You know that old saying, “Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it?” Well, I had wished for respite placements to keep me busy while I wait for my baby to come and I’m getting just what I had wished for in spades. I had a very nice 16 year old girl the first weekend and had a wonderful time with her and was sad to see her go. This past weekend I had a young adult and we had a nice time but she was a little more sullen and we didn’t quite click the way I did with the first girl. Now, I am getting a pre-teen and her 4 year old sister for the weekend. I really don’t mind getting all these respite cases for the weekend, it’s certainly nice to have someone to pass the time with (although I have been very busy the past two weekends with outings and what not), but I just wish I were getting calls about placements. To date (and it has only been two weeks) I have gotten one email about a toddler that I wouldn’t be able to take due to medical and behavioral complications. I didn’t expect my phone to be ringing off the hook, but I was hoping for a little something here and there. Although, getting calls can mean just as much anguish as not getting calls – if I get a call and the placement doesn’t pan out I am incredibly disappointed. I got very excited today when I got the respite call because I was away from my desk at work so they called my cell and I thought it was “the” call. It wasn’t. My friend who is a foster-to-adopt parent said the agency gets a lot of calls when the weather turns cooler because that is when they find a lot of kids living without heat and other necessities. It hasn’t gotten very cold yet, no frost, so perhaps when it does get cold I will start getting calls. Before I fell asleep last night I had this thought that it might take a long time for my baby to come and I just felt deep down that I should be prepared to be waiting for a long time. When I was driving home with the girl I had this past weekend I mentioned wanting to adopt to answer a question she had asked me. She told me, “I see a baby coming to you. I do, I see a baby coming your way.” I took her words as prophetic – it must become true! My heart and my mind has latched onto getting an infant, a tiny little bundle of joy – I want so badly for that to be true that I almost feel I can make it happen by sheer willpower. I know that sounds crazy. It is crazy. I am crazy. I caught myself talking to myself in the shower the other night. Just some random flow of consciousness conversation. When I realized what I was doing I got mad at myself. I don’t want to be *that* person who lives alone so they talk to themselves for something to do. But, I fear one of the side effects of this journey I have been on for so long is that I am so wrapped up in my own world that I forget other people and other things.
Here is an example: I was supposed to go visit a friend for an annual get-together she usually hosts with her husband around Thanksgiving. They are expecting their second child so they held it earlier this year, in October. I had every intention of going….. Ok, I wanted to go but the more I thought about the last time I went when she was pregnant and how I barely held back my tears and cried most of the way home, I kind of didn’t want to go through that again. I think subconsciously I put it out of my mind or purposefully sabotaged the date in my mind. The shindig was this past weekend, but I thought it was this coming weekend. I’m a terrible friend. I let my own shit get in the way of celebrating their happiness. It took them longer than they expected to have this second baby and they endured a loss in between – this pregnancy is their little miracle. They are good people and wonderful parents and deserve every joy they desire. But, I’m just stupid little me sticking my head in the sand because they have two and I still have none. It’s pretty pathetic, when we take out our heart and truly examine it and find that it is wanting. The hole in my heart that started out a tiny tear has torn bigger and bigger until it has shredded my heart to the point I fear there is nothing left to give. Like Gollum, I clutch the idea of my baby to my heart and cry out, “My precious!” desperately loving the very thing that is killing me. How do I make it stop? I can’t. I won’t. Not until I have “it” again – my precious…… I’m being overly dramatic. But, I do tend to get wrapped up in me and forget about other things. And despite it happening so many, many times in the past 4 ½ years, I still get all stupid and withdrawn around pregnant women. I don’t want to be that way, but I just don’t trust myself to not start sobbing as they rub their swollen tummy’s and glow the glow of motherhood. Why must I act this way? I should be over this by now, right?! I mean, come on, it’s been how long? And, since I’m not having sex with anyone, it would be downright impossible for me to be pregnant anyway…. Yesterday a woman at work had her first child – a boy they named Julian. I smiled and gushed appropriately on the outside and then when no one was watching I took a deep breath to fight back the tears of my own bitter disappointment. I used to keep track of how many babies were born while I was trying to get pregnant. I guess I just liked to torture myself with such stupid trivia. I lost count after 25 (this includes acquaintances and people that have had more than one baby in the time it has taken me to get just one). I have been trying to become a mother for 1757 days, that’s 4 years and 9 months, 251 weeks (enough time for 6 back-to-back 40 week pregnancies). And there is no end in sight….. I mean, yes I am approved to adopt all by myself but does that mean I will be able to adopt all by myself? I spend too much time thinking about a baby and dreaming about a baby and seeing tiny babies all around me and my heart just weeps. How do I get out of my own imprisoned world? How do I get over myself and get over all these stupid hang-ups and just GET OVER IT? How do I accept the life I have instead of mourn the life I wanted?
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