I'm Told it's Ok to be Happy...

We met our birth parents today. We liked them and they liked us (*phew*) so it was deemed a success. We're going to get together again on Monday at a park by them so we can meet the baby and some of their immediate family members. I can NOT wait to meet this little dude. I'd like to say that I'll be graceful and respectful. But I'll probably dissolve into tears over love for the baby and grief for the birth family. I better stock up on stoic pills that morning.

 We were told by our agency's social worker at the end of the meeting that we really have no reason to expect another disappointment. I'm trying very hard to hang onto those words. I'd love to be more excited and less nervous. Luckily, placement is going to be soon. Our social worker thinks it'll be early next week, definitely by Wednesday. And they're probably going to sign in NJ which means we can simply go home after placement. That would be divine! Dang you interstate compact bureaucracy bologna.

I'm so totally in love with my house full of boys. Boys are just the best.

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I'm trying to enjoy all the almost-baby giddiness. I really am. It's still hard. At least I'll have one less thing to worry about soon. Friday is my last day of work. I love my company. I love my work friends and my employee discount. I'm highly tempted to bust out the credit card and grab this mushroom I've been eying for a year before my discount goes away. Stupid ridiculously overpriced completely useless but covetable mushroom pouf.

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But I digress. I'm going to miss my job and more importantly, I'm going to miss working - bringing home some bacon for the family - contributing. I know raising two kids is no small feat, but it's not the same as providing. I'm sure I'll be singing a different tune come Memorial Day when our town's pool opens up. Hello beach and hello pool. Muahahahaha...

So, that's where we stand. Hopefully Neil and I can sneak away this weekend to watch the Hunger Games (nerds!) before it's all baby all the time.
Keep your fingers crossed for us. We're not out of the woods yet... but we're getting close. I can almost smell baby head from here.

Stuck in Maybe-Baby Limbo is the Pits

Here we go again. We got a call on Thursday from our dear social worker. There was a birth mother and birth father with a three month old that were looking to make an adoption plan and did we want to be considered for it. It turns out, we were the only people in our program to agree to be shown to her, due to the nature of her medical background (more on my feelings towards this later). She's taking the weekend and Monday to decide with her family and the birth father that placing with us is the right thing to do. So we could have a possible placement on Wednesday. Holy balls! We were just starting to get over the last disappointment and now this.

I have coined this period of waiting to see if a baby comes home with us "maybe-baby." And you know what? Maybe-baby is really starting to take a toll on me. I can't take much more. If this situation doesn't work out, I'm going to need a few weeks without any baby drama.

This baby comes as a major surprise to us. We've only been shown to African American or biracial birth mothers to this point. We've been preparing for over a year now to be a trans racial family. This particular baby happens to be Caucasian and we were knocked off kilter a little by it. It's weird for two white people to have to prepare for a white baby. But that's what we're doing. More on this later, as well.

We haven't told many people about this situation. But I feel like to stay true to the process, I needed to comment on it here. I created this blog to help others in the same situation. And to help myself get through this excruciating Wait period. So dear friends, this could be the first post marking my descent into madness. Haha... ok, that's a little dramatic. But who knows, at this rate, a few more weeks here and there of maybe-baby could have me going bonkers for sure.

I also need to add that I am fully aware that no amount of anxiety I am feeling can come close to matching what the birth mother is feeling. I can't imagine the pain she is going through. My heart is with her (even though we haven't met yet) during this agonizing time and I hope that our profile is comforting to her. If I could speak to her right now, I'd like to tell her that if she decides to place, we will love and honor her forever as one of our own and she will be with us always as we raise this baby she has entrusted to us. He will always know who she is and how much she loves him. That's how we roll.

So peace and godspeed to her and her decision. We're here, ready and willing.
Wish us luck and hopefully we'll have a joyful update later this week.

Starting over isn't so bad

Since the baby was born and the father decided to parent, things haven't been too bad around these parts. We were busy with incredibly warm beach days, grown up get-a-ways and little W's third birthday. All of which have been excellent distractions.
Wednesday night we scrambled to throw together a last minute weekend getaway. We gave the boy and the dogs to my parents and we took off to the Finger Lakes in upstate New York. We went there for a short weekend about four or five years ago and we fell instantly in love with the area. We're just two soggy winos at heart and it was calling me back. Loudly.
This was a very healing trip. Our hotel was warm and luxurious (by our standards), our suite was about the size of our home (ha!), the porch was cathartic and the jacuzzi literally healed my (broken) bones.

View from our hotel porch

On Saturday, we hired a chauffeur to take us around for the day to all the wineries on Seneca Lake.  We got soggy and stupid by 5:00pm. And we bought a LOT of wine. Like, a serious lot. That's all I can really recant from that experience.

This is me after about eleventy billion glasses of wine. Mmm... wine

Sunday was a quick trip to Kauka Lake for a visit to a few vineyards before the long trip down to pick W up at my parents. And what trip to wine country would be complete without stopping at super classy Bully Hill?
The ancient memory of twenty three year old Lindsay that lives deep in my head, somewhere was reveling in all their cheap-wine-splendor. Once upon a time, many a night was spent with a bottle of Bully Hill in the crook of my arm. And of course I had to get a few bottles of Sweet Walter. Because, well, that's my Little W! And by late Sunday morning, we were really jonesing for our own sweet Walter.

Bully Hill: Giving Young Lindsay headaches since the year 2000

By the time it was all said and done, we sloshed back down the highway with over three cases of wine of varying colors, flavors and fancy winey words we don't care to understand (seriously... you can't tell me the tannins of your table wine matter as you're downing Wegman's brand spaghetti in your sweatpants on a Tuesday).

Monday was our sweet W's third birthday. How that happened, I'll never know. He's been begging to go to the Franklin Institute to see the traveling dinosaur exhibit for weeks. So we took him there for his birthday. And it scared him to death. Like, little hands plastered over closed eyes the whole time, scared. I have to admit that the exhibit was pretty spooky. Lots of mood lighting and creepy noises gave it an eerie feeling.
So we showed him the rest of the FI, which he loved as much as I remember loving it as a kid. After a long walk down to Reading Terminal Market for his favorite food in the world (Amish pretzel dogs) and back, he decided that "the dinos weren't too scary and I'd like to try it again," which yielded the same, petrified results. Oh well. At least the kid tried. It was a good birthday, for sure. His favorite restaurant sang to him and he was up on an ice cream and present high until 10:15pm.

Now we're all home and our souls have been recharged and we're ready to jump back in and redo our home study and profile book et cetera et cetera. I can not wait to get The (next) Call. I'm so ready for W's little brother or sister. I'm not sobbing myself to sleep at night over this disruption, but I'm not 100% ok, either. I'm in a weird, emotional limbo place and I'm not sure how to express what I'm feeling. "It is what it is" is really the best way to describe it.  I'd like to take some time and try to write through my feelings some more, but I'm not quite there yet, from an organizational stand point. I'll get there.

What I can take away from this experience right now is that I am an incredibly fortunate girl. I may have the most amazing husband in the world and my son is just the sweetest thing on two legs. What else can a girl ask for?

Catharsis

Thank you, Global Warming for providing me with an unseasonably warm, tshirt/shorts/flip flops kind of day. It did wonders for what ailed me.
In the morning, W and I ran to our adoption agency to drop off checks for the updated home study (um hello salt in the wound!?) then we tossed a blanket, some fishies and juice boxes in my trusty old LL back pack and high tailed it down to the beach. I laid on the blanket and watched the waves roll in and W drove his trucks-du-jour through a maze of old tire tracks. We hunted for shells, dipped our toes in the frigid Atlantic and barrel rolled down the sandy dune hill (broken ribs and all). It was the definition of catharsis. The salt air helped to heal my wounds. I just wish Neil could have been there, too. But then again, someone needs to bring home the bacon.
My doctor, himself couldn't have prescribed anything better. I still smell like a mix of salt and SPF 50, and my hair's wonderfully unsalvageable.

 I'm almost ready to go to work tomorrow and field the endless barrage of questions. GAH.

Ok, now I'm ready.

The best part about today is knowing that as awesome as it was, it's not going to be able to hold a candle to what we just planned for this weekend. Stay frosty, friends <insert some kind of winky emoticon here>.

Back to the drawing board

Well that wasn't totally unexpected.
D had the baby on Friday and didn't tell anyone. Her social worker had to track her down yesterday. From what I could gather, the birth father decided he wanted to parent in a very erratic manner and wouldn't let her contact her social worker(?). That's just what I could gather from a short phone call yesterday. We'll hopefully learn more today. The baby's set to be discharged today and we don't know to whom yet (definitely not us, though).
While I'm not throwing myself on the floor and wailing in despair, I'm pretty torn up about it all. That little person would have had everything he ever wanted with us. I'm trying not to judge the birth father too much, but it's just the facts that this kid's life is going to follow a grossly different trajectory now. And my heart breaks for him. Not for us... but for him.

That's really all I have to say about it right now. This kid's life is screwed and it doesn't need to be. The birth father is being selfish and stupid.Maybe I'll feel some sorrow for us as the healing process wears on, but right now, our feelings are the least of my concerns. I just can't believe that some low life can slink in and destroy this kid's life because he has biological bonds to him. It's just not fair. Ok, so maybe I'm judging him a little. But whatever. The wounds are fresh and still bleeding. I'm allowed a few snap judgements.

Complete Freak-Out Mode

 I've been trying to write this post for two weeks but it keeps coming out with lots of OMGs and insanely long run on sentences because my inner dialog is on overdrive.
Baby's due date is fast approaching and I'm kind of in a freak-out tailspin.I have a very real feeling that D, our birth mother is going to change her mind once the baby is born. So while I'm trying to mentally prepare myself to be a functioning mother to two small children and reveling in some of the things that all moms enjoy (sitting quietly in the baby's room and smelling all the clean, tiny clothes), I'm also preparing for insane amounts of heart crushing sadness. It's a very strange mix of feelings. And I can't forget about my little man, W. How do you properly prepare a three year old for a baby brother when you're worrying that you may have to explain why brother never came home.
So lets see... what's eating me?
Baby's due date was recently changed from the 17th to the 26th of this month. Holy longest week of my life. We have a feeling D's not going to make it all the way until the 26th, so we've pretty much packed our bags and are ready to scram at a moment's notice.
I'm still feeling like there's a good possibility that she's going to change her mind once baby is born. But I'm trying to not dwell on that too much. HA!! Yeah, right.

Last Tuesday, everything boiled over when I slipped down my landing again and thought I broke a rib. I spent most of the day in the ER getting xrays etc. Nothing was broken but you wouldn't know it by how it feels. That was enough to send my emotions over the tipping point.  No kitchen, possibly no baby, banged up ribs... I turned into a screaming, sobbing mess. My husband suffered the brunt of it and my dear best friend had to listen to me rant and rave like a lunatic on the phone for an hour. If there is a heaven, there's a special place reserved for both of them.

My some good news is that my counter tops are currently en route to my house and they'll be installed by dinner. Hopefully my banged up ribs don't prohibit me from getting the sink hooked back up. Before and after pictures will be posted once everything's painted and the back splash is up.

Tomorrow's my birthday (holy big 33) so I get to pick dinner. What choices! March 6th, the day of my birth, begins our super awesome birthday extravaganza month. W's is March 19th, new baby's is some time at the end of the month and Neil's caps things off nicely on April 7th. It's a fun time in our house. Although W's totally getting the shaft on his birthday this year. We were going to have a big dinosaur themed party for him at a local museum but with all the baby stuff going on, it's just feasible. Luckily he's three and won't realize he's getting the shaft. Poor kid.

So that's things in a nutshell. I'm going insane during this waiting period and there's no relief in sight.