Your Voices

I have been quiet on my own blog. Work and school assignments have especially kept me from writing, here. I still am reading the adoption blogs. Daily, I hear your voices.

Thank you for your voices. Thank you for your cries in the desert.
I am out here in the desert,too. Wandering on some days. Working on some days. And on others, I am able to add my single voice to yours when I gather the strength to write about my own truth of adoption loss. I don't yet have the endurance to use and sustain my voice for long.

I am able to sometimes put my words in writing. While in public,I sputter, stammer
and cannot speak. I think that by reading your words over and over, I might begin to
be able to speak up in public with clarity and calm. I still choke back emotions and tears when I speak in front of people about adoption loss. I'm afraid that people will write me off as one of the "few who happened to have a bad experience with adoption." Out of that fear,I do not speak.

Please know that I am listening to you. Thank you for your words. I let them pour into me as I read. I hope that this saturation of all your words will help me to aquire new oral adoption language. In language learning theory, aquisition of a new language happens partially through this kind of input. I need new language when it comes to speaking about adoption.

Thank you for risking your voices and exposing yourselves to ridicule, chastisement, and the board(er) wars. Thank you for exposing yourselves to dismissal, minimization and apathy.

Maybe, I will wander away from these desert dunes and stake us out a wonderful beach site near the ocean.

I could set up a big red and white striped party tent for us all. I would hang 1000 white paper lanterns from the ceiling so we ccould stay all night.

We could swim, dance, make music, BBQ and eat lots of dessert. After, when we're filled with food and filled with stories and tired from laughing, we could all have rest. A little rest for body, soul and voice is good once in a while, I think.