Unperfect

As we've mentioned a hundred times (or so) already, the support we've received in our outreach efforts has been inspiring.  I keep telling people, in conversations, that I am continually amazed by what the world has to give back when I open myself up to the world.  This support energizes our efforts and keeps our hope alive -- that we will be parents soon.

So, of course, not everyone in the world is awesome.  Part of the risk that we run when we put ourselves out here in this fashion is that -- we are not the kind of people who appeal to everyone.  I mean, who is?  If it were that simple, we'd all marry the first person we ever had a crush on. What you're getting here is a sliver piece of the pie of who we really are.  We're trying to fill in the areas that we think are important, but of course it's never going to be comprehensive because some things are just irrelevant and some things aren't going to make a difference either way.  That is:  either you like us, or you don't. 

I get that.
I mean, I won't pretend that I don't walk around just assuming that everyone likes me all the time.  But I do understand that that is not a realistic state of mind.  It's just easier to deal with the world when you just believe everyone likes you. 

What happens then, when someone doesn't like us, and feels the need to communicate that with us.  Someone we don't know.  We've never met.  Hidden behind an anonymous email address attached to an anonymous craigslist response.  Someone who, despite not knowing us and having never met us, feels in some way entitled to make assumptions about our lifestyle and insinuate that we are unable to raise a healthy child. 

Of COURSE these people are out there.  They've been out there since the dawn of the internet when the entire population of the world realized they could say whatever they wanted to say about anything in their pointy little heads and nobody could do anything about it because it's all faceless, nameless anonymity.  I am not new here.  This is not a surprise.  I mean, I read the note, briefly composed a scathing response in my head, and then clicked delete and walked away.  I know enough to know that it's not supposed to bother me, and yet there it is in the back of my brain nagging away at me as I make dinner. 

I am 34 years old, and bullies still exist.

And - if it's not good enough for my future children, it's not good enough for me.  It starts HERE, right?  With how we treat each other?  How the grown-ups talk to each other and about each other.  How we may sometimes look at a situation that we can't possibly know anything about, and still somehow feel superior and perhaps entitled to spout out a few hurtful, nasty little words in an attempt to make someone feel small. 

I am a grown up, so I know better than to be swallowed whole by this.  My go-to response is anger and outrage not depression and hopelessness.  I cannot imagine being a teenager dealing with the same sort of random cruelty and judgement.  Here are three things I know:

• Our glaring, blatant, unignorable imperfections will allow us to enthusiastically and without hesitation love the glaring, blatant, unignorable imperfections in our future children.
• We will forever take great care to teach acceptance, love, and humility as a way of life.
• We will raise our future children healthy -- of body, mind and spirit.