We were ready, and we were motivated. We were gonna knock this paperwork out in the first month, and surely have our birthmother letter together in that time, as well. Sure, the FBI fingerprinting was backed up--they were saying it was taking 12 weeks on average--but by the time that was done, we should be good to go. On the books and waiting by April, we figured. We could hardly wait!
We wondered if we'd have a baby by May, and how that would impact our trip to the Bahamas for Amber's sister's wedding. How long does it take to get an infant a passport, anyhow?! Another couple excitedly talked about having their baby over the summer, so they'd have time to set up the nursery and be on maternity leave before school started in the fall. We figured if we didn't have a baby before summer, we'd for sure be celebrating our baby's first Christmas this year!
That would be last Christmas, for those of you keeping track. The one that just passed. The one where we didn't have a child. Just so we're all on the same page.
I'm not bitter. Good things come to those who wait, right? It's just funny to think back now on what we were thinking a year ago.
We had no idea.
We had no idea that writing our birthmother letter was going to be a multi-month process of combing through pictures, and writing and re-writing, and re-writing again. It's hard to put yourselves, your whole life, and everything you believe you can offer a child as parents into 950 words and 12 pictures. It's even harder when you realize those four color glossy pages are all a woman has to go by when she's sorting through a box of brochures from the agency, or skimming through 11 pages of search results on a website.
We can only be ourselves, and that's all we want to be. But, will this picture or that sentence be the one that sorts us into the 'yes', 'no', or 'maybe' pile for that special person who's looking for parents for her child? Each word you write, each picture you select, you imagine that scenario all over again.
They tell us in our weekend seminar at the agency that oftentimes it is just one little thing--a feeling, a connection--that leads a woman to choose a family for her child. One woman told the agency she picked her child's parents because they had a picture of a chicken on their letter. She really liked chickens, and that's what stood out to her. Now, I'm sure the decision was a lot more complex than that. She got to know them, they fit together, and everything just felt right. But the fact remains, their decision to put a chicken on the letter is what put them in the running.
Stories like that make you paranoid. What will it be for us? Not chickens, certainly, because their beady little eyes freak me out, and when I worked in a petting zoo, I had to clean chicken coops and it was DIS-GUST-ING. But still, the parable lingers, and it adds a weight to every decision you make. So, needless to say, it didn't take a month. It took many months to complete our birthmother letter. And don't even get me started on the part where we had to choose the graphics, colors, and design. I still have a twitch in my left eye because of it, I'm pretty sure.
We had no idea.
We had no idea how long we'd agonize over the home study paperwork. We each had to write narratives about our lives, our childhoods, our relationship, and our philosophies on parenting. Nobody besides the social worker was likely to ever see them. But they would give her the basis to write our home study, the document that tells the state we are fit to be parents. So--good students that we are--we took it quite seriously. We thought long and hard about what we thought, and how to say it. It was actually a good experience. It's probably one that everyone who's considering parenting--adoptive or biological--should go through. It gave us the opportunity to truly sit down, think, and really discuss the life we want our child to have, the values and knowledge we hope to instill in him or her, and how we will go about parenting. After that, the physical exams, drug tests, 911 call reports, fingerprinting, rabies vaccinations (for the dogs, not us), home visits from the social worker, and installing a cart-load of childproofing supplies from Home Depot were a snap.
When we finally finished all of our pre-adoption paperwork, our birthmother letter, our website, and our iheartadoption profile, we breathed a giant collective sigh of relief. "Phew!..That's over!," we thought. We patted ourselves on the backs for surviving a hectic and stressful six months. We congratulated ourselves for being such a strong and loving couple, for supporting one another through the difficult stints, remembering to laugh, and always growing stronger together. And then the waiting started.
We had no idea.
We had no idea what the waiting would really be like. We were prepared for it to take awhile. We were prepared to go for a long time without a single contact. We had already discovered that our 1-800 number was very similar to one for MetLife, so we were prepared to continue to get calls that weren't really for us.
"It's a lot like dating." That's what they told us in the weekend seminar at the agency. Neither Amber nor I dated much. We found each other, we putzed around like idiots for a few months as we tried to navigate the awkward beginnings of a relationship, and then we just fit. And thirteen years later, here we are. So, we figured that's what this would be like. Eventually someone would contact us, we'd get to know each other, we'd decide this felt right to all involved, and a few months later, she'd place her child in our loving arms. End of story. Happily ever after, and all that.
But that's not what happened. Instead, we were on some sort of speed dating train that had jumped the tracks. Perhaps they should have been more specific in the seminar. "It's a lot like the kind of dating you see in a crazy romantic comedy". That's what they should tell folks, if anyone wants my opinion.
Less than a week after we went on the books, we got a call. A real call. We weren't prepared for that. But we took it as it came. And then we got another. And then an email. Two emails. Another call. In the first two months we were 'on the books' we were contacted by five different women considering us as parents for her child.
It was exciting and terrifying in a way I can't quite explain. It was both exhilarating and stressful. We were all adoption, all the time. Eating, sleeping, and accomplishing anything substantial at work or at home were things of the past. Our friends and family stood expectantly by, congratulating us on our good fortune. Other waiting couples, who had yet to receive a contact, joked that ours was not such a bad problem to have. And it wasn't. It was gratifying to know that women were finding us, and they were considering us as parents for their child. We tentatively allowed ourselves to hope that this process would go even faster than we had originally hoped. We didn't want to jinx ourselves, but we were starting to feel like perhaps we were "good" at this adoption thing, whatever that means.
But, as time after time, emails weren't returned, conversations went dead, or we learned that someone we were talking to had chosen another family, we began to feel quite a bit less sure of ourselves. Were we going to be always the bridesmaid, never the bride? Was our birthmother letter too good? Did the 'real life' us pale in comparison to the 4 page color glossy brochure of us? Was I too shy and awkward? Was Amber too chatty and quick to fill the silence in phone conversations? Did we say something wrong? Do something wrong? Not say something right? What if it went on and on like this, contact after contact, with nobody ever picking us?
And all of this was before a very damaged young woman scammed the pants off of us for nearly two months. But let's not speak of that little blip in our adoption journey. Ever. Again. Mmkay? Great.
We had no idea.
We had no idea we'd come through all the craziness that happened in the first six months of waiting, and find a balanced life on the other side. Things have slowed down considerably since the beginning. We have had quite a lull over the holidays, in truth. And yes, there has been an inkling of 'Omigod....what if we NEVER get another call?!' in our minds. But I think it is a good thing. It is the time we need to rejuvenate ourselves. It allows us to catch up on life, to focus on something other than adoption. To remember that this is a process, and it may be a long one. And we can't put our lives on hold until it's over, because we don't know how long that will be. We're once again enjoying romantic dinners out, and relaxing evenings in. We're trying to travel (damn you, Snowpacalypse 2011...), spend time with friends, and enjoy the little things that won't be so easy once we are a family of three.
And maybe--right this minute--as you sit here reading this blog, somewhere else our future child's mother sits there looking at our website, opening our birthmother brochure, or picking up the phone to dial our number.
We have no idea.
x's&o's,
Michelle
