Here’s the part about social media that I think we forget. The word “social” and all it implies.
For example, you wouldn’t really barge into a group of people you didn’t know and start talking about your needs. Who the f cares? People help people they know. I was aghast and ashamed at the backlash I got from the pregnant teenagers when I went to meet them in their cyberspace. But I was even more touched and moved by the people that have come out of the woodwork to help me. A guy I didn’t know that well in high school. My cousins. My yoga teacher.
My social worker sent me a note yesterday. She told me to not get my hopes up, but there is a pregnant young woman at UCLA who is open to placing her child with a single white female. Will know more next week. In the meantime, I am obsessively working on my “calling card,” a letter-sized flyer that serves a snapshot of my life and who I am for women deciding who they’d consider to parent their child.
No matter what happens with this one, I have to just remember to plant all my seeds, and not expect them to bloom where I drop them. They will tunnel under, swirl around rocks and weeds, push through oceans and come up in the craziest, most beautiful garden ever.