Juggling and Struggling to Make It Through

Interesting article today in the NY Times entitled "Working Anything but 9 to 5" about a struggling single mother who works as a Starbucks barista. The story focused on how difficult it was for her because her work schedule was so sporadic. It bled into so many other areas of her life.

Starbucks single mother barista

The part of her story that talked about juggling to find someone to watch her small son resonated with me. Many times, you have to rely on the kindness of others in order to make it through.

When I moved to NYC with 2-year-old A to go to grad school, I did not have a concrete plan on who was going to watch her during my evening classes. I had arranged for her to go to a nearby preschool, but  my classes started just when the preschool ended. Luckily for me, on the first day of her school, A befriended another little girl right way. As we were witnessing the moment when our daughters became friends, this girl's father offered to pick up A for me two nights a week. That way, I could walk 2 blocks to their apartment once my classes ended at 7pm.

Another chance coincidence that first week of school was running into someone from my freshman dorm as we were walking down my street.The story goes that he was walking south to the metro stop, but felt lazy, so he turned around to walk north to catch the bus TO the metro stop. When he turned around, he noticed a cute kid before he looked up and realized he actually knew the mother! If he had not turned around, we would have not run into each other… and a whole year could have gone by without us realizing we were at the same grad school. Again, luckily for me, he generously offered to pick her up one night a week, which let me attend my third evening class.

These regular weekly pickups helped me in so many ways. It solved a big logistic problem that allowed me to finish school. It made me feel less alone.

I am forever grateful to those who helped me through the journey of being a single mother.

The Unspoken Question on Everyone's Mind...

The unspoken question on everyone's mind is… what happened to A's dad?

When I told him I was pregnant, he told me that it was my choice, but he wouldn't be around. And, he kept his promise!

He first saw her when she was two months old. He then saw her a few more times, but the last time he saw her was when she was two. People sometimes ask me if I'm mad at him. "Mad" really isn't the right word. It's more like bewilderment. How can he let ten years go by and not want to see her? How can he go about his daily life without knowing how she is doing?

When she was two, I filed for child support enforcement from the state of CA. Child support enforcement is separate from visitation rights, so paying child support doesn't guarantee visitation rights. When I opened the case, I had to submit monthly budget information with the court documents. A judge ruled that he owed me a certain amount of money (several hundred dollars per month). All this was done out of court, so I never had to go in. Even though he didn't pay, the amount continued to accrue over several years.  I continued to go on my merry way, trying to make ends meet.

Finally, two years later in Dec 2004, I received a small check in the mail from the child support enforcement office. I could hardly believe my eyes holding this check I never thought would materialize. Apparently, he had found a job that garnished his wages because of the child support enforcement case. He even called saying he was thinking about visiting and asked me to send him some pictures of A. Well, his good intentions didn't last long and neither did the checks. I think I got a total of three. Still, they were three little slips of hope.

Even though I only managed to get a few hundred dollars from him, I have to say – the Department of Child Support Enforcement must be doing something right because eventually,

1.   He was unable to renew his passport.

2.   He lost his driver’s license when he got pulled over for a traffic violation.

3.   And he got his car impounded. [I’m sure he felt pretty stupid then!]

Kudos to the Dept. of CSE for communicating with the other government agencies.

My case was eventually closed because they couldn’t track him down. I still have his phone number, but we rarely communicate. At the most, I talk to him once every other year.

However, the total amount of child support he still owes me is over $40,000. I am sitting on a cash cow that I will never see. If he does ever come through, it will be nice to use that money towards A’s college tuition. But I knew from the beginning, that I’d be doing this on my own, so I know that – in the end – I can only count on myself.

With this blog, I am hoping my story helps other women out there who find themselves unexpectedly expecting. When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted to hear other single mom’s stories and especially one from an Asian perspective. Because I couldn’t find one in 2000, I created this one. There is no easy choice and every story is different. But take heart!

“It’ll be ok in the end. If it’s not ok, it’s not the end.”

"Saying I Do After Being a Single Mom"

After grad school in NY in 2005,  I packed up my things and headed back to the west coast. Knowing that I didn't want to move around when A started kindergarten, I decided to settle down in Berkeley and then start looking for jobs nearby.

I stumbled upon a support group for single parents at Bananas, Inc., a local parenting resource center. It was there that I met Rachel Sarah, a fellow single mom. Her daughter was one year older than mine, and they had lived in NY too. Moreover, Rachel was a writer -- a real writer! -- and she had just finished publishing her book, Single Mom Seeking

My stint in Berkeley only lasted six months, since the job I found was in SF and there was no way I was going to cross the Bay Bridge every day on my commute. However, my friendship with Rachel has lasted way beyond the six months.

I was so honored to have her attend my wedding last fall. Here is the lovely write-up she posted on her blog about my special day!

http://singlemomseeking.com/blog/2012/10/saying-i-do-after-being-a-single-mom/

Watching History Being Made

The other day, I heard a song on the radio that made me want to pull over so I could really hear what he was saying.

SAME LOVE by Macklemore

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQngzapK5dM

When I was in the 3rd grade I thought that I was gay 'cause I could draw, My uncle was and I kept my room straight I told my mom, tears rushing down my face, she's like, "Ben you've loved girls since before pre-K" Trippin', yeah, I guess she had a point, didn't she? A bunch of stereotypes all in my head I remember doing the math like "Yeah, I'm good a little league" A pre-conceived idea of what it all meant For those who like the same sex had the characteristics The right-wing conservatives think its a decision And you can be cured with some treatment and religion Man-made, rewiring of a pre-disposition. Playing God Ahh nah, here we go America the brave Still fears what we don't know And God loves all his children it's somehow forgotten But we paraphrase a book written 3,500 hundred years ago I don't know And I can't change Even if I tried Even if I wanted to And I can't change Even if I tried Even if I wanted to My love, my love, my love She keeps me warm She keeps me warm She keeps me warm She keeps me warm If I was gay I would think hip-hop hates me Have you read the Youtube comments lately "Man that's gay" Gets dropped on the daily We've become so numb to what we're sayin' Our culture founded from oppression Yeah, we don't have acceptance for 'em Call each other faggots behind the keys of a message board A word routed in hate, yet our genre still ignores it Gay is synonymous with the lesser It's the same hate that's caused wars from religion Gender to skin color the complexion of your pigment The same fight that lead people to walk-outs and sit-ins, It's human rights for everybody There is no difference Live on! And be yourself! When I was in church, they taught me something else If you preach hate at the service Those words aren't anointed And that Holy Water, that you soak in is then poisoned When everyone else Is more comfortable remaining voiceless Rather than fighting for humans, that have had their rights stolen I might not be the same But that's not important No freedom 'til we're equal Damn right I support it I don't know And I can't change Even if I tried Even if I wanted to My love, my love, my love She keeps me warm She keeps me warm She keeps me warm She keeps me warm We press play Don't press pause Progress, march on! With a veil over our eyes We turn our back on the cause 'Till the day That my uncles can be united by law Their kids are walkin' around the hallway Plagued by pain in their heart A world so hateful, some would rather die than be who they are And a certificate on paper Isn't gonna solve it all, but it's a damn good place to start No law's gonna change us We have to change us. Whatever God you believe in We come from the same one Strip away the fear Underneath it's all the same love About time that we raised up And I can't change Even if I tried Even if I wanted to And I can't change Even if I tried Even if I wanted to My love, my love, my love She keeps me warm She keeps me warm She keeps me warm She keeps me warm Love is patient, love is kind Love is patient Love is kind (Not crying on Sundays) Love is patient,(Not crying on Sundays) love is kind (I'm not crying on Sundays) Love is patient,(Not crying on Sundays) love is kind(I'm not crying on Sundays) Love is patient,(Not crying on Sundays) love is kind(I'm not crying on Sundays) Love is patient, love is kind

Macklemore really struck a nerve. Growing up in church, I remember listening to sermons on why being gay is wrong. My church started a petition against Disney because they granted insurance benefits to same-sex partners. I even felt a little guilty watching "The Lion King" movie.

But as I grew older, I had a hard time reconciling my faith and the idea that gay people were "wrong." And as I made gay friends in college and work, their struggle for acceptance became more real to me.

I still don't understand why the gay issue is such a sore spot with the Christian church. If the church were to rank sins, being gay is pretty high up there. Even I, as a single mom, was somehow not as "bad" as being gay -- according to the church. Christians are willing to look past lying, gambling, cheating, & drunkenness (which are all mentioned in the Bible too). It's the one sin Christians are unwilling to forgive. Which is ironic -- given that it's not up to us to judge other people.

Today, on Facebook, my gay and lesbian friends (and their allies) are celebrating the defeat of DOMA and Prop 8 by the Supreme Court. My Christian friends are noticeably quiet.

We are watching history being made, and in another generation, they will wonder why the right to marry (regardless of race, gender, etc) wasn't available to everyone.

Going to Movies Alone

Tonight I went to a late night screening of Before Midnight. I never went to movies alone -- until I had A.

When she was younger, she went to lots of birthday parties. And when she got to the age where I could just drop her off at the parties (instead of staying with her), I found that I had some free time. The main thing I would do is watch movies that I couldn't normally watch with her.

From the parent perspective, movies usually fall into three categories.

1. Movies that are too violent, too sexy, or too disturbing to bring kids to
2. Movies geared towards kids with talking animals or animated people
3. Movies that are ok to bring kids to, but they would be bored out of their minds. The poor kid has been dragged along to movies that no kid should be dragged to (A-hem: Young at Heart when she was six).

 Before Midnight falls into category 1, with its frank talk about sex and a certain topless scene. So I took advantage of having had a summer afternoon nap and the willingness of W to stay home with A to run out to my late-night movie.

 In my early 20s, I would never have gone to a movie alone. I would never have eaten out at a restaurant alone. I would have been too self-conscious about people perceiving me as lonely to do anything by myself.

 But tonight, I found it liberating to NOT have to worry if someone else was enjoying the movie as much as I was. I didn't have to share an armrest with anyone. And I finally got to try the powdered popcorn flavoring that A never lets me put on the popcorn we share. [Word to the wise: Don't put too much powder on. Otherwise, you end up inhaling it with every bite. I think I have Nacho Cheese and White Cheddar coating the insides of my lungs now.]

 When you become a parent, especially a single parent, time alone is precious. There is too little time to waste worrying about what others think. Claim that time for yourself instead.

I Was Raised by a Tiger Mom -- Confessions of a Former Whiz Kid

With all the publicity surrounding Amy Chua's book "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom" last year, it got me reflecting about my own up-bringing. I, too, was raised by a "tiger mom." I was pushed to perform in academics and piano. I was taught that only A's are acceptable. I could be anything I wanted to be -- as long as it was a doctor, lawyer, or engineer.

Unlike Tiger Mom, my mother lavished more praise on us. In fact, we were always THE BEST at everything. We were THE SMARTEST, MOST TALENTED, GIFTED kids on the block. We were all whiz kids. She even wrote a book "Raising Whiz Kids," so of course, it must be true.

Our living room wall was covered ceiling to floor in framed photos, newspaper clippings, and award certificates. Our piano could not contain all the trophies we kids had accumulated in science competitions, piano recitals, and essay contests.

Implicit in all this was the message was the idea that our self-worth was based on these extrinsic accomplishments. We were "good" children because we had accomplished so much. She loved to show us off. She loved to brag to anyone who would listen. She was that mom in "Joy Luck Club" who walked down the street holding up the newspaper article about her award-winning chess-playing daughter. The a-ha moment for me was when the little 8-year-old girl looks up at her mom and demands, "Why do you have to use me to show off? If you want to show off, then why don't you learn to play chess?"

It didn't go so well for the kid in the movie. It didn't go over so well for me either when we raised the same issue. She stormed off into the crowds of the Tucson mall, leaving us "ungrateful" kids behind in the food court.

Where is the line between being proud of your kids and using your kids to define your self-worth? What message do we send to our kids when we only expect perfection and excellence? Do we need to push our kids that hard in order for them to be SUCCESSFUL later in life?

10 years later...

Today, I went with A's girl scout troop to visit a house for expectant moms. This place, Maggie's Place, provides women with housing while they are pregnant until their baby is 6 months old. It's run by a Catholic agency.

I have to hand it to the Catholics -- they really meet the physical needs of women who unexpectedly are expecting. It's one thing to say, "Don't get an abortion." It's another thing to help the pregnant woman with housing, medical care, and support, so she doesn't have to get an abortion.

I could have easily benefitted from a place like this when I found out I was pregnant. I'm glad there are places like these for pregnant women.

"When I Look At Her"

When I look at A, I don't think of all the things I couldn't do because I had her. I think of all the things that I can do, as long as she is with me.

As long as she is with me, I will be okay.

The Promise

When I made the decision to have a baby on my own, I knew that it would probably mean moving back to my hometown of Phoenix. I had assumed, correctly, that having a baby would seriously limit my funds.

I left the golden state of CA for the deserts of Phoenix on a scorching hot day in July 2001, with my best friend in the passenger seat and my 2 month old baby girl in the back. I cried when I crossed the stateline.

I came back to a place where nothing had changed except the friendships I had forged during my teen years. My youth group friends, who I had spent so much time with in high school, were strangers to me. They didn't know how to react to me, an old friend with a new baby. I remember feeling completely alone.

My high school friends, however, did welcome me back. And because several others of them had also had young kids, we were able to bond over that. But they had never left Phoenix. I don't think they understood my perspective of someone who had left and was forced to return.

That first year of my baby's life was one of the hardest in the sense that I didn't feel like I knew what I was doing and I felt completely alone in my experience.

Your hometown is supposed to be the place you can always come back to, but what if you've changed completely while you were gone?

As I made new friends in Phoenix, many of them new parents and one of them also a single mother, I gradually found a community for me, peppered with a few high school friends from the past. I had my first taste of the career I would later have for 8 years. I slowly collected a variety of regular hang-out spots that my baby and I could frequent.

Then in the Spring of 2002, I decided to apply for a teaching internship in the SF Bay Area. At the time, I really wanted to be back with my college friends in the culturally, ethnically rich city I had left.

I made a plea bargain with God. If He would let me return to the Bay Area, for just this one year, I would return to settle back to Phoenix. Just one year. Being able for my toddler to grow up with her aunties nearby.

Well, I got to live that one year back in the Bay Area. And, it turned out that I even got to go to New York for two years after that. Still, after New York, I found my way back to the Bay Area to San Francisco proper.

San Francisco, one of the most beautiful cities in the world. A city I had taken for granted because I lived so near it in college. Five years of living in San Francisco has spoiled me with its food, weather, and artsy opportunities. And now, when it seems like my life is on the cusp of change again, I'm reminded of my promise in 2002:

"If you let me live back in the Bay Area for just one year, I will come back to Phoenix after that."

2010. Eight years after my promise. I had been living on borrowed time... and I had forgotten my promise.

So, if life does bring me back to my hometown, I feel like I should be ready to accept this fact. And welcome the opportunity to raise my daughter in the grounded place that formed me.

I will always have the experiences from outside the state border. And my eyes have been opened to different perspectives that Phoenicians may not have even considered.

But I can bring those perspectives back home. And continue to improve the place where I belong.

Blogging from the SF Asian American Film Festival!

2010 SF Asian American Film Festival

This is my third year volunteering for the festival; fourth year attending. Right now, I am staffing the Hospitality Lounge for guests and filmmakers at the festival. Here's where you can check in to get your pass, swag bag, comp tix (three per day!), and refreshments.

Last night, I helped with the pre-reception for the opening film Today's Special. There were samples of new products: chocolate-covered mango, pistachio biscotti, and chai nut brittle.

I love being part of the festival because it makes me feel part of something bigger.

new directions

2010 will be bringing some pretty big changes.

What's most scary about change is the uncertainty. Status quo can be pretty comforting, albeit boring. Just the other month I was thinking about how my life had NOT changed in three years and how I felt stuck in a rut.

Someone upstairs must have been listening.

What's especially scary is having someone else dependent on me. For example, if I suddenly had to move, I'd be ok crashing on friends' couches. But it's different when you have a kid. We can't even fit on one couch together anymore.

I hope the changes are good. I hope this next chapter is even better.

p.s. yes, my blog entry title is a total Glee allusion...

my roots

I ventured into Chinatown today. I thought it might be a good idea to get "sio bao" or "bao zi" (BBQ pork buns) before I picked up A from an overnight. I knew if I drove down Stockton I would find a bakery.

Wing Sing (not to be confused with Yank Sing) had beautiful baked and steamed buns for 80 cents! They're like giant, pillowy, Chinese Hot Pockets. I tried desperately to use my Mandarin in the heavily Cantonese environment.

"Liou ge bao zi," I ordered, holding up my hand in the universal six sign. It looks like the "Hang loose!" gesture with less shaking.

As one woman wrapped by food, another asked me something in Chinese. I repeated what I had said, thinking that lady #2 was the one running the cash register. Nope -- they use gloves to pick up the buns AND collect the dollar bills. So lady #2 was very annoyed with me and started complaining to her coworkers in Chinese.

I left the shop, clutching my neatly bundled Pepto-Bismol-pink box, with my head hung down in shame.

Passing on the Language

So I am 2nd generation, which means my parents were born abroad and I am the first generation to be born here. Inevitably, what happens as more generations are produced, is that the language becomes lost.

My comprehension, in my family's dialect Fukien, is ok -- I can usually follow the conversations of my aunts and uncle around the dinner table. It also helps that they sprinkle in English words here and there.

My reproduction of Fukien, however, is pretty poor. My tongue feels pretty useless in pronouncing the words correctly.

Fortunately, I've been able to pass on three important phrases to A that should pretty much get her through life:

1) STAND UP ("tsan chi lai"): Used frequently throughout her toddler years when changing her clothes. I still use it to get her to move from her preferred location: planted in front of the TV.

2) HURRY UP ("ha kin nay oh"): Again, probably one of the most useful phrases in parenting. Children never move quite fast enough (unless they are running away from you, diaper-less), so having that phrase handy helps keep us on a time table. It has also come in handy here walking around the city b/c she knows when I say it, she should stay really close to me. It's much more helpful than shouting "HURRY UP!" whenever a questionable person is walking by.

3) BUNS ("ka tsung"): Every culture has an affectionate term for that body part we spend many years wiping clean. Good thing it is such a cute body part. I'm sure being able to refer to it in our native tongue strengthens the cultural bond to our ancestors.

Realistically, the only way she will learn to speak Chinese is by taking Mandarin in high school or college. I'm not sure I'm ready to commit her to spending her weekends in Chinese School.

And really, in the end, the best it will help her with is ordering food in restaurants or helping translate conversations between senior citizens and store keepers, when called upon. That's the best I've been able to do with my Chinese.

Tired...

I'm so tired. RE: Parenting. Every day is not hard; it's the cumulative days that is hard.

Flu

I've been home with A for four days now... going on five. She had a 103 fever and threw up, but has slowly been getting better. Her fever was 99 - 101, but it's gone away. She's had a surprising amount of energy. I was expecting her to be lethargic and tippy, but she's been able to walk around. However, today, she started getting narcoleptic, so we may be out the whole school week. I'm trying to get her take a proper nap, but the Blue Angels are zooming overhead. Boo on Fleet Week!

So far, we've watched a few movies and lots and lots of TV. We made it to the movie theater yesterday and watched "Toy Story" and "Toy Story 2" in 3D. 3 hours and 45 minutes of 3D cartoons... I kept looking at my watch, but stopped after I looked over at her, grinning in her 3D glasses. She was having a grand old time.

The Blogging Mom Who Lied

This news story today about "April's Mom" is fascinating... a young woman who has been writing a blog was actually lying about being pregnant with a terminally-ill baby. Here's her apology:


http://littleoneapril.blogspot.com

It seems many people became emotionally invested in her story and have been following her blog, hoping she would carry the baby to term.

I'm not surprised that she was able to carry the ruse so far. If she had not posted a picture of her with the doll, then she may have gotten away with it.

She could have used that time to write a fiction piece about the experience she created. But the blogging world makes it much easier to find an audience and get that immediate feedback.

How long was she expecting to go on with the lie?

It reminds me of Azia Kim, the 18 year old girl from Fullerton, CA, who pretended that she was a freshman at Stanford for EIGHT MONTHS before getting caught. She went to classes and even lived in a dorm.

What makes these women try to create and live a certain reality?

Eight Years... and counting

It is my "baby's" eighth birthday today. It also marks eight years of me being a single mom.

For her b-day party, she wanted to have a slumber party with three friends. So we all have been camping out in our one bedroom apartment. They've taken over my bed. I got kicked out to the couch.

Every time A has her friends over, I have this small knot in my stomach that they will comment on our poorer lifestyle.

"Why is your house so small?"

"Why do you live in an apartment?"

"Why don't you have your own room?"

I feel this self-imposed pressure to compensate. I try to make our house the most fun or the most "cool." As if using buttercup yellow bowls makes up for the fact that we can't all sit around our kitchen table.

Thankfully, A doesn't seem to notice or mind. It amazes me how proud she is of our home. She will show off different toys and engage them in activities. Last night, they took all the couch pillows off and turned the small bedroom floor into one giant mattress.

In private, I've sometimes asked her things like, "Do you wish we had a bigger home?"

But to her, this is home. It is big because of the love and fun inside.

Money Matters

When it really came down to making my decision, the main thing that worried me was finances. Not having money to raise a child was a very scary prospect. I kept imagining my future kid, dressed in rags, eating at McDonald's every night.

But it was hard to let money be the ONLY factor causing me to choose adoption because my family -- and extended family -- is fairly well-off. It wasn't as if my family didn't have resources. It just didn't seem right to conclude that we couldn't afford another baby.

I have now realized that it still matters most whether _I_ can afford something. Because really, I've always provided for the majority of her costs. Maybe other families are different, but it's not like I can ask for money from my family. And it's not like they've been offering me money over the years.

But back to The Decision... At first, I had to deal with the immediate costs, like medical insurance and hospital fees. After I became pregnant, I was able to continue my student health coverage to last until June, so all of my OB/GYN visits and her delivery were covered.

Some very generous women at my church threw me a baby shower. My friends threw me one as well. I was able to amass the baby paraphernalia I needed for the first six months.

After I had my baby, I moved in with my aunt in my hometown for several months, before finding a job and moving out to an apartment. Since then, we've hopped around apartments, always small 1 bedrooms.

I was on WIC (Women, Infants, and Children) for her first year, which provided free formula and some grocery items. She's had state-funded health insurance, on-and-off.

For the first five years, my mom helped me financially with rent money here and there. I also inherited some money when my grandparents died a few years ago. Both of those things really made it possible for me to survive financially.

When my baby turned two, I went to grad school for two years, taking out loans to pay for that. Now I am steadily employed as a teacher and can pretty much make ends meet without financial help at all.

We don't have many luxuries, but we haven't lived a deprived life. Opportunities pop up for us to attend fancy events. We've traveled a bit on the East Coast and through California. My mother pays for our plane tickets whenever we visit her.

And, my daughter has never had to wear rags. Over the years, she's worn hand-me-down clothes and new clothes and fancy dresses from Nana... but never the rag of my imagination.

And, we only eat at McDonald's a few times a year. So, all-in-all, I am thankful that it has worked out financially. At the rate I'm going, I will never be rich. But I am "rich" in love from her.

Single Moms on "American Idol"

Tomorrow night, television’s most captivating competition continues with the “American Idol” Season 8 “Top 12″ – or “Top 13,” as announced during the shocking Wildcard show on Thursday night.

Guess who two of the promising thirteen contestants are? Alexis Grace and Megan Joy Corkrey, both single moms of young tots.

Alexis is the 21-year-old soulful petite mom with a stripe of pink hair from Memphis, TN. Megan is the 23-year-old “current” tattooed singer from Utah who echoes Nelly Furtado.

The interview vignettes show the mothers playing with their babies at home, and lamenting the fact that they have to be away from their children for so long. But, the temporary sacrifice may pay off in the long run, ensuring a better life for their families.

Now, I’m sure that across America, there are plenty of people clucking their tongues in judgment. Why should the most popular TV show showcase unwed mothers? Won’t it send the message to young girls that it’s okay to get pregnant?

I think it sends a stronger message: that despite the difficult circumstances these two young mothers face, they are working hard to pursue their dreams. And isn’t that the ultimate American dream?

Alexis and Megan join the ranks of previous single mother contestants, including Season 3 winner Fantasia Barrino and Season 1 contestant Nikki McKibbin.

-- this was originally posted on my friend's blog, Single Mom Seeking.

The Adoption Option

For a while during my pregnancy, I considered adoption. I thought it was only fair to the baby to consider all the possibilities. People are so afraid to bring that option up to an unmarried girl. But I strongly encourage women to really think it through. Because being a mother is not just about playing with babies. That baby grows up to become a sticky, squirmy toddler. That toddler grows up to become a kid.

For me, one important consideration if I gave my baby up for adoption was that I wanted her to go to an Asian couple. I didn't want her growing up with a family that looked different than her.

In perusing one website with loving, stable couples, I could only find white couples and at most, couples with an Asian woman.

Asian couples probably either don't choose adoption or rely on adopting internationally. With China and Korea having two of the largest adoptee populations (and the paucity of domestic Asian birthmothers), it would make sense for Asian couples to seek kids abroad.

But as each picture popped up on the screen, I had this recurring gut feeling that proclaimed "I don't want to give my baby to them!"

For me, I had always known that I wanted to be a mom. And, at that point in my life, I didn't have a specific career or life plan that I would have had to give up in order to be a mom.

I was ok giving up luxuries in order to be a mom. I figured I wouldn't get to travel internationally anymore. I had seen parts of Asian and Europe. I would be ok without travel.

What I didn't realize was that becoming a single mom meant giving up travel within the home. For five years, I would never get to travel to the bathroom alone. Moreover, for seven years, in almost every store around the city, I would have to travel to the bathroom multiple times a day.