking place in adoption today are having far-reaching effects on all our public and private lives.

The centerpiece of the project will be a two-hour documentary special for national public broadcasting. The documentary will feature a rich tapestry of original stories, illuminating the joys, the challenges and the impact of adoption.

The television broadcast will be linked to an ambitious adoption education effort, with innovative adoption-related materials for public libraries and schools, a new Web site with adoption resources, and more.

It looks pretty interesting, and it seems it's being produced by some impressive folks, including an Emmy-award-winning filmmaker. As this is being done for PBS, they're currently soliciting public funding. For those of you who have adopted, there's even a forum for uploading your own adoption stories and photographs of your family.

Since I'm always intrigued by anything that portrays adoption positively (as this appears to do, although I'd be interested in knowing if anyone has heard anything to the contrary), I thought I'd let you know about it.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled Chookooloonks.

Answers, and a Break

Okay, so I lied: I said that I was going to wait until next week to answer your questions, and instead I'm answering them now, for reasons I'll get into later in this post. So without further ado:

First, the lovely Mir asked if I was planning on keeping Alex's hair in a sort of "Mommy-and-me" short crop, such that when we walked down the street, people would gasp in admiration in our duality; or if I intended to let her hair grow. The truth is, the only reason my hair is this short is because it is a bona fide nightmare as it grows -- it breaks, it becomes dull, and it drives me up a tree. Luckily, Alex has been blessed with a wonderfully healthy head of hair, and I plan on letting it grow to its full Rapunzel-esque potential, until she cries out in an exasperated "Mo-o-o-m!!" with the angst only a teenager can endure, and rebels by shaving her head and tattooing her left cheekbone. But perhaps I'm a bit paranoid on that count.

Next, the delightful MamaChristy asked if we were planning any futher tropical vacations -- it's funny, but Marcus and I were just today thinking that maybe we should consider a long weekend on Margarita Island, just off the coast of Venezuela. We hear it's as easy to get to and almost as cheap for us to go there as it is to go to Tobago...which sounds great; however, we need to do more research to confirm this. At this point, we're just talkin'. In any event, to date, we don't have any more tropical vacations planned.

Julie had an adoption question: she asked about my opinion related to an American-adoption-agency focus on trying to place African-American babies with same-race parents, and whether she was missing anything when considering a transracial adoption:

To echo Red's comment in the previous post, while I think that historically American private adoption agencies tried to place children with same-race parents, my experience indicates that the focus is less so. Most agencies are intent on matching children and birthmothers with loving adoptive parents under the best circumstances possible, and more often than not, in defining "best circumstances," race is not necessarily at the top of the list. This was definitely true with our agency. As far as what you might be missing: in my humble opinion, not a damned thing. Take my advice on this with a grain of salt, however; while technically, I suppose we are a transracial adoption, the truth is we're each of different racial backgrounds (Marcus is Irish/English, I'm African/Chinese/Indian, and Alex is Colombian/Mexican). Your situation (since both you and your husband share the same racial background) may be different. You might want to check out the Adoption Forums; in particular, the bulletin board related to transracial adoptions. I suspect that there are people on that site who would have a much more insightful response to your question. Also, I know some of the Chookooloonks readers have adopted transracially, and I invite them to post their views on transracial adoption here in the comments section. In any event, Julie, I wish you the best of luck, whatever you decide to do -- you're going to love being a parent!

Next, Toni commented that I rarely talk about religion on Chookooloonks, and asked about our religious faith (she also advised me not to pull any punches). I was raised Catholic, but seeing as I was divorced when I married Marcus, the Catholic church probably isn't in a big hurry to use me as an example of The Ultimate Catholic. Marcus was raised Church of England (or Anglican or Episcopalian, depending on your viewpoint), but at this point has more of a "May the Force be with you" sort of approach to his faith, since he has an innate distrust of organized religion. When Alex was born, we decided to baptize her in the Episcopal church, for very personal reasons.

We're horrible churchgoers, and actually have not gone to church since we moved to Trinidad. I do, however, make Alex say her prayers every evening ("AAAAAAAAAAAAA-MEN!!!!"), and hope to raise her to believe in God.

As far as why I haven't talked about our faith here on Chookooloonks, it's because to me, faith is an extremely private issue, similar to discussing how much someone makes, or what their last visit to the doctor was about -- and I say this, Toni, with lots of respect to you -- if I didn't want to answer the question, I wouldn't have answered it; I'm glad you asked the question. However, I just wanted to explain why you probably won't see much more of our faith on this site, even if we do become regular churchgoers.

Finally, the vivacious Lisa C. asked me to share memorable stories of my childhood. She also asked if stiltwalking (as seen on Sesame Street) was still commonly practiced here in Trinidad, and if Alex has "triple-citizenship," based on our citizenship.

As far as favourite childhood memories, it's hard to pick just one. I will say that they probably all have to do with the beach, as I grew up in a small fishing village on the southeast corner of Trinidad (a place called Mayaro), and we were constantly on the beach -- the beach was even our most direct route to walk to school! As for "stiltwalking," yes, it's still very common around Carnivaltime, but mostly practiced by adults, and rarely by children, even though the Sesame Street segment makes it sound like we all grew up walking on stilts (I assure you, I've never walked on stilts in my life). The stiltwalkers are called Moko Jumbies, and every Carnival you can see them dancing through the streets. They're a wonderful sight.

As for Alex's citizenship, she's currently a U.S. citizen, but is eligible for citizenship both in England and in Trinidad. We just haven't gotten around to applying for it yet. She's a pretty lucky kid!

___________________________

So, I think that answers all of the questions thus far. As for why I'm answering them now: I think it's time for me to take a break from Chookooloonks. I've been regularly updating here for about 19 months now, and to be honest, after events during the last 36 hours, I'm feeling a bit beat up. So I'm going to take a bit of a hiatus. In the meantime, here's a picture of Marcus and Girlie, taken today while chilling at an oceanfront bar/restaurant, and my favourite photo of our recent Rainy-Day Self-Portraits.

You guys take good care.

Three Things About Which I Cannot Stop Musing Over The Weekend Thus Far

1. Let’s get the touchy one over with first: remember the Top Ten Annoying Things People Say To Adoptive Parents That, Even Though They Mean Well, Drive Adoptive Parents Up A Tree? Well, an eleventh one, one that actually should’ve made the list but was inadvertently omitted, reared its ugly head a couple of times early last week. Permit me to address it here:

In the United States (and certainly in our situation), birthmothers do not “become rich off of adoption fees.” The considerable fee paid by adoptive parents is applied to adoption agency costs, payments for the services of adoption lawyers, court fees, and other costs associated with the facilitation of the adoption process. Birthmothers do not receive a dime of the money, as the buying and selling of children is highly illegal. Furthermore, the inherent implication that my child is a commodity, is, to put it mildly, hurtful.

2. Secondly, on a completely unrelated (and much happier) note, last night Marcus and I went to hang out (or “lime,” as we say in Trinidad) over at the home of some friends. It was the first time in the six months we’ve been in Trinidad that we limed with friends without Girlie-girl. Can I tell you how excited I was about this? I mean, while Marcus and I are pretty good about scheduling frequent “date nights,” this was the first night I had been out and socialized with a group of other adults in a VERY. LONG. TIME. I went out and bought a new skirt and shoes for the occasion, I was that excited. We talked politics! And travel! And current events! And not once did I have to change a dirty diaper, or respond to “Mummy!!! Mummy!!!! MUMMY!!!” during the entire evening!

Well, anyway, I thought it was a big deal.

3. And finally, today my cousin Jason came over with his beautiful wife and baby. I’m the oldest of the cousins on my mother’s side of my family, while Jason is the youngest, by 8 years. Notwithstanding our age difference, at one time Jason and I were quite close, having practically lived together for 2 years of our childhood with our grandparents. Today was the first time we’d seen each other since we had each married and become parents, so we pretty much spent the entire afternoon staring at each other and laughing to ourselves. I mean, okay, even I admit the concept of me as a mom is pretty damned funny, but little Jason as a dad? Come ON!

And incidentally, Jason’s 6-month-old son, Jamal, sets new standards of choonkocity, even given the little rug burn on his nose:

Even Alex couldn’t get enough (much to Jamal’s considerable consternation).

“She’s the spitting image of you!”; and We’re Off

When I published this post, I received the following comment from “b”:

You two look so much alike in that picture. I don't know if that's something that adoptive parents are happy/indifferent to hearing (would be interested in your opinion) but it is so apparent in that picture my jaw dropped.

Well, thanks, b – I think she looks like me, as well. In fact, Alex and I get that a lot. Some people (like yourself) already know Alex is adopted, and they remark on our resemblance with more than a small amount of incredulity in their voices. Others have no idea about the way Alex became part of our family, and are simply commenting on a resemblance that they happen to notice.

As a mom, I have to say I’m usually quite flattered by the remark, mostly because I think Alex is really pretty – but then, being her mom, Alex could look like Bobo the Monkey Child, and I’d probably still think she was a pretty stunning little imp. But there’s also a part of me that is pleased with the comment because, frankly, when Marcus and I started out on our adoption journey, we wanted to adopt a kid who looked like us.* Marcus and I clearly didn’t care about a particular race so much (let’s face it, between the two of us, we represent English, Irish, African, Chinese and Indian – and those are just the races that we know about), but we were specifically interested in adopting a child who was multiracial**, because for us, it was important for our daughter to be able to manage her own communication about her adoption herself – that is, when she’s older and she brings her friends home to meet us, we didn’t want her adoption to be apparent on its face – her adoption can be something she could reveal (or not reveal) to whomever she chooses. Her call. ***

Again, this was the decision that was right for Marcus and me – it should by no means be interpreted that we have any issues with any other types of transracial or international adoption. I will say, however, that families who look like us don’t have a monopoly to the “she-looks-just-like-you” comments: one my white friends (whose wife is also white) is constantly told how much his Hispanic son looks just like him. Similarly, even the lovely men of Daddy, Papa & Me have been told how much their African-American daughter resembles them. As I recall, when one of them bewilderedly told a commenter that their daughter was adopted, the commenter responded:

“Regardless, she looks like you. I guess love does that.”

I guess it does, indeed.

In summary (and taking a risk and speaking for adoptive families everywhere), I suspect we all love to hear that our children resemble us, no matter what our or our children’s racial background may be – because, you see, it allows us to believe that there is a visible manifestation of the bonds we have with our kids. And if I’m honest, I’ll even admit to feeling a bit of a thrill at the astonishment in the voices of those commenters who know Alex is adopted – it’s as if it’s just dawned on them that perhaps DNA isn’t truly what makes a family a family.

It’s not in our family, anyway.

With that, I’m off to finish packing for our holiday; we leave tomorrow. Posting over the next two weeks will be sporadic, at best: while I should have a dial-up connection wherever we are in England, I suspect that our focus will be on reuniting with family and friends, and I shan’t have a lot of time on the computer. That said, while we’re gone, if any of you (lurkers included!) have any questions you’ve been burning to ask me, feel free to ask – I’m happy to answer them when we return.

Speak soon!
______________________

*Now, before anyone gets bent out of shape, understand that I’m absolutely, unequivocally, 100% pro-adoption no matter the form: international, domestic, transracial, older child, sibling group, special needs, by a lesbian/gay couple, by a step-parent, by a family member, by a friend – it’s all beautiful to me. Remember, people: “love and light, love and light.”

**Alex is 1/2-Mexican-American, 1/2-Black Colombian.

***I know there are some of you who will claim that we should make a point to raise Alex to be proud of her adoption, such that she will want to shout it from the rooftops. Clearly, her adoption is something we’re proud of, and our every intent is to convey that pride to her. However, as many adoptive parents will tell you, “adoptism,” (a word my friend Brat introduced to me), exists – the belief that becoming a family via adoption is somehow inferior to doing so via childbirth. I can conceive of occasions where Alex would rather not deal with adoptism (from schoolteachers or whomever), and would instead choose to be silent on the issue. Besides, while her adoption is important, it shouldn’t be the main thing that defines her – or our family, for that matter.

The Heart Gallery Project

Today on my way to the gym (where, unbeknownst to me, my sensibilities would be assailed by unexpected country & western music), I picked up a copy of American Photo magazine, one of my favourite photography periodicals, to peruse while on the treadmill. The first article that I read concerned The Heart Gallery Project, where over 150 of the world's top photographers donated their time to photograph waiting children, in the hope that their efforts would help find homes for these kids. These photographs are currently on exhibit at the Library Science Center in Jersey City, New Jersey.

These are some beautiful children. Check out the exhibit for yourself, either in person or on the online gallery. And if you're considering building your family, consider adoption. It's a beautiful thing.

The "Tiny Exodus"

This morning, on my way to the gym, I picked up the June 6th issue of People magazine to read while I was on the treadmill. While the Katie Holmes/Tom Cruise romance was enough of a draw for me to pick the mag up (I’m kidding – I generally don’t read People, but it was all that was available), the following article immediately caught my attention:

Why are American Babies Being ADOPTED ABROAD?

A little-known trend – European and Canadian families adopting black infants from the U.S. – stirs an emotional debate

The article goes on to answer the question as follows:

The answers lie partly in this country’s tortured racial politics. Among many blacks and whites, a powerful stigma against interracial adoption remains. And while more African-American children are getting adopted, they remain difficult to place. “The adoption hierarchy reflects our society,” says Margaret Fleming, the director of Adoption-Link, which has sent 74 black and biracial kids abroad. “At the top are blonde, blue-eyed girls. At the bottom are black boys.” At adoption conferences, Fleming says, “white families look at our babies, smile, then make a beeline for the agency that places Russian, Chinese or Guatemalan children.” In contrast, would-be parents from Canada and Europe – where racial baggage is different and adoption can be more difficult than in the United States – are often eager to parent black children.

Having been through it, I am only too aware of the racial politics that exist in the U.S domestic adoption business. At our agency (like every other domestic adoption agency we researched), the adoption fees varied depending on the race of the child you were willing to adopt. As I recall, the fees for adopting a non-black child were X, and a black child was less than half of X. If you wanted to adopt a biracial child (“biracial,” in this case, meaning “half-black”), the fees were somewhere in between.

At first glance, the fee schedule seems glaringly unfair; however, while I’m not a fan of it, I understand the reasoning behind it. It’s supply and demand, and it’s what the market will bear. And the article is right: a powerful stigma does exist against interracial adoptions in America. Just recently, I was reading the blog of a white man, married to an Asian woman, who was at the beginning of the adoption process. He stated that when interviewed by the adoption agency as to the race they would be willing to adopt, he stated they would like a biracial Asian/white child as a first choice; however, in part because they “only owned a few hip-hop CDs and a couple of books by prominent African-American authors,” he was afraid to adopt a black child, because he wouldn’t be able to appropriately expose the child to African-American culture. As far as I was concerned, his argument lost credibility when he claimed that they were open to transracial adoption, and in fact, they were open to adopting a Hispanic child, and would look to find support in the community in which they lived. What, there wouldn’t be any similar support if they chose to adopt an African-American child? Pardon my skepticism, but I suspect in the large city in California where they lived, they could probably find plenty of resources to assist them if they actually took the time to look for them. Call me a cynic, but I think their reasons for not being open to adopting a black child ran deeper than that.

In a more glaring example of this racial stigma, a white friend of mine who has adopted black children once told me she read on an adoption board about a woman who ostensibly would consider adopting a black child, but “was afraid of what their hair would feel like on her skin.” It is a testament to my friend’s unlimited patience when she kindly and caringly responded to this woman, saying she suspected the woman would end up loving her child unconditionally no matter what the child’s race; had it been me, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have responded, for fear of blasting the poster with a burning rage the likes of which she’d still be recovering from.

I mention all this to say that my reaction to the article was actually one of relief. If African-American children aren’t being adopted in the U.S., and thus risk growing up in the foster care system, I’m pleased to hear that some of these children are finding loving homes in other countries. While I agree it is unfortunate that many of these children must find families outside of their home country of the United States, I think it’s an indication of a deeper problem, and not actually the problem, in and of itself.

So, that’s my two cents. What do you think? (And when responding, remember: Chookooloonks is a place of love and light – if you differ in opinion, please try to present your side thoughtfully and constructively, without making it personal to me or any other commenter. Thanks.)

Readers' Questions

Thanks so much to all of you who commented in my previous post -- it made for amazingly interesting reading. To those of you who are adoptive parents and/or adoptees, I found your insights particularly helpful, and I will store each and every one of them in my mental Fil-O-Fax for future reference. To those of you who are prospective adoptive parents, I offer you my best wishes, congratulate you for thinking about adoption, and hope for the best for you on your journey. Something to keep in mind (and I think I speak for most adoptive parents out there): whatever your preconceptions about adoption and the adoptive relationship, chances are you haven't even begun to grasp the complexities involved. Adoption is a wondrous thing, and the best way to enjoy it is to keep yourself open to all the lessons it has to teach.

Hmm. Much like parenthood in any form, I suppose. So I guess my advice above is applicable to prospective parents of all types. In any event, you're going to love being a parent. I promise.

So anyway, in my last post, a couple of readers raised a couple of questions. So as we wait for something interesting to happen in the Chookooloonks household, I thought I'd take this opportunity to answer them.

For example, the lovely Victoria (hi, Victoria!) writes:

Have you written elsewhere about why you chose to adopt? I would be really interested in reading that.

Why, actually yes, Victoria, I have, although it was in a very cursory way. With a little more detail, the story goes like this:

When I was about 5 or 6 years old, my mom's sister, Auntie Penny, and her husband had their first child, my cousin Nikki. I remember speaking with my mom about it, since my sister had recently been born, and I didn't remember Auntie Penny getting anywhere near as huge as my mom got. My mom explained to me about adoption, and I remember, even as young as I was, I thought that was the coolest thing I'd ever heard. And I decided back then that even if I had biological children, I would adopt.

Flash-forward 30 years: I was living in London, single and loving it. I had no intention of getting married, since I'd already been married once before. Ooh, wait ... did you guys know that? So yeah, I was married. For six years. And then I wasn't. I was too young, he was too young, blah blah blah. Anyway, seven years later, I really didn't really see the point of doing it again. And while I loved children, I'd never felt the need to be a parent, so I was good there, too.

Then, I met Marcus.

Eighteen days after our first date, Marcus asked me to marry him. But before he did, sometime during those eighteen days, we talked about children. He, too, said that he didn't need to have children -- while he loved them, it wasn't a priority in his life. I told him I agreed: but, if we ever changed our minds, that I would like to consider adoption.

"Adoption? Really?" he said.

"Yes," I said, looking at him dead in the eye.

"Oh. I've never really thought about that. But yeah, that's cool. Why not?"

So 8 months later, we were married and had moved to Houston. A year after that, we returned to England for Marcus' brother's wedding. And one day, while we were there, Marcus' father suggested we rent some boats to spend the day on the estuary leading to the ocean. So we did: Marcus' dad, his wife and young son, William, Marcus and I, Marcus' sister Kate and her family, and his brother Nathan and his new bride.

And at one point, I was watching Marcus' dad, and the expression on his face was so touching. He was thrilled to have all his children around him, with their families, spending the beautiful English summer day on the water. And I realized that I wanted to see the same expression on Marcus' face one day.

So Marcus and I talked. And when we returned to Houston, we called an adoption agency. And the rest, as they say, is history. Or Chookooloonks.

Second question: the equally lovely Cheryl asks:

This has nothing to do with anything, but I've been wondering about the necklace Alex is always wearing? You don't have to answer, I was just wondering if it had any special meaning.

So observant, Cheryl! Alex is wearing this sterling silver cross, from James Avery Craftsman, a famous silversmith in Texas. It was given to her by my best guy-friend, Mark. (Mark and I are so close, he's actually seen the bones of my skull. Seriously. Not only that, he held my hand while he watched the doctor sew the gaping hole in my head up. It is a long, unbelievable story for another time.) When Alex was born, I asked Mark to be her godfather. And at her christening, he gave her this cross. With very few exceptions, she's worn it every day since.

Well, folks, that's all we have time for today. I think that answers all outstanding questions (I've hopefully answered all others via e-mail), but let me know if I've forgotten any. In the meantime, have a good weekend!

Tightrope

One of the things that we adoptive parents struggle with, especially those of us who have children who actually look like us, is how, when and why to reveal the fact that our children are adopted. It's a strange balancing act: on one hand, we don't want our children to grow up with the notion that their adoption is a Big Deal, something that makes them Different and somehow Unusual; on the other hand, we certainly don't want them to grow up think that their adoption is a big family secret, something Which Should Never Be Revealed. Similarly, I think a small, activist part of me wants to ensure that other people get that adoption isn't that big of a deal -- it's just another way that families come to be. Still, I find myself wrestling with how much to reveal, and in what situations, always mindful of how what I say might affect Alex, if not now, when she's older.

For example: this weekend, while we were in Grand Riviere, my friend Joy and I were speaking with a friend of hers, Max. Joy knew that Alex is adopted; Max didn't. At the time, we were talking about health, and weight loss, and getting fit, and I was lamenting how much weight I'd gained over the past few years, and how much I'd lost since arriving in Trinidad and joining a gym. Max, I'm sure in an effort to comfort me, said, "Well, Karen, of course, you should go easy on yourself. I mean, there's always weight gain with a new baby."

I smiled, and I could feel Joy looking at me, wondering if I was going to tell him. And I responded:

"Well, I'd love to blame the weight gain on Alex, but since she's adopted, I don't even have THAT excuse!" Max's hands flew to his face, laughing, but I suspect somewhat embarrassed; Joy fell into helpless giggles.

Our conversation continued merrily along in a good-health-and-fitness direction, but there was a part of me that wondered: was it appropriate that I revealed Alex's adoption to Max? If Alex were older, would she have preferred that I didn't say anything, and instead, allow her to be the owner of whether her adoption is revealed or not? Of course, I wouldn't have said anything if I thought it out of place; in fact, my reason for saying anything at all was because I feel her adoption shouldn't be held as a deep, dark secret -- if it comes up in natural conversation, then so be it. I guess, though, I worry about whether, in the future, it will be my place to make this sort of decision.

Similarly, when I was enrolling Alex in daycare, I had intended not to reveal the fact that Alex was adopted: as far as I was concerned, it really wasn't any of their business. But then, we came to the part of the enrollment form which asked if Alex had any allergies. I paused, and looked up at Tessa, the teacher:

"Oh. Allergies. Umm, no, I don't think she has any. But the thing is, Alex is adopted. So I can't really tell you if she might have an allergy we just haven't discovered yet, since we obviously can't look to our own medical histories to make an educated guess. So, I guess I'd prefer if you'd be careful with her around any known allergens, like nuts and so on, until we figure this out."

Clearly, I feel like I made the right decision in revealing her adoption -- medically speaking, I think it was important. But again: when Alex is older, is she going to want her teachers and possibly other students knowing she's adopted? Isn't this information she might like to manage on her own? Because, let's face it, people can sometimes say some pretty stupid things when they are confronted with adoption. I can certainly conceive of some instances where she might like to just avoid the topic entirely.

I guess what it all boils down to is that as Alex grows up, I want her to feel special, but not different. I want her to be proud of her adoption, but I don't want it to be an issue. Because, in the long run, the only thing that matters is that she realizes she is loved -- and loved by everyone who was involved in the entire adoption process.

Alex says, "ADOPT!!!!"

I just received an e-mail from Alternatives In Motion, the adoption agency that brought Alex and Marcus and me together. They are in desperate need of adoptive families, as over 20 babies are to be born to birthmothers they are assisting by September. If you're thinking about adopting, or know someone who is (particularly if you or your friend is located in the United States), and you're really interested in adopting a newborn, you might want to give Anne a call:

Anne Landry
Alternatives in Motion
281.821.6508
www.aimadoptions.org (you can e-mail them for more information on their website)

And of course, if you have any questions about our adoption experience, feel free to e-mail me by clicking the "Email me" link, in the section to the right.

Good luck!
______________________________

UPDATE: I just received an e-mail that stated the following:

I was excited when I read your notice because I immediately thought of ******, but then I went to their site and saw they only place with Christian families. Could you make note of that on your blog entry? It's kind of a big deal to potential adoptive parents who aren't.

This e-mailer makes a good point. I apologize for any confusion. And also, because I'm such a huge advocate of adoption, if anyone knows of any other agencies who find themselves in similar straits (i.e., in desperate need of adoptive families), I'm happy to make it known on Chookooloonks as well. As far as I'm concerned, the more people who adopt, no matter what their background, the better.