Where I Stand Now

I hesitate to post this. One of the goal's of this blog was to be completely open and honest about the adoption process not only on a factual level but an emotional one as well. But it is starting to feel like I have some kind of Muenchhausen syndrome, garnering attention through my pain. So this is your warning, if you are tired of listening to my pain, stop reading now. I won't be hurt. Feel free to leave comments telling me to shut up and suck it up. No don't. You know me.

What scares me the most is being consumed by the process. Once we were matched, we knew that on the baby's birthday that someone would be a happy parent(s), and somone would be grieving. We ended up being the grieving ones. And I am starting to feel like that is all I am ever going to feel. I am having trouble seeing the light at the end of the tunnel because I feel like the tunnel has collapsed. My mind knows that is not true, but my heart can't believe that I will be a mom someday. (God, that's a design flaw. Really, the brain should have way more control over the heart. You'd save yourself a lot of messes that way.) I am in constant conflict, and I am afraid I am losing myself to that conflict.
I want a child because my life is wonderful. I want to share that will a little one. I want to know that I can make a baby's life wonderful too and through that make the world a little better. But the process as been so full of sorrow and frustration, I feel like what I have that is so wonderful is dulling. And I don't want that. It will make me bitter and unhappy. I am just not sure what is going to polish it back up.I suppose the polish is supposed to be the baby. That is a lot to put on a little pair of shoulders. I don't want my complete happiness to be riding on this one thing. Parenthood will never be fulfilling that way. And I am also sick of feeling sorry for myself and everyone else feeling sorry for me. I hate getting attention this way. Look at me because my pathetic uterus won't get the job done, and some poor girl dashed my hopes to save her own. (This is the Catch-22 of this blog.)
Those are the down times. They come and go. Ultimately my brain does end up taking back over. I look at John and once again am awed by how much I love him. And then overwhelmed by how much he loves me. Then we laugh about something personal, go on a bike ride, cuddle on the couch with the pets, get frustrated with the dogs, go on a car trip to visit friends, meet family or friends for dinner, or just sleep in, and I feel ever so lucky. The list of life's goals is endless if you let it be. This one goal is proving to be harder than I ever thought possible. I will make sure the other goals that I have will not be overshadowed or destroyed. The struggle has just been more prometheanian these last two weeks. And it doesn't look like it is going to get any easier.
I am glad I have so much support from so many, especially John. That is my buoy. My marriage is my joy that can never be touched by any sadness.
Except maybe the horde of lunchtime plastic containers in his car.

All Quiet on the Western Front

Well not really quiet, but my current level of emotional ability has me contemplating the war story by Erich Remarque. It is the story of German trench soldiers during WWI, and the desensitization to war they go through. Yet they keep on fighting because otherwise there is only death.
We keep on fighting.
There is no choice because we know that we are meant to be parents. It is as simple as that. We will be parents because we make the choice to be.
"It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew - and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents - that there was all the difference in the world."
OK, OK, maybe not exactly like that, but you get my point. And I got to get Harry Potter in there, so score!
We cried. We hugged. We got a little drunk. We gathered with family.
And now we move on.
We talked to our SW today to get back into the book.
She emailed us an hour later with a situation they have in MD. She had to contact us because the agency is not licensed in MD, so we would need to pay a fee to a lawyer in MD to take care of the paperwork.
No other information than that. We will keep you posted.

We are also considering joining the Caucasian program (which means White, Hispanic/Latino, Asian, and any combination) just to open ourselves to more families.
We are not, at this time, continuing with the national agency we were starting out with before this disappointment came up. It doesn't feel right for us. We like AFTH.
We will be starting the homestudy renewal as well. It is only good for a year, and it was completed last May 10th. Time flies when you are having fun, doesn't it?

Thanks to everyone for all of your support, both during the good and the bad. It means a lot to us.

Disappointment

The baby was born this morning, and the birth mother has decided to parent her.
We wish her the best of luck.
My head tells me that I would never want a baby when the mother would have any regrets and could think it was not the best decision.
My heart is having a little trouble catching on.
Please don't make any comments, calls, tweets, texts, emails, etc. We need to process and grieve on our own for a little while. We will let everyone know when we are back on track.
Thank you for all of your support. It means a lot to us.

A little more information - spoiler alert!

While the birth mother has been unsure about sharing the baby's gender (We figured she didn't know.), we found out today that it appears to be a little girl! Now she just has to decide it's time to make an appearance.

No, this is not THE POST

Just wanted everyone to know that we are still on baby watch, waiting for the phone to ring. In the meantime, the nursery is all ready to go!

I am having a little trouble fighting off some paranoia about this all slipping through our fingers. It's not bad, but every once in a while I get a little panic attack. I then try and find something baby related to do. I am officially done with school for the year as leaving on the last day before Spring Break was the least disruptive for everyone, but it means a lot of time on my hands. I am doing the best to relax since there won't be much time for that soon. Still I am not use to this much leisure time. It's a tad disconcerting.

Dear Little One

I want you to know that I haven't been sleeping . . . see, we're waiting for a phone call, and my mind is on high alert. Each little noise - the wind, a dog's snore, my own creaky joints creaking - makes me think that it might be a phone ringing, and I'm waking myself up, just in case

I want you to know that I'm more excited than I've ever been in my life. I've had some great moments, but this is pushing all of them aside.

I want you to know that you're entering into a world that is going to love you. People I barely know can't wait to hear about you. People love you without even knowing your name. Everybody is just so excited for your arrival.

I want you to know that I'm scared. You're going to be quite the responsibility -- I've never doubted my ability or desire to be a father, but I hope I don't let you down.

I want you to know that I'm going to spoil you. Sure, I'll put up a hard face sometimes, but you'll likely always, always win.

I want you to know that family is not just blood -- you're going to have grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins -- some will be related to you, some will not. All of them will love you.

I want you to know that I can't wait to introduce you to everybody. I don't know your name yet, but you're already my pride & joy.

Registry

We succumbed and registered at Target. The little drool machines are expensive.