The High Wire

They say as you proceed down the adoption track, it can feel like an emotional rollercoaster. I would say that’s true. From moment to moment, my emotions run amok. One moment I am excited about being an “employed” mother again, the next I feel guilty that I want to have children other than Jordan, and then I swing over to worrying I won’t love an adopted child as much as I loved Jordan, then I swish back to being so impatient for a baby I want to throw things.  You wouldn’t know it to look at me. But everyday, I get up on that high wire and try to stay balanced, be productive, make “to-do” lists, remember future appointments and obligations (that one is a tough one), and, ultimately, stay on course to our goal.

The positive is our Home Study is complete and we can officially adopt if we have the opportunity. However, now, we are in the marketing stage: collecting pictures, writing the “Dear Expectant Mother” letter, and trying to present ourselves in an honest, yet cheerful way. It reminds me of a scene from How to Lose a Guy in 10 days— “Yes, we’ve had two miscarriages, but we’re still positive and upbeat about the future. And yes, we lost our son. Yeah, we are terribly sad, but…surprisingly resilient and, you know…upbeat!”

Part of the problem is that I have a bit of an attitude. The match agency sent us a list of required photos and descriptive paragraphs they need written. My first reaction was to, metaphorically, stomp my foot and complain about the restrictions. We needed to take couple shots with our heads close together and without glasses and hats?  How contrived! We need staged action shots?  How inauthentic! We must only submit photos from the last year, maybe two? How can we possibly show our lives without delving into the recesses of our history? We have thousands of photos from our trips and life together over the last eleven years, why take more?

As often happens, I was brought to reason by my husband. Suck it up, Buttercup, he said (in a much more kind and round about way). I took a deep breath and acknowledged he was right. This is what we needed to do. It was not all about me. The birth parents needed to get a sense of our life, so they could choose who to give their child to. When I thought about it that way, the pictures seems pretty important.  So, I’ve reoriented. I’ve written our letters and descriptions. and culled through our photos. We even planned to take a few action shots, and my sister is coming over to help photograph us as a couple. This is what we need to do. We have to keep taking one small step after another, trying to keep our balance as we walk to the other platform across the crevasse. It’s not that far away, right?

Now, it's a little scary, but mostly upbeat.