For the last 18 months I have participated in a Secret Pal exchange with my June 2006
DTC group. In the beginning, the exchange was exciting and fun, but after 18 months and no end in sight, we decided to put an end to the SP exchange and support each other in different ways.
I have been a truly awful Secret Pal. Although I am grateful, my thanks have been sporadic, and I am beyond tardy with my part of the exchange. My poor Secret Pal hasn't received a gift since September. My heart just quit and the excitement about wrapping tiny dresses and tights, mini cardigans, and baby supplies that gather dust was just gone. This is my public apology to my poor Secret Pal who probably thinks we've dropped the program. We haven't dropped, I just dropped the ball while wallowing in my own self-pity.
Nevertheless, my Secret Pal, the one who sends to me, has never succumbed to the numbing depression and rage that surrounds this interminable wait. She has been a light of hope and kindness throughout these months of pining; a real trooper, you might say. My Secret Pal knows me. She took the time to pay attention to my likes and dislikes, my interests, and the things I value for my daughter-to-be. She acknowledged my hope that Ruby will be a reader and love books as much as I by including book in every package. My Secret Pal gave us Ruby's first trick-or-treat bag, memory book, and toys to be packed for China. She included B in the exchange by sending adorable
onsies, T-shirts, and leggings that announce to the world that Ruby's daddy is a rocker and one cool dude. Her
conscientious kindness to C's role of
jie jie was always heartfelt, and is much, much appreciated. C proudly wears the "
Adoption is Love" jelly bracelet, sent almost a year ago, every single day. I would love to post pictures, but my camera cord has been missing since April or May and I haven't replaced it. Take my word for it - she knows me.
Along the way, I began to have an inkling of who My Secret Pal was. Her gifts were too spot on, too close to home. I was amazed at how well she knew me. I figured she visited here, but some of her letters and poems would hit me in the gut and make me think - we've met or should meet, we've talked beyond this exchange. Needless to say, I wasn't too surprised to open my last package to see a flurry of these

all over the wrapping paper surrounding a
penguin bowling set, a book about
penguins, and some awesome penguin pajamas (you are so getting a Christmas picture of Ruby in these!):
Krista, aka Special K, you have been more than a "pal" during these last 18 months, you have become my friend and oftentimes an anchor in this process. Every month your reminders that someone else is out there going through this, that we are not alone was at times, the only acknowledgement outside of B, C and me, that Ruby
is coming. You have been my champion, my monthly remembrance, my reality check, and a never-say-die supporter, and I am eternally grateful.
Someday,
we will meet, and when we see each other for the first time face-to-face, there will be no awkwardness, no "am I really going to like her" anxiety, and no hesitancy to hug tight and hold on.
Thank you my friend.