Good-bye 2013

I finally got my period today – it was roughly 3 ½ weeks late. And of course it is heavy and crampy because that is just how life is – it kicks you in the teeth when you are down……. The end of the year is always a time I reflect on the past year and look forward to a better one to come. Or at least I used to…. That’s when I believed that I had any choice in what happens, that I could make plans and goals and resolutions. But, surely you’ve heard that we make plans and God laughs at us? So, then there must be no point in making plans. Just get up and do what needs to be done that day. I thought about making goals for 2014, improving on this past year, but I don’t see a point now. What’s going to happen, will happen and I’m powerless to do much about it. Overall, 2013 wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t fantastic either. This past year was one of growth and frustration. I finally extracted myself from Flaco and met someone decent (we are staying in tonight – ordering take out and watching a movie or two). I was a lot more handy and on top of things around the house (there’s still a lot of room for improvement, but no point in planning on it). I had my longest placement, which lasted nearly the entire year and I was officially approved to adopt, although a permanent placement seems rather elusive.  I’ve been told that I should keep believing that something good will happen, that God will answer my prayers. I’ve been told to not lose faith, to keep praying and to remember in the scripture it says God will not forsake us, He has plans to prosper us. In this world we will have trouble but He leaves us His peace. I keep looking for evidence of a plan or a reason why all this has been happening. Some people believe that all things happen for a reason, but I do not. This 5 year string of unfortunate events does not have meaning, it’s not happening for a reason, unless I am to believe that 5 years ago and every year since I wasn’t good enough to become a mother. Sometimes life just sucks because life just sucks. God can use the pain and suffering to do something good and I do believe that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. But, I’m sick to death of being stronger! How much stronger must I get? I do believe God has a plan but I’m beginning to think His plan and mine are not the same thing. Maybe God will prove me wrong and 2014 will turn out to be different, maybe it will be “the year” instead of 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, or 2013…….

Not Meant to Be

Why this wasn’t meant to be is something I cannot comprehend. Not even a little bit. “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” I dread returning the baby clothing that was bought in such elation. I will dutifully put the basinet and car seat back in the basement and try not to think too much about the implication of storing useless furniture. The baby clothing I washed and put in the baby dresser can stay where it is – I have no immediate need for the space in the drawers and perhaps the clothing will be needed before too long. The pain will recede and soon I will be thinking about another baby from another phone call or email. This is the life of a foster-to-adopt parent. The family worker told me the county is going to have a hearing in 30 days and that if things are not going according to the safety plan the baby might go into care. How f-ing ignorant! Why does there need to be a safety plan if this person is the right choice, the best option? It’s just what I expected to hear, only it sucks hearing it.

 

A friend told me today that, in her experience, you just need to live your life and be happy and then things will happen for you. Her story is that when she decided she wanted to have kids her husband decided he didn’t (even though they had both agreed they did want kids before they got married) and so for 5 years they battled over this life altering decision until he relented (after she moved out) and they are now expecting a second (accidental) child. She wondered if I was happy with my life as it is right now. I wouldn’t say I am unhappy with my life in general. Am I happy right now? Well, no. But, that’s just because of this whole “you’re getting a baby!” “no you’re not, his aunt has shown up ” situation. I do wish things were different in my life, not just because I don’t have a child. I wish things didn’t happen the way they did with Flaco (and sometimes I wish I had never married him!). I wish I (we) had made better financial decisions so I wouldn’t be where I am financially. I would say there is a general level of discontent due to the upheaval I experienced in 2012, but I’m not depressed or miserable or even generally unhappy. I’m just kind of stuck. I have done things for me – I took a writing course and I’m contemplating taking another. I’ve gone on three bus trips this year and I’ve completed two furniture projects with more ideas in the works. I did much better with my flower garden this year and have plans for more things next year. I guess I would say I feel like there is something missing in my life, even when I am happy. I’ve adjusted to living alone and to being unattached. I’m trying to date ( we are officially considered boyfriend and girlfriend now – there was a long discussion about this when we went out Saturday night) and stay busy. Do I wish things were different? Yes, I do. But, I have come to accept the things I cannot change, no matter how much I don’t like them. Am I happy today? No, not really. I’m upset about what happened with first getting a baby and then not.   

 

Tomorrow is another day. The last day of the year, in fact. 2013 was a marked improvement from 2012, but still full of ups and downs, with one final downer at the end. But, there will be other placements, why get so hung up on this one? I am giving myself a cut-off date because I cannot live life like this indefinitely. If I do not have an adoption placement by this time next year, I am done. I am giving myself the next year, 2014, and if I don’t get a placement that is moving towards permanency, then I am going to stop. And I don’t mean this like other deadlines I have given myself, I just need to see an end in sight. Maybe I will stop and just take a break or maybe I will stop for good, but I can’t keep living this way. I’m sure this constant up and down is not good for me and I don’t think it can go on forever. So, if things don’t happen in 2014 like I’m hoping they do, I will be biding motherhood adieu this time next year…….

Same Old, Same Old

I am sad. But, at the same time there is a feeling of sameness. I’ve been here before, have I not? This is not a new pain to me, it is the same old pain that has been a specter in my life for the last 5 years. And yes, I know there will be other placements, but when a friend told me this morning “there will be others” I couldn’t help but wonder if she would offer the same flippant response to a woman grieving a miscarriage? In reality this baby was never mine, but in my heart he was. The pain of losing him is no less real because I never “had” him. I suppose I should not pontificate on things I know nothing about – I have never experienced the heartbreak of a miscarriage, but I can imagine how painful it must be, knowing how I feel after losing a placement that was never mine. I know I am speaking as if everything is already a done deal when in fact it is not. I suppose there is some slim chance this aunt is a hot mess incapable of caring for this beautiful baby boy. I should remain hopeful and positive. I was reading a Bible study this morning that was talking about giving our worries and burdens to God, just giving up trying to figure things out and trying to make things happen and just trust God to take care of us. I want to be able to do that and get the peace that supposedly comes with placing your burden in God’s hands. But, I can’t. I just can’t give it up and say, “You handle it” because I fear He will decide I’m not worthy or that His plan is for me to wait longer or never become a mother at all. I fear He won’t give me what I want and so I fight for it. Unfortunately, I’m pretty darn stubborn about it. I guess I find it hard to believe that I could possibly get what I have been striving to have for so long (on the surface 5 years doesn’t seem like a long time, but in this battle it sure does!). I don’t want to remain childless for the rest of my life and I don’t want to wait until I find someone before I become a mother. But, if I am fighting God’s will, I’m just spinning my tires. I don’t know what to do. I know there is an insatiable urge within my heart to become a mother. I have always wanted to be a mother and I did the responsible thing. I got married, bought a house, saved some money and then decided it was time to try to start a family. And once I started there seems to be no way to go back. I can’t stop. A switch has been flipped and cannot be turned off, I cannot stop doing all I can do to become a mother. If this is such a big burning desire in my heart, how can it not be part of God’s will to let me become a mother? I want to be humble and submit to God’s will, but I want His will to be mine. I have been told God is in control and God has a plan and I believe that (most days) but at face value things seem pretty messed up right now and too scrambled to be part of any plan. Obviously, I cannot see how all these things fit together and I cannot see the end results, but I could see how perfect it would have been. It was easy to see a beautiful plan last Friday – getting a baby boy from the hospital two days before Christmas. Sheer perfection! Now, it just seems like torture. What lesson am I to get out of this, other than I cannot get my hopes up and I should keep things to myself and not get others to join me on this roller coaster ride.

 

Not for the first time a few friends of mine, who are familiar with adopting from foster care, have suggested I look into working directly with a county children and youth services organization rather than CHOR, which is a secondary agency. The county’s always look to find a placement with their own families before they turn to a secondary agency, like CHOR. The logic would be that there are more options for families working with the county agencies rather than the other agencies. After this heartache I am seriously considering it. I wanted to stay with CHOR because I felt some loyalty for them since they didn’t toss me out after the issue with the first placement. And, because I fear my name is mud with my own county and that they would never take me on as a foster-to-adopt parent. The other thing I need to worry about is that I am completely and totally ready, approved, and done with the process, the paperwork, and training (although every year we need more hours of  training). If I jump ship I worry I will have to start all over again from scratch. A friend who works in CYS asked if CHOR couldn’t just transfer my paperwork to the county. She suggested I talk to one of the supervisors at  Berks CYS about what happened two years ago to see if they would consider taking me on. The other option I have is to work with Montgomery County because the case worker from the last case I had already asked me to move with them. This would potentially mean driving an hour one way for training, but if I could get a baby faster, it would be worth it. I guess I will have to look into it after the holidays. But, it would mean another issue for me – finding child care. I know three CHOR families that have a daycare in their home, but if I leave CHOR I would need to find other foster families at the new agency and  that can sometimes be hard. Especially, if I leave the county and would have to drive far to take the child to daycare. So, there are a lot of things I need to consider before I make the decision. My family worker will be coming over in the next few weeks to do my annual home visit and I guess I will need to talk to her about it.

 

I want to be able to put this whole messy ordeal behind me, not just what happened with this baby but the whole infertility/adoption journey. I’m afraid it has irrevocably changed me. In a good way, I know it has made me stronger and made me realize just how much I can endure. But, I think it has also robbed me of so much. Even when I am happy for someone who is having a baby, there is still a small part of me that hurts. And I worry that the strain of foster-to-adopt will make me paranoid that someone will come and steal my baby from me because a distant relative has shown up. And more than anything, I worry that I will never be able to enjoy my life because I will always have a longing to be a mother and the way things have been going that seems nearly impossible. I hope this is just one more bump in the road and I will be able to realize my dreams sooner than I think, but I just don’t know. I need to keep digging so I can let go and let God……..

Know When to Fold 'em

I won’t be getting the baby tomorrow (Friday). The hospital won’t release him until Monday, at the earliest. At this point, the county has not been able to check out the presenting relative, due to the holiday. The county won’t be able to tell CHOR anything until Monday. So, they might decide to send the baby home with his aunt and I won’t ever meet him, or hold him. I did find out his name. Not that it matters. I haven’t quite figured out how so much happiness and joy can turn into such bitter sorrow. I can’t keep my life on pause, so I’m going to move forward and chalk this up to a very hard lesson learned very well – NEVER, ever, ever, ever get your hopes up until the baby is in your arms and the judge has signed the adoption paperwork. I guess I can pack things back up, tuck them away for another call, another day. Maybe…. Perhaps I’m being as brash now in giving up as I was in rushing out to get the things I thought I would need. It’s unfortunate, but I’ve already given up and let go of the dream of getting this baby. Why hang onto hope when evidence points to more heart break? Unfortunately, while I HATE when people tell me there will always be another placement, because that means there will be another child in need, there will be other placements. I get stuck on one placement and I have a hard time moving past it. I wanted this baby, I felt such love for him without ever meeting him. That’s why having a bassinet set up in my bedroom and remain empty is too much for me to bear. And the empty car seat should not continue joy riding in the back of my car, so it shall be returned to the basement. I have baby clothing to return and I have to shove the baby tub back under my bed (it’s a pain in the neck tripping over it in the bathroom). I would rather never hold this baby, never kiss his sweet face, than have him come home to me only to have to turn right around and give him away to a relative. Never seeing him is the lesser of two evils. So, I will go back to waiting. Waiting to hear about the other two placements. Waiting for another phone call. Trying to dig deep and find some hope in God’s plan. Right now, I don’t really agree with His plan. Right now, it seems cruel to have this happen on top of everything else I have endured these last 5 years. The Bible tells us God has a good plan for our lives, to prosper us not to harm us, to give us hope and a future. This is not how I feel right now. I feel defeated, hopeless, broken, and lost. How does this roller coaster ride of high highs and low lows help me? It certainly does not give me hope. I have to dig real deep and find my mantra of “I trust You God, I trust Your plan” because let me tell you something, it’s not coming to me easy right now. I’m beginning to wonder if God’s trying to tell me to give it up already. Just stop. Know when to fold ‘em Chica. Know when to walk away…….

Just Another Heartache

I should know better, you think I would by now..... Nothing is more tenuous than a potential foster care placement. I called CHOR this morning, like I was supposed to and I even waited an extra 8 minutes (just so I wouldn't be calling at exactly 9:30). The baby had a episode over the weekend - apnea - and so the earliest he can be discharged is Friday. Bummer. Even worse? An aunt has shown up as a resource, which is foster care speak for, he could never be mine. That's the risk in legal risk. And the only thing worse than that is that my mom went crazy and bought outfits and blankets and I washed most of it and, although I don't know his name or even if he has one (I'm assuming he does), I had decided on a name for him and I washed two loads of baby clothes, washed and sterilized bottles, took off work (and made a huge mess of things in the process), I have the bassinet all set up, the diaper bag all packed, the car seat strapped in my car, I did my last minute Christmas shopping yesterday...... In other words, I was prepared and so incredibly excited and now here I sit. And there's an aunt. My perfect Christmas miracle is now just another heartache. I should have known better, really I should have........

And I hate how unemotional the case worker was - she's my family worker after all! I'm not asking for her to shed a tear, but maybe a "hey, I know it sucks, I know you must be disappointed." I can't ever let them know how I truly feel. I can't let them know how excited I am or how disappointed, nothing. I have to be an emotionally detached robot, just rolling with the punches. Don't crack a smile, don't shed a tear. She did wish me a Merry Christmas, after stealing all my joy like a proper Scrooge.

I haven't been able to sleep all weekend because I have been so excited. I woke up Saturday morning and it was like I was a kid again and it was Christmas morning! I couldn't wait to open my eyes! I pinched myself to be sure it all wasn't just a dream! Now, I look at the baby stuff and I cry. I was preparing the cloth diapers when I made the call and now they sit in disarray and I can't bring myself to touch them. I should keep the faith! This is just a small hiccup, right? Things could still work out in my favor (I say selfishly), right? I mean, I should still be picking him up Friday - at least I think so.... I won't know anything until Thursday, which is still another 3 days away. Surely, God would not let things go this far only to yank the baby away from me, right? He must just be working out the kinks, right? God has a good plan, I trust You God, I know You have a good plan for me and for the baby. Give me the peace to endure this trial, Lord........

Christmas Miracle

I can’t even breathe. It’s the nervous excitement that turns my cheeks red and my insides all jiggly. I got a call today. A legal risk placement for a newborn. He will be leaving the hospital on Monday, so I won’t know anything until then (oh the torture!) but it would be a perfect Christmas miracle! My miracle! After the CHOR adoption coordinator said “newborn” I almost stopped listening, I almost screamed YES! All I can think about is me holding that baby under the Christmas tree! And frantically searching for a baby’s first Christmas ornament (which I almost bought a few months ago – I kind of had a premonition that I should buy the ornament but I didn’t want to jinx myself). My fingers are jittery as I type this! There is a small hiccup. After the call, the case worker called back and asked what my plans were for daycare because he would be too young for traditional daycare. I explained that I used another foster family but that didn’t seem to placate her too much. She said she would report that to the county. Please oh please dear God, please let this happen! Let this baby be my baby! I love him already and I haven’t even seen just how perfect he is! A brand new precious baby to wake me up all hours of the night! A tiny bundle of joy – this is all I wanted under my Christmas tree! I need nothing more. I already called the other foster parent, she’s on board and excited. I notified my supervisor’s supervisor (because my boss is out of town the next two weeks) and she was on board and excited. I have a few friends praying for me and I’m praying a blue streak. So, please God, orchestrate this miracle for me! 


*** As it turns out God did hear my prayers and He answered them with a Christmas miracle! A little after I typed this up I got another call asking me if I could pick the baby up at the hospital on Monday. I said, "Of course! What time?" After a few more calls it was determined I would need to wait to call CHOR Monday morning around 9:30 am to be sure the baby would be getting released. And I will need to go through a 2 hour seat belt safety course at the hospital. I just can't believe it! I am walking on air! I cannot stop smiling! I cannot stop thinking about all I need to do before Monday. Luckily, I got everything worked out at work to take next week off to get us both settled into a routine. I went a little crazy and went shopping after work. There are so many cute little outfits! Oh, I love this little one so much already! I just can't believe how lucky I am to be getting a newborn! He is my perfect Christmas miracle! I can't wait to meet him!!!

Maybe Good News?

So, I think I got some good news Wednesday. But, it seems things are still confused with the multiple cases that have been recommended to me. Last week I read the profiles for two young sisters from Berks. The day before I had been called regarding twins from a different county. The email I was sent Wednesday was under the names of the two girls but mentioned the other county and twins. The email said the county was requesting my family profile, which I took as good news. I know that county’s collect family profiles like they are going out of style and then narrow things down,  interview a few and finally make a decision all the while potentially already having an idea of who they would choose from the get-go. It’s a rather disheartening process. I have developed a mantra in my mind, whenever I feel myself getting jealous or upset – “I trust You God. I trust You have a good plan for my life.” I must have said this a thousand times at the CHOR Christmas party Tuesday night. The family who had my last two foster kids before me were at the party with a 3 month old infant girl. Almost as soon as I saw them come in I started to bristle under “it’s-not-fair” mentality. So, I initiated my mantra, to assure myself that my time will come. The side effect is that I have now latched onto the idea of these twins – a girl and a boy – because it would be so “perfect” for me. Sometimes I make myself stop and think that the child(ren) I adopt now do not have to be the only child(ren) I adopt. I can decide, in a few years, that I would like to adopt again or perhaps I could save and adopt through a private agency to avoid the pitfalls of foster care (not that I think private adoption is without risk and heartache because I have read enough horror stories to know better than that!). But, this is how it happens. I hear about a potential placement and then I get hung up on it, imagining just how wonderful it would be for that child(ren) to move into my house and all the things we will do, all the places we will go. And before long I’m left broken hearted because I never hear anything about the child(ren) and so must assume they went somewhere else or I am told the county chose another family. But, someone has to choose me eventually, right? I mean, if I wasn’t suitable parent material I would not have passed all the pre-adoption tests, would I? I have been a good foster mother. The children in my care are always well-fed, clean, and using good manners (or at least being taught how to); they are loved and I always, always try my hardest to do what is best for them. We do a lot of things together and they are involved in my life and I am involved in their lives. They are treated as family, just as I imagine I would treat my own children. My home is clean and warm and I have plenty of age appropriate toys, books, and DVDs. And every now and again, I need to remind myself of all of that because hearing that the county has chosen a different family or never even being chosen for the interview is demoralizing. I know I have a lot to offer a child(ren) but it seems like I might be the only person to recognize the potential. I shouldn’t say that because the woman who wrote my family profile gave me a glowing report and the friends she spoke to reiterated what a lovely mother I would be should I ever be so lucky to be given the opportunity. My home has been empty for nearly 3 months now and I have grown accustomed to having a lot of time to myself. I’ve kept busy with a writing class and dating (I despise this word nearly as much as I despise the word “boyfriend.”). I’ve taken two bus trips to New York City and spent most Saturday’s out of the house doing something. Most days I am content with the life I have right now. But, other times I long for what I feel is missing. I don’t let myself dwell on it, like I have in the past, but I’m still pretty bummed that life didn’t quite turn out how I would have liked it to. It was not in my plan to be 32 and separated, dating, and childless. I wonder if anyone’s life really turns out just as they had imagined? I would hazard to guess not, but sometimes it seems like everyone else is getting just what they want while my hands remain empty. I’m sure I’ve said this before, but I’m thinking this could be the last holiday season I spend without my child(ren). And this might sound crazy, but I think I’m more excited about not being childless than I am about the prospect of being a “we” again.

 

Since I brought it up I might as well share my epiphany regarding Montana. I had mentioned before that there is something bugging me that I cannot quite identify. I think I know what is it – attraction. That is the missing spark – there seems to be a lack of chemistry. I talked in depth about this with my roommate from college who came to visit over the weekend. She recommended I cut my losses and move on. But, I don’t think I’m quite ready to do that just yet. There are a whole lotta things that I like about Montana – he is very kind and sweet, he’s a gentleman, a Christian, cares about his family, he’s attentive, he supports the whole foster-to-adopt thing, he’s a farm boy, and he loves to travel. All very attractive traits. And, as another friend suggested, sometimes it takes time for the spark/attraction to develop. I conceded to her recommendation that I give it some time, if for no other reason than I was so hurt and I am still healing. Unfortunately, I have already began pulling away, closing up shop, if you will. And unfortunately, he sensed that and has gotten a little clingy. We have both been busy this week and have not had time to see one another. Last night we went dancing with my friend from work and her husband. A local hotel holds Latin Dance nights on Thursdays and she’s been inviting me to go but I couldn’t because I had my writing class Thursday nights. So, last night we went. There was a communication issue when I attempted to invite Montana – he basically thought I was asking for permission to go which pissed me off to no end. I’m a grown ass woman, I don’t need to ask anyone’s permission to go out with my friends! I chalked it up to misreading a text message and have tried to forget about the whole thing. We had a nice time, but Montana was getting over a cold and I know he felt out of place – a PA Dutchy amongst all the lovely Latinos. I guess the only reason I fit in is because of my time in Nicaragua and from being married to Flaco. I bumped into a blast from the past and we danced one salsa dance. I danced with Montana once too and spent the rest of the time on the dance floor with my friend and her friends. It was nice. Montana made mention of me being so busy this week and not texting a lot. Enter huge sigh. We text daily and I’m good about getting at least one text out per day, but sometimes that’s all I can manage. I text a lot but I don’t want to get to the point where my phone is like my right hand and it’s all I can do – an addiction. So, this is the clingy part that is starting to get under my skin. And it’s kinda contradictory. I asked him how he wanted me to introduce him last night (this was the first time either one us has met friends of the other) and he suggested as a “friend” or as a “special friend.” Ok, well I only say “special friend” in quotations when I’m being sarcastic, so that’s out. And, here’s the thing with “friend” – I don’t tend to make out with my friends (some of you are heaving a huge sigh of relief right now!), so it seems like it’s not very descriptive of our situation. I know I have documented how much I loathe the term “boyfriend” but what else do you call the person you see on a regular basis and kiss and hold hands? So, yes it is strange that he doesn’t consider us boyfriend/girlfriend yet he wants to be sure I have enough time to text him every day……  He thinks we need to have a discussion about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing. I guess to him that term carries more weight than it does for me. I’m rather flippant about the word “boyfriend” and would use it to describe anyone I was having semi-romantic interactions with on a semi-regular basis. I don’t relish having this conversation because I highly doubt I will be able to take it as seriously as he does. I will most likely be blunt to the point I am harsh – look, either we are or we are not and if are not, then maybe it is time to move on. I’m finding this whole thing is starting to work on my nerves. It’s almost like, as much as I miss the tenderness and intimacy of a romantic relationship, I am not willing to put up with all the politics of dating to get to that point.

 

So, to summarize, it seems like things are moving ahead but they might just be stagnant – both motherhood and romantic relationship. It’s odd because I’m so good at finding the greatest friends, people who are genuine, kind, loyal, and caring. Truly, I have some of the greatest friendships a gal could ask for! Yet, when it comes to romantic relationships I suck at making a good match. Why is this? Maybe, instead of looking for a romantic relationship I should look for a new friend….. I’ll just go back to my mantra now and pray for the best…….

 

 

Dispassionate Confusion

You know when there is something that is so incredibly important to you that you imagine (sometimes falsely) that it is equally important to everyone else? And it's so crushing when you find out the thing that occupies nearly every waking thought and many, many dreams is simply a nonissue to everyone else. Well, this is how I have been feeling lately. While at work last Wednesday, I got a call from CHOR but could not answer my phone. The message stated there was a potential legal risk placement, so I called right back and mass confusion ensued. First, the person who had just left the message for me thought I was someone else and she began talking about what my agency needed. I was so confused but soon she realized her mistake. Then, after she told me about the potential legal risk case (17 month old twins, boy and girl – how perfect!) and I said yes, I asked her about the two other cases I’m waiting to hear about. Two different sets of sisters. She thought I was not interested. She thought I told her both sets were too old. I thought I had told her I was interested in both, even though one set was older than I would have liked I said their picture was too cute to say no. She had heard about the younger set of sisters but had not called me because she thought I said I was not interested. She had their profile but didn’t think there was time for me to come in and read it because the county was getting ready to start making their decision and she was going to be busy the rest of the week. Eventually, she did find someone to sit with me while I read the profile last Thursday afternoon. But, all I could think about during this conversation was that I missed out on the chance of getting a placement because someone was confused (or over-worked) and had not clarified their confusion. I have had this little niggling worry in the back of my mind that I was being forgotten and now my worst fear seems to be confirmed. I’m just lost in the shuffle. And we are not talking about tiddlywinks here, we are talking about a very important event – becoming a mother by adopting a baby! This isn’t like, oh I misplaced the hat you let me borrow or I lost your favorite CD, it’s much, much bigger than that. And yet, it seems that it’s being handled as if it were a run-of-the mill kind of situation. I’m being over-critical, I know. I’m projecting my feelings of frustration into this whole scenario. But, it does make me wonder if I ever will get to adopt, since things are not being as aggressively pursued as I would like them to be. So, as you might expect, I am not holding out much hope for any of the above mentioned placements. And I’ve said that in the past yet still filed the idea away into a hopeful section of my brain. Now, I’m fairly dispassionate about the whole thing. I want to be positive, but I think in order to not lose my mind, I just decide not to think too much about any placement in particular because then I start to imagine how it will be to meet them and before I know it my heart is breaking. It’s hard not to picture the children from the placement call or email in my home. Almost immediately, my mind begins working and my imagination takes over and before long I’ve watched them grow and leave home, all in one fantastic daydream. But, too soon the vision fades and hope is lost as no news is forthcoming and a new placement supersedes the old. I am reminded again and again - adoption is not for the faint of heart!

 

The profile I read last Thursday was again one of great sadness at what such young children must endure and how it is seemingly impossible for people to break the cycle of poverty and poor parenting. There were some issues but nothing that seemed too much for me to handle. The placement is through Berks County, so I’m fairly certain I will not be chosen for the interview process. I don’t know how long BCCYS holds a grudge, but I’m fairly certain my name is still on “the list” and will be immediately dismissed. Maybe that’s just the pessimist in me talking. I noticed the other set of sisters have been added to the SWAN website and they too are from Berks. I am still contemplating contacting the adoption coordinator to tell her I would consider adopting them and at least get a chance to read their profile. But, I haven’t totally decided on that yet, because the youngest is at the age of my highest limit and the older girl is older than that. I will pray about it. The greatest hope I have is for the twins because they are from a different county, although there is the potential for a kinship situation to develop – which is scary. I do think it would be simply perfect to have a girl and a boy (a son and a daughter – you know I never say that, not even to myself) and they are still so young one would hope they have not had to endure as much as the older children. I don’t let myself think about how perfect it would be to have them moved with me before Christmas. I have very little hope that this Christmas will be any different from any other past Christmas’ – childless.

 

You see, last year the Grinch stole Christmas. I was miserable and I just wanted the holidays to be over with as little fanfare as possible. In reality, I love the holiday season and I love fanfare as well. So, I was uncharacteristically Scrooge-like last year. This year, I think I’ve tried to make up for my previous miserly mindset by going all out Christmas. I started outside. Never have I ever hung Christmas lights until a few weeks ago. And then I nearly died while hanging one strand of icicle lights along the front of my house. First, I tried the step stool but I couldn’t reach the spouting from under the eaves of the porch. So, then I got the ladder I have in my basement but realized I would need to lean it against something, since it does not stand on it’s on. This led to a perilous balancing act as I climbed atop the precariously perched ladder then leaned back to strap on the little plastic clip holding the lights. Quite a feat! I survived this ordeal and moved on the putting up some garland around the door and on the railing. Once this was accomplished it was off to find a Christmas tree. My eyes got a little misty picking out a tree all by myself, but I focused on trying to find a small tree. Small tree. I need a small tree for my small house. The problem is I love the BIG FAT trees, the fatter the better. I found a nice tree, had it loaded in the trunk of my car and even managed to lug it into the house and plop it on the tree stand all by myself! Christmas decorating is awful hard work! I did at one point consider giving up and not decorating again because it was taking me forever and I was getting frustrated with how difficult it was to do alone. But, instead I powered through it.  I found a lot of forgotten decorations in the basement and proceeded to drench the house in Christmas garb – candles, Santas, stockings, a table cloth and table runner, even hot pads and tea towels! The next night I decorated the tree only after discovering that the half of both of the two strands of lights for the tree don’t work. I just made sure those areas were in the back of the tree – the big, fat tree that takes up half of my living room! I had to move my couch and two end tables until they were almost blocking the front door to make room for the tree and half of it is still shoved into my bookshelf. Who cares? I like it and since I’m the only one seeing it, that’s all that matters. That same night in the snow, I rigged up some more lights in a box in front of the house (it looks kinda country) and I added the last touch of red bows with fresh greens. The best part? When I open my front door I am greeted with the delirious fragrance of my Christmas tree! So take that Mr. Grinch!

 

In other unrelated news, Montana came over Friday night two weeks ago after I invited him on a whim. It was a cold and rainy night. He had mentioned something earlier in the day via text that the weather made it a good day to watch a movie and cuddle on the couch. So that is what I invited him to do. It was nice and simple. We watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding.  He had never seen it, I love it, and we didn’t feel like running to the Red Box to find something new. Since it was a short movie, we turned on the TV and watched some shows on HGTV while chatting and holding hands. It’s strange to be back at that stage again, but it’s good to move slow. At least I know he is very respectful and certainly not pushy. I just hope he’s not too vanilla. But, I suppose that’s just the fear creeping in again. I guess I just worry that the one thing Flaco was always good at, this new relationship won’t be able to deliver. I’m putting the cart before the horse and comparing apples to oranges, I suppose. I don’t want to be a Debbie Downer. I wish I could just let go and jump into this with abandon, but I think those carefree days are well behind me. At every step I feel myself holding back, just a little something, a little kernel of myself. I have relationship PTSD – I think every noise is the end raining down upon me again. I fear every eyebrow raise is a decision to walk out, every contradicting opinion is a step towards dissolution, that every good bye is forever. Wednesday night we went out to see Christmas lights and then came home to my house for homemade cocoa (my mom’s family’s recipe). We talked for a little while and then kissed for a little while. And there is still something that keeps bugging me. Something I cannot put my finger on. I guess it is fear. I’m having a hard time keeping Flaco out of things in my mind – I hate to call it comparing, but I guess that’s what it is. I never really had any other relationship other than Flaco and I know I can’t expect things to be the same, but there is something missing. I tried to explain to a friend that when we were kissing there was no spark, no tingle. For all the time I was with Flaco there was always a spark, that special little feeling when our lips met. I keep telling myself it just takes time and that eventually it will develop, but I worry. I hate the awkwardness of meeting someone new and doing that stupid courting dance. I like things to feel comfortable between us, but we are not there yet. My friend admonished me to move slow and I think that I am and I am not trying to move things along, it’s just something is bugging me and I just can’t shake that feeling. I keep praying for complete healing in this area because I have come too far to give up at this point. When I start to worry or second guess things, I just tell myself that slow and steady wins the race – it’s good to move slowly. What I really need to do is stop thinking, or stop thinking so critically. Why must life be so complicated? Why must I be suspicious of someone who is kind and has a lot of the same values and interests as me yet pine for what could have been with someone who never really loved me and could callously walk away from me like I am nothing? I’m afraid I will screw things up and end up alone the rest of my life. I was so willing to compromise for Flaco and now I find I am rigid in my demands for perfection – how did this happen? When did this happen? I know why it happened – he left. My friend says she would rather be with someone who is kind and wants to be with her than to be with someone where there are sparks. I said, why can’t you have both? I think I settled too quickly the first time around and I am not so willing to do that a second time. Isn’t it true that the only things certain in life are death and taxes? There is no such thing as a sure thing, so I just need to let it be what it will be. One step at a time…..   

 

Sick Thanksgiving

I guess it was a good thing I didn’t have a new placement just before Thanksgiving because I was really sick. I spent nearly all Thanksgiving day in bed and paid the price when I forced myself to go to dinner at my aunt and uncles house. I slept from 6:30 pm until 9 am the next day. I felt better Black Friday but to play it safe, I stayed home and read a book in my pjs all day. Not really what I wanted to do on my long weekend vacation, but you’ll have this now won’t you? I keep hoping that the volume of calls I got last December for potential placements would be the same this December, but still my phone remains maddeningly quiet. I think I have fairly given up on getting a placement before Christmas and expect to be waiting well into the new year. With the paltry placements I have been presented, I think my wait could be extended for many months to come. In my feverish dreams, I saw tiny baby’s and, like a twisted Roesch blot, I saw the form of an infant sucking it’s thumb in a shadow during the pastor’s sermon at church on Sunday. It’s safe to say I have baby on the brain. If only these images would morph into a real baby and end my tiresome wait. There are two placements of sisters I am waiting to hear about still but I guess after a few weeks with no updates I give up hope and resume my laborious wait for my baby.

 

So, I have been kind of seeing someone. I know this blog is about infertility and chasing my dream to become a mom and not about my love life (or lack thereof), but I also use this blog as a sounding board for myself, so here goes. We met through match.com. He was in Montana at the time (so let’s call him Montana) working on harvesting fields of wheat, but he was originally from PA, not too far from where I live. We began talking via the match.com website, then exchanged email addresses and finally phone numbers to text. We talked on a near daily basis the entire month of August, September, and October. He had originally planned to come home the end of September, but he stayed to help his cousins (he was living with them) in their business since one of their workers got hurt. He came home in the middle of November and we went out twice – once to Panera just to talk and once for dinner. He is polite, kind and thoughtful and we always have a nice time when we go out, but there’s something I can’t put my finger on, that bugs me. And I worry that it is me. Flaco has been gone, long gone, and good riddance – most days. I wouldn’t take him back no matter what he promised because finally having distance from him I can see him for who and what he is – a narcissistic, self-centered, over-sexed asshole. I loved him, wholly and freely and with total disregard of other’s opinions of him. Falling in love with Flaco was easy and fast. Now, nothing seems to be easy. Montana is very careful to never mention the future and he never makes any promises of what “we” can do, he plays it safe at every turn. To be fair, he was hurt too. He was never married, but he was engaged and he moved to Ohio to be with her. He worked for her father and even stayed on for over a year after they broke up – that is until her father hired the new boyfriend. He had bought a house in Ohio which he finally sold, after having renters, while he was in Montana. Maybe I just don’t know how to date. I never really did it. It’s not like Flaco and I ever went out to dinner and a movie in Nicaragua. And I didn’t date in high school or college either – I just never found anyone who was interested. I guess the thing I can’t put my finger on is fear. I’m afraid I will get hurt. Just like the adage about getting back on a horse after getting bucked off or you will never ride again – once bitten twice shy. Just like waiting to adopt, I need to be patient and let this thing unfold into whatever it will be. I will say, that Montana is the nicest guy and least creepy guy I’ve met from a dating website. I guess I just wish he wasn’t as hurt as I am, so that at least one of us could be coming at this thing whole. But, I guess at our age, that isn’t likely. Part of me wishes we could just fast forward past all this awkward getting to know you stuff, to the part where our relationship is comfortable, like a good pair of jeans that are broken in to fit perfectly, rather than the starchy new ones that don’t want to bend to the curves of your body. We’re starchy. And I get the sense that, hurt or not, he moves cautiously, whereas I charge ahead like the proverbial bull in a China shop. So, we will hopefully be going out again on Wednesday and see where this goes. He doesn’t yet consider us boyfriend and girlfriend. It’s like trying on a pair of shoes you like a half dozen times before deciding to buy them. I don’t think he’s decided he’s buying anything yet. Here’s an example – the day after I was sick he text me and said that he thought about sending me flowers but didn’t know if I would like them or if it was too early for that…. And, another example, when he told me he would be alone for Thanksgiving because his parents were going to a wedding in Missouri and would be flying out on Thanksgiving day, I said my parents always had a standing invitation for any friends of mine that would like to join our family to celebrate. He declined, saying it was too soon. Sure, meeting family on a holiday when everyone is there and in rare form, could be daunting, but we are all pretty inclusionary so to us it makes sense. Me personally, I would rather be with someone than alone during the holidays. But, his 16 year old brother stayed home with him, so he wasn’t totally alone (and I realize here that I should mention he does live at home with his parents but in a part of the house that has been converted into an apartment and he is the eldest of 7, his youngest sister is only 13 years old!). He offered to help me put my Christmas tree up and I think I will take him up on this offer because I have never done it by myself. I thought about not getting a tree again this year, since I’m the only one living in the house, but I really want to be in better spirits this year and I just love love love love love the smell of a Christmas tree in the house. Plus, despite cramping an already cramped space, it is cheery to have a tree all decorated and lit up. I’ll put some garland and lights outside too and have a merry little Christmas. I can’t live in the shadow of what happened forever, it’s time to shake off the hurt and pain and just jump back into life. I can’t live my life waiting for something good to happen, I have to make the most of every day I’m given and find the happiness in small things and joy in simplicity. So, bring me some figgy pudding and a white Christmas!