Once there was a little fish named Meg.
She wasn’t actually that little. Actually, kind of round. But not too long, so still technically little.
What Meg wanted more than anything in the world was to have little fish fry. Not fried fish, mind you, because that would be weird, considering that she was a fish.
(In fact, just tonight Meg learned the name for baby fish, and it sounds about as suitable as calling baby pigs, “Bacon”.)
A couple years ago, Meg learned that she could not have fry of her own. This was tough, but she kept swimming and breathing as best she could through her gills and looking on the bright side. Which was up, since the sun reflects on the water.
And she knew she would be okay, eventually.
What she also knew is that she’d take someone else’s fry to be her fry.
Kind of like she used to at McDonald’s when she got the small size and wanted more and someone wasn’t looking.
But that isn’t really how adoption works.
That’s more kidnapping, and for that they put you in the Fish Gulag. Otherwise known as Petco.
Wait, where is this going?
Tonight, I watched Juno. Which everyone has been telling me to see, because a) apparently I am Juno-esque, save for my inability to bake buns in my home oven; and b) I would write a movie like this, left to my own devices. Apparently.
And it made me cry, of course, because it’s not just about Juno, but about Vanessa, who wanted to be a mom so badly… and then she was.
As I will be, one day.
Probably not by myself, because hello, I am too lazy for such things. Really. I’d get even less sleep and then walk fatally into a wall or something.
But I want it more than anything. And I believe I will be good at it. I don’t need to bake my own bun to love the warm bun-ness of it all.
Which is where the tears come from. Not out of sadness, but just knowing something good is coming and so why not blubber about it?
Because that’s what I do.
Or, you know… I can always just get some fries.
This made me tear up a little… I was told I could never, not ever have my own small fry and by some miracle I do — just one — and I am so happy to have him in my life. (I would have been happy to adopt if he hadn’t come into my life.)
I hope that you too will know this adventure called parenting. It’s really not like anything else and half the time I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do. But we still keep showing up, every day. And it’s good… I am so tired this probably doesn’t even make sense.
Goodnight, and thank you for sharing your story.
Oh little fish named Meg, it’s good for you to cry this way. You see, it is those little fish tears that keep that jar of yours well above half full.
Just keep swimming, just keep swimming…
“I am so tired this probably doesn’t even make sense.” That is the tagline for parenting.
Meg, you’ll be an absolutely amazing mom someday. :)
I think I saw it on the same night and thought the same thing: that you’ll be an amazing Mom.
That movie was totally about Vanessa to me too. So many comments that Juno made to her that ran straight to the heart. I cried like a baby.
Don’t know if I’ve told you this before, but:
–Both of my wife’s sibs are adopted.
–Five of my first cousins are adopted.
–My wife used to be an adoption case worker.
Adoption is awesome. Adoption puts fabulous kids with fabulous parents. And *sometimes* it puts them with parents who are beyond fabulous — like you.
You’re the kind of mommy adoptees hope to get (I got a great mom, thank you G-ds)!
P.S. Juno touched me for different reasons. One, I got pregnant out of wedlock at age 38 (though I kept my baby), and two, I’m adopted so I TOTALLY felt a zillion emotions for the baby, not just the mommy who wanted her or the mommy who didn’t.
Sigh.
And not to be poopy on Tim’s comment above, but sometimes adoption is NOT awesome (for the adoptee). Please be sure to do your homework, and if you can, please for your kids sake, have an OPEN ADOPTION. Or at the very least, be sure to get all of their records & birth parent information before the state seals their records. It will matter later, trust me on this one.
Hugs ladybug!
Cheryl ~
Hey Meg… I didn’t know about all this and wish I’d known earlier what a tough time you were going through. I know you’ll work it out in the end… :)
You are one amazing fish. You remind of the phrase that Rebecca Woolf (Girls Gone Child) has on her arm: Tell the story until it comes true. Your stories have a magical way of doing just that.
You are beautiful!