People say that parenting is one of the hardest jobs on the planet however I missed the class that said that having your children could be even harder.
Jake’s adoption---as adoptions go---was a cake walk (10 months). Looking back, this is both a blessing (then) and a curse (now). It set the bar too high for my expectations on adoption #2.
I arrogantly thought that the 2nd time around would be as easy as the first. We moved from Pennsylvania to New York so we couldn’t use the same service professionals but it never occurred to me it would be much different. In my mind it was to go like this: chose service professionals, tackle the mountain of paperwork, and wait for baby. I obviously experienced a moment of pure insanity.
Long story short: there is nothing easy about adoption. Nothing.
We have been at this second adoption for 18 months and with each passing day that we don’t get chosen by a birthmother the disappointment mounts. My longing for a baby has intensified. Everywhere I look women are pregnant. Everywhere I go I see a constant sea of double strollers. It’s not so much a jealousy factor, it’s just a daily reminder that this isn’t working as I had planned and I am still waiting. Whenever I pat my stomach and say, “I’m 18 months pregnant” I realize how silly that statement may sound to some---but it’s true. We started this process 18 months ago and now here we are back to square one. I try to stay positive and I try to be optimistic but my god 18 months with no end in sight? The process is slowly killing me.
It was one thing to be infertile. That I can take. But a failed adoption is basically a miscarriage (which brings me to 4). And then to have an adoption drag out over 18 moths is just plain cruel and unusual punishment. And just so you know 18 months in the adoption world is not considered an overly long time to wait. There are many people who wait 2+ years for their children.
But in my mind this should have been over by now. I should have been sending out birth announcements instead of a Christmas card a few months ago. I had them all picked out and had dreamt of taking a picture of Jake holding his new brother or sister. Instead I found myself scrambling for a picture of the boy that would fool everyone into thinking that it was taken with intent. I can’t wait until the day I can say “my children” without it being a hypothetical concept.
Putting on a brave face won’t prevent me from getting my heart broken repeatedly but it does convince the rest of the world that I am ok. When clearly I am not. This only leaves me open to the fact that if I happen to fall apart everyone will wonder what the heck happened to her? As I see it I have had two options from the start: Put on a brave face and do everything within my power to make this happen or fall apart. I am not really interested in option #2.
So on a daily basis I have faith. I get up in the morning and put one foot in front of the other, count my many blessings, and keep moving forward. But I have to wonder, how did I get here?
Love much,
xob
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1 comment:
We just went through a failed adoption in January. It's an extremely hard thing to go through. We feel fortunate that the entire process was 4 days but it still feels just as horrible. This is the first time I've been to your blog and it was interesting to read your description of how you felt. My husband used the exact same descriptor of "being kicked in the gut". I'm really enjoying reading your blog. It's reaffirming to read that other people are going through the same thing - as hard as it may be.
I wish you all the best!
Jen
www.waitingforbambino.blogspot.com
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