Now that we are back at school, many people are asking me about the baby. Have I heard any news about any potential babies or birthmoms? The answer is no. All summer...there hasn't been any news. I have rested, healed, cried, wrote, cried some more and tried to get past the failed adoption that encompassed my spring.
But the shoes are ready.
The diaper bag is packed and ready to go.
Fleecy is waiting for a new friend. She is sitting in the music box Charlie gave me when we found out about the first baby. The music box is still waiting.
Going back to school has been emotionally draining for me. I'm surrounded by children all day. Normally it doesn't get me down, but I think about how my daughter might have started kindergarten in five years and it makes my blue. All the possibilities are still out there. Nothing feels resolved, nothing feels settled. It's the same. We're waiting.
I don't know how to change what I'm feeling when I'm stuck in the same place. The circumstances aren't changing, and I want to feel more optimistic. In fact, I fake the optimism when talking to people about it, but I can be real with you. Right?
Let me say, for the record, that pregnant people don't bother me, make me sad or make me angry. What it makes me is jealous. I just want to be included, but it isn't unlike the feeling I had when I was single and wanted a boyfriend. And while jealousy isn't the most flattering emotion, and isn't gracious at all, it's the truth. It's what's there. I just want to be getting ready for something too. I want a due date!
Adoption is a lonely place, sometimes. All the world knows what it's like to be pregnant, but very few people can understand what it means to adopt. To put yourself out there and be rejected. It gets wrapped up in my self-confidence. Think about this: someone has to choose us. A birthmom has to say "I want these people to raise my baby." And then she has to actually do it. She has to look at that baby and say goodbye. Our birthmother couldn't do it. It broke my heart, but I can understand it, but that doesn't mean I don't feel like the rug got pulled out from underneath me.
I'm thankful that there are several people at my church and at my school that have gone through adoption. There's even one woman who experienced a failed adoption. She understands and is getting me through it.
Keep praying for us, please. Pray that I can remain steady through the time that stretches out in front of us, with no end in sight. I want to be able to focus on what I do have and enjoy it. It would be good for Charlie and I to enjoy each other while we can. Right?
(trust me, I know I babble on about adoption way too much. Waaaaaaayyy too much. I'm sorry about that, but it's what's on my heart.)