I try not to do it... I try not to look, knowing how it will trigger me.

I try not to read about infertile women looking for babies, but I did it today, because I'm a masochist, and it seems like today is a good day for pain.

Today's find involves yet another infertile blogger, advising others how to find a baby.  Yes, Virginia, there are many like you, wanting to know oh-so-desperately, "what needs to happen so a baby can be delivered, ASAP?"

Many years ago, I had many discussions with a first-mother who lost her son, first through adoption, then later to suicide.

Our phone conversations were especially hard because I could hear the sob in her voice.  Her voice sounded like that of a child... yet her words written on adoption forums read like she was a very well-informed profoundly strong woman.  Like me, (at the time), she was a warrior in words, but a weepy child in private.

When I first asked my adoptive parents why they didn't have children of their own, they told me they couldn't get children of their own. I don't know if they used the word "infertility", I was too young anyway to understand five syllable words at the time. Had there not been more to it, I would have never heard and probably would never have asked.

Ask the average person, "What do you know about adoption?" and more than likely, the response will reflect a sentiment that shows a superficial knowledge about child-placement, and the business that goes behind selling children to other families in our society.  There are laws based on contracts, and deals made during times of duress, yet profit and parenting is being sold to the highest bidders, and children are the ones being handled like cargo, trafficked to whatever place comes next.