I have had many occasions to fret over making a good first impression, and many opportunities to work my shy-old-self into a big ball of stress about whether I'd be able to let that "inner me" out to shine, or whether I'd end up sitting in the corner, staring at the floor, unable to come up with any of that elusive "small talk" stuff that seems to come so easily to other people.
I've never in my life been as nervous for something as I was for our match meeting. Amber is the type of person who relishes human interaction. (Weird, right?! I know!!) She loves meeting people, is great in social settings, and will usually get your entire life story out of you in the first five minutes of meeting, before you even realize what has happened. Truth be told though: Amber was just as nervous as I was.
I've been thinking hard ever since the meeting, trying to come up with a good parallel event that would allow me to explain to all of you who haven't been to a match meeting, or aren't on this adoption journey, exactly what the anticipation felt like. I can't. It's a thing unto itself.
The closest thing I could come up with was going away to college for the first time. I moved across the country to go to college. I had picked an amazing college that I was sure was going to change my life (it did), and I was so so excited to be finally grown up, and on this journey to becoming who I am. But I was also pretty terrified. I knew in the back of my head that this move from childhood to college was momentous. I knew that for the rest of my life, things would be marked as "before" and "after" this particular point. I tend to overthink and overanalyze (Shocking, no?) and get caught up in "moments" and "milestones" and what it all means. So, I was hopeful for this new vision of my adult life, excited about this awesome future that I was foreseeing, but also anxious and scared of the off-chance that things wouldn't work out the way I had envisioned, or that I would somehow screw it up.
That's pretty much how I felt going into the match meeting. Well, like that, and also kinda like I had the flu.
We flew in the afternoon before the meeting. We were nervous that our "travel jinx" would rear her ugly head, and screw us mightily in some unforeseen way. So, we planned for plenty of extra time in getting to the meeting. If all else failed, we actually had enough time to drive and still get there in time. But, despite all odds, everything went smoothly, we got there on time, and had almost 24 hours to spare before the meeting.
Twenty-four gut wrenchingly stressful hours, that is.
We had nothing to do but try not to think about it. Which of course, just makes you think about it more. We sat in the room and watched the Food Network until we couldn't take it anymore (Who knew so much programming could revolve around bacon?). Then we decided we needed to actually try to eat, rather than just living vicariously through the people on TV. We also decided, begrudgingly, that we should try again to look at the handout on match meeting questions we'd received months ago in a support group meeting. We'd already looked at it once before, but we spun out with panic after being unable to come to any sort of definite answers on anything.
So, we headed to Longhorn for bloody steak (me), piles of veggies (Amber), and a much needed drink (both of us). And we once again failed miserably at answering the questions. Like broken records, all we could come up with was "Gah....I don't know....whatever she wants!" The questions were really specific regarding things that will or won't occur at the hospital, and what role Amber and I will play during that time. Then there were equally specific questions about what will happen, you know, for the rest of the child's life. No biggie. The kid is the size of an eggplant right now, mind you. But yeah, let's totally sit down and map out exactly how many pictures, letters, visits, and phone calls will occur, and when they'll happen. In fact, why don't I just get my Blackberry out, and we can go ahead and get some dates on the calendar. Eye. Roll.
Now, I get it. It's very important for us all to sit down together, and get an idea of what each other is picturing for the future. It's equally important to check in, and make sure nobody has expectations that are much different than what the other was planning or hoping for. And, it's nice to just have a general idea of what will probably happen next.
I guess it's because Amber and I are so flexible and so open to whatever in this process, that the details became overwhelming. Sure, we could come up with answers to these questions, if we were the only ones involved. X number of pictures, Y number of letters, to be sent every Z days/weeks/months. But, what matters most to us is truly what Kelsey is comfortable with. We are strongly committed to giving her all the contact and support she wants and needs. But we are equally committed to not giving her more than she desires or can handle. This isn't an easy process for birth parents, and we are ever mindful of that. So, pouring over those questions, we tried to put ourselves in her shoes, tried to imagine what she might want or need, and tried to think about the best ways we could give that to her. But coming up with hard and fast numbers was still impossible.
After dinner we killed time with a movie (Bridesmaids...the bridal shop scene is NOT for the weak-stomached, btw), and then went back to the hotel, languished pathetically on the king sized bed, and watched "COPS" and "Inside American Jail" (two of my favorite guilty pleasure shows) on truTV until we passed out.
The next morning, we pretended to eat breakfast, actually drank coffee, and watched the minutes tick by slowly on the clock.
Finally around noon, we realized we had to start getting ready, and needed to make some sort of effort to put nutrients other than caffeine (shut up, caffeine IS a nutrient, I'm nearly sure of it) in our bodies. Like zombies, we showered, dressed, and did our hair. Then we walked around SuperTarget for a half hour, trying to find something we could swallow without vomiting. We spent most of that time wandering around the bakery, looking for some sort of cookies or cupcakes to bring to share. Then we realized neither of us were planning on eating them, so it was going to be awkward-bordering-on-rude to force pastry eating upon others who were likely just as nervous as we were. So we got my belly-comforting staple, bananas, and a pack of six Luna bars. I ended up eating one banana. Amber ate nothing. Lunch FAIL.
The drive to the meeting was surreal. We walked in, and were greeted by the social worker. I stood there silently, staring in disbelief at Amber, who was somehow already halfway into a ten minute conversation with the social worker about the weather, where she was from, how she liked the office, the nice hospital across the street, and how we were liking our hotel accommodations. My girl has mad chit-chat skillz. It's kind of a superpower, really.
Then the social worker said "Well, they're here already, in the conference room. I'll take you back and introduce you". My heart skipped a beat.
We walked into a glass-walled conference room, and there they were, sitting at a small table. Kelsey turned around and looked at us with giant deep brown eyes, and smiled. It was a smile of nervousness, a smile of excitement, and a smile of "omg this is really happening". It's a smile I'll never forget. She looked exactly how I felt.
I also had this weird bit of being what I can only describe as starstruck. I am easily starstruck, not necessarily by super famous people, but by people who are somewhat famous, but who I totally admire and respect from afar, and have on occasion been in close quarters with. Amy Ray. Jane Goodall. Congressman John Lewis.
That's how I felt when we first met Kelsey and Aaron. I had this overwhelming feeling of "OMG, it's THEM!!" We've gotten to know Kelsey a good deal online. We didn't really know Aaron, besides what Kelsey had told us. We've seen so many pictures of both of them though, that it was entirely bizarre to finally be standing in the same room.
Amber totally and immediately set to work on the ice breaking. [If Amber ever for some reason becomes a professional wrestler and/or minor super hero and/or rap star, I hereby propose the name "The Ice Pick" as a moniker]. And then we got into the nitty-gritty of question answering.
In the end--shocking I'm sure to nobody but me--it wasn't nearly as bad as I had anticipated. In fact, it was great, really. Turns out, Kelsey felt pretty much the same way about the questions as we did. She already knew that she didn't yet know exactly what she wanted at the hospital and beyond. We got the chance to tell her we were open to whatever she wanted, and that we'd work with whatever she was comfortable with. I felt good about getting that out there, and I think she felt good about hearing it. We got a chance to get to know Aaron a little more, which was awesome. We even got a chance to just laugh and talk a little like regular people, as opposed to "birth parents" and "adoptive parents". It was really nice.
Kelsey and Aaron are both such wonderful people, and sitting down and getting to know them just felt so right. For all the nerves, the worrying, and the panic ahead of time, once we got going it felt quite comfortable, natural, and normal. The agency tells prospective adoptive couples time and time again, "When you find 'your match', it just feels right." This truth is further echoed by the many couples who have already adopted and say over and over that they can't explain it, but when they finally met their child's birth parents, they just "knew". Sitting here days later, I can't explain it either, but I can tell you that it feels like we just "fit together" in a good way.
We have been excited about becoming parents for so long now. Ever since February, when the agency called to tell us Kelsey wanted to match with us, that excitement has become all the more real. And now, after having met Kelsey and Aaron in person, the excitement has shifted again. We are no longer just excited to have "a baby", we are now even more excited, thrilled, and honored to hopefully become parents to this baby. If his or her birth parents are any sign--and I suspect they are--this baby will undoubtedly be one amazing kid.
x's&o's,
Michelle
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| On the plane, heading to our match meeting. |
