Donnerstag, 16. Juli 2015

owning stories

Ivo and I subscribe to the rule that once we've heard a story 3 times, it belongs to us; a wonderful gift from our marital role models, Kendra and Zak. As in, I can tell an Ivo story in the first person if he's told it to me 3 times already. Typically, I will patiently listen to the 3rd telling in it's entirety and then ask him "Did I ever tell you about the time I...?" and then quote his story right back to him.
But I love hearing his stories. And would gladly hear them over and over.
One thing that many of my friends and loved ones have had to endure me talking too much about is how long Ivo and I have been trying to become parents.
But low and behold, I got an email from Ivo's goddaughter asking about our attempts to adopt in 2010. Apparently she can not yet say that she had to go through 2 state approvals to get in a waiting pool for an open adoption. She can't say that she got a call in Tucamcari, while traveling rt 66, asking if she'd be willing to adopt a child who'd been born the day before with a risk of epilepsy. She won't yet get to say that she said yes in Las Vegas, NM and got the call saying that the parents had chosen to raise the child on their own in Albequerque at a ceremonial dance show. She won't say that she waited to be able to adopt in Switzerland but found herself pregnant a month before she'd be allowed to. She may some day. But so far, either it was her first time hearing it, or she just needed it in writing for her Maturaarbeit (graduation thesis) on adoption.
Las Vegas, NM

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