One of my colleagues yesterday says to me, "So, what are you up to these days? Working and waiting?"
"Yep. Working and waiting. That's about it," I reply. "And we've put up a new website for ourselves. One that basically says, 'Hey, we're really nice people. If you know of anyone who is in the position of needing to adopt out a child...look-y here.'"
She looks at me with great empathy (both of her children are adopted so she knows about the working and waiting and waiting and working.)
I end the conversation with what I usually say to end these types of conversations, "It'll happen when it happens."
When I first started blogging about adoption, so many of my posts explored topics like whether or not I'd be a good mom, fear, transracial adoption, the relationships that we'll have (or not have) with the child's first/birth family, the rightness or wrongess of adoption, etc. In re-reading some of those posts recently it hit me that I have covered a lot of ground in writing and thinking about all of this adoption stuff.
And then it hit me that as we've gotten further and further into the waiting and wondering phase that I kind of stopped blogging.
Guess I'm feeling kind of done thinking about all of this.
I'm less interested in thinking and I'm more interested in doing.
I know that there are more issues that I could explore in regards to adoption - and to our particular adoption. However, the more I just think about stuff, the more I find myself feeling a bit blue. The waiting seems kind of endless when I'm blogging and wondering and wondering and blogging. So, I'm focusing on doing...
Doing my best to be a good wife, daughter and friend.
Doing my job.
Doing my best to get rid of this stupid upper respiratory thing that I've had for two weeks.
Doing my best to enjoy Christmas and get ready for our annual New Year's Eve Eve game night.
Doing my best not to whine or complain about how long we've been waiting, but instead to be happy, to be in the present moment and to enjoy this one life hat I have to live.
It'll happen when it happens, right?
Jennifer, I just discovered this blog. I haven't caught up reading all your posts, just started out. My heart is aching for you. I've been there. I know that empty darkness and the desperation that sometimes smacks you in the face. I plan to read up on more of your story here over time. It doesn't matter to you right now, I know, but one day all of this will be worth it. I don't even expect you to believe it completely at this point, but I'm speaking from experience. My daughter is 9 1/2 years old, and my son turned 4 over the weekend. Both adopted, and I wouldn't change a thing. The pain of before makes me all the more grateful for what I have now. Keep slogging through this. You'll get there.
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