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.

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.

Limbo

We met our birth mother, D on Friday and it was a really nice experience. Her baby sitter fell through and she had to bring her two youngest children with her. So we decided to meet at a McDonalds with a playground instead of the original restaurant. I don't want this to come out the wrong way. Because to say it out loud sounds like I was "window shopping"... but her two young children were absolutely gorgeous. I couldn't help but make the correlation, staring into that little boy's eyes, that I might be staring at the same eyes our son will soon have. D was struggling with some personal problems, so our conversation didn't get as deep as I had hoped. But we still had a really lovely time. She asked us a few questions. But I wanted her to ask so much more! I was prepared to tell her so many things. But mostly she told us about her story. Which was both enlightening and heart breaking. I wanted to hug her and tell her I loved her (because I do. The moment this woman chose us to parent her baby, I was instantly and irreversibly in love with her) and I couldn't wait to get to know her better and share this precious little life with her. We gave her a picture of our family and she let us look at her ultrasounds, which was very special to me.

From speaking with our social worker, it sounds like she felt equally good about us. She was very comfortable with us and really seemed to love our family. I'm very grateful that our first meeting went so well and we have mutual respect for each other. But it brings me no closer to feeling like we'll definitely have a baby in 25 days. Because despite her apparent conviction that this adoption is going through, once she gives birth, and that warm little body is in her arms, anything could happen. And I'm VERY aware of that. So I'm still full of anxiety and worry and probably will be until those magic 72 hours are up.

Another problem I really wasn't anticipating has arisen, as well. I really didn't think I'd feel a connection with or love for this baby before he was born. Partially as a defense mechanism and partially because that's just my personality. But meeting her and seeing her children and seeing those ultrasounds has changed things. I'm in love with this child. And I feel VERY invested in and protective of his well being. So if D decides to parent this child, while I won't hate her for her decision, I will mourn the life he could have had with us. I'll forever wonder if he's had enough to eat that day, or if he got a christmas present or if he did well in school.
So that'll be the stuff rattling around in my head for the next few weeks.

On a happier and less stressful note, this past Friday was opening night of the musical and it was a wonderful distraction from all the baby stuff going on. It was a blast and I look forward to doing it again this coming weekend. I'll definitely be sad when it's over. We also got our new cabinets/sink last weekend. They're just what I wanted and I can't wait to get everything back to normal. We won't have our counter tops for two more weeks, so that means that much longer without running water. Yikes! Living without a kitchen sink is HARD! Silver lining is that we have a stove and when it's all said and done, we'll have a super sexy dishwasher, as well. I'm a quiver with anticipation.

One Thing at a Time

Move over, darling husband and adorable son. I have a new love in my life. And his name is Mucinex. DayQuil (my former lover) can suck it. I forget important things like blinking and stopping at traffic lights when flying high on the big orange Q. But Mucinex? Oh that stuff is delightful.
Little W was out of commission for a week with a fever and ridiculous cough. It was breaking my heart to see him so sick. You think he'd return the empathy to me now that I'm on my death bed? Noooooo way. Kids are heartless that way. One more day of nonstop cartoons won't kill him, I suppose.
It's two weeks until opening night of the musical, so I'll likely see no empathy from my rehearsal schedule, either.
No rest for the weary.

In cheerier news, the baby stuff is coming along nicely. He has a dresser and it's chock full of clothes. I borrowed 20 gallons of newborn-3 month clothes from a friend this weekend, which was a lifesaver. So we're set. The diapers and linens are washed and in the drawer, the clothes are washed and organized by type and size (crazy much?) and the emergency gotta-run baby hotel stay bag is packed.

We still haven't gotten word when we're meeting D&A, the birth parents. Which is causing more than a little shpilkes and agita. But I'm going to remain in my zen frame of mind. If this baby is meant to be ours, he will come home with us. And if not, then we'll mourn the loss and move on. Because our little person will still be out there and we'll be ready for him or her. See? Don't I seem peaceful and content with the situation? I'm remaining peaceful, dangit!! Peaceful!

If I even begin to think about the work scheduled to be done in the kitchen next week (then the week after that we'll be without a countertop) or the musical's opening night in two weeks, my whole peaceful bubble is going to pop. One.Thing.At.A.Time. And now W's hand-me-down monster cold on top of everything is the mucousy icing on the cake. Thanks, little man.

Today will be full of tissues, hot tea, cartoons for W, packing up the kitchen for the eminent work being done, OTC deliciousness, and trying to make myself presentable enough to get changed in front of my cast mates for our first rehearsal in costumes. But first, I think I'm going to curl up in the fetal position on the couch for a few hours.

I think I Preferred the Other Wait More

We've had four days to get use to the idea that a baby will be here in about forty four days. We're getting all his furniture together and have a small stock pile of necessities in case he comes early. We're set. I basically ran around the baby section of Target squealing for 25 minutes. Then I can across the preemie clothes section and I held a tiny onesie up to W and remembered how he use to swim in it and so started the waterworks. In the middle of the store. Super classy...

I wouldn't be so stressed if I didn't have the musical hanging over my head. Oh yeah, and we're having work done on our kitchen in two weeks. It'll only take a week, but it's just one more thing adding onto the pile of stress. Getting this done before the baby comes home is imperative because our hundred year old plaster wall is crumbling apart and we don't have a dishwasher. Seeing as this kid is going to be 100% bottle fed, a dish washer is a necessary upgrade. Yeah, we don't currently have a dishwasher. Our house is insanely old and the kitchen is all original. It's very quaint and charming, but it's 2012 and momma needs a dishwasher.

Then, on top of all of this stress is the Big Worry. Is the birth mom going to change her mind? What if, when we meet she doesn't jive with us and she decides to parent or have someone in her family adopt the baby instead? I'm plagued with worry. We have this kid's furniture. We have a name for him. What if he doesn't come home with us?

What if he doesn't come home with us? I have fortysome days to obsess over this. Grand...

One Ringy Dingy

Well hot diggity... We got The Call.
The woman who was checking out our profile last week chose us. We're over the moon excited about this turn of events. So much so, I'll be recapping the last 36 hours in bullet form.

- I was at work when I got the call. I ran over to my boss because I had to tell her before I could get on the phone and make enough noise out of my mouth hole to tell Neil the news.I toyed with the idea of breaking the news to him in a big reveal type style. But that's not really how we roll. So I picked up the horn and told him point black.

-We ran right over to our agency's office and jammed a cheeseburger (bribery of choice this week) in front of Lil' W to keep him content while we signed all the paperwork. We read all about D, the birth mother and learned all about her. I took an immediate liking to her. I can't WAIT to meet her! We also learned that I will be completely and utterly outnumbered as the only female (human) inhabitant of out house for quite some time. It's another awesome little boy for us!

- I swear I'm not lying when I say I felt an instant connection with this woman's story. From the moment we were asked if we wanted to be shown to her, I knew this was our situation.. I don't believe in signs, but I do believe in feelings and I just had a feeling - deep in my spine. This was the first situation that we were informed of that I really got my hopes up for. And lookie how it turned out!

- We went public with this information pretty much right away.We partially fear (as I'm sure everyone does at this stage in the game) that she'll change her mind and we'll have to un-tell everyone. But you know what? So What?!?! We were robbed of so many happy big announcement moments with W's scary birth. So we're reveling in the good and hoping for the best. If she does change her mind, we'll be supportive and happy for her and her beautiful baby boy. And yes, I'll un-tell all the people I told with my head held high.

- Baby Boy 2.0 is due mid-March (approx 47 days away, if you're counting) so we're in zomgscramble mode now. Yes, I said ZOMG. Deal.

- This weekend will be a whirling dervish of Home Depot and Ikea and Target and Babies R Us. And I'm loving every second of it. If I could run up and down the street screaming at the top of my lungs, I would. In fact, I'm surprised how cool and collected I've been on the outside. The inside is a mess of nerves and emotions and I need to drink more wine to settle things down. *gulp*

I'm sure I'll be back with more complex feelings and ideas and really deep thoughts a little later, but right now, this best explains how I feel:

A Call, not The Call might be the hardest part

We got A Call yesterday. Our social worker from our agency wanted to present us to someone but our profiles didn't quite match. So she had to run it by us before giving the ok to show our profile. This has happened several times to us and each time brings a unique rush of emotions. I've done a really good job of not getting excited for any of them. But there's something about this one that's really sticking with me. Something about the birth mother's story grabbed my heart. And the birth father is still around, so to speak. So the baby could have a chance to know both of his/her first parents. And the most silly reason this situation resonates with me is because the baby is due in March. All of our birthdays fall in a five week March to April span in this house and we call it our birthday season. It's like having a month long birthday party and we love it. It's just a silly tradition but I can't help but take it as a sign.

I'm not expecting to be chosen by this birth mother. The odds are generally not in our favor. But I can't help going against better judgment in hoping she does. There's just something about this situation that latched onto my heart. It's the first one I will be truly sad about not being matched with. We're being presented this morning, so my fingers are crossed.

Knowing that we're being presented to birth mothers makes The Wait so much harder. We're always being shown to "someone." Last month for instance, we were shown to three birth mothers. And that's awesome. But KNOWING that someone is looking at us causes so much more stress.

So off I go on my day, trying hard to not look like a frazzled Cathy Comic frame. And trying unsuccessfully to not think about adding another super awesome birthday to our nonstop birthday extravaganza month.

Avoidance is no Longer Acceptable

We bit the bullet over the past few days and finally painted the baby's room. It was very hard for me, for some reason. I've yet to figure out why. I guess because it forces me to acknowledge that no one has deemed us right to raise their babies. Every month we're shown to several people and no one picks us. I know we're awesome, so it's hard for me to accept.
The bedroom is striped and adorable. It's going to come together fast, now. We're using W's old crib and area rug. So I just need to find a few pieces of furniture. We're attempting to go used on this kid's room. There's SO much lovely stuff out there on craigslist and in consignment shops. But shall those intentions fail, we'll be loading the wagon up with Ikea for sure. Either way, I'm really going to enjoy putting a proper nursery together. We didn't get to do that with W. We moved into our house two weeks before he was born and I was too sick or spending too much time at the NICU to get it together. So it was all just an after thought. This process is very cathartic for me. Getting started was the hard part. Now I'm a roll that can't be stopped.

Racism in America from a Completely Different Point of View

Today is a day set aside to celebrate Martin Luther King's legacy and it really has me thinking this year. Baby #2 is going to be African American or biracial so I've been stewing over things I don't have to think about as much with W. I mean, of course we'd teach both of our kids about Dr King and his dream that one day, people would be judged by the content of their character and not the color of their skin. But I'm wondering how it will make them feel, and if those feelings will be different for each child. Will #2 worry about being judged by the color of their skin? And if so, will I, as a mother be able empathize properly with them?
I know when I think of the Jim Crowe laws and segregation and how recently they were present, I feel sick and ashamed that one human collective could treat another so terribly.

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 But how will it make #2 feel? Will I ever be able to truly empathize with them? Identify with their feeling? And how do I protect them from racism that still exists today (seriously people, it's 2012)? If  I can't shield them from it, I have to prepare them for it and give them the tools to rise about it with grace. Will I, as a white person be able to adequately do this? Sometimes I fear that I take too much for granted or block out too much hate with my rose colored glasses.
Can I teach #2 to simply ignore racism? I don't think so. Sometimes it's prevalence knocks me off my feet. Just the other day, we were outside talking with an older man from the neighborhood and he was telling us a story about a family that happened to be biracial and he called the children "lil' creamies." We both gasped and rolled our eyes at him, but he just went right on with the story like it was nothing.  The truth is, there is no protecting #2 from most situations because it's completely omnipresent.

I mean seriously... how insulting is this?!?

All we can do as parents is help our babies to learn that  it's the content of your character that matters, and not the color of your skin. And if they run into someone who sees color as a reason to think less of you or make fun of you, they're... well, they're big dummies and should be stamped as evolutionary throw-backs (ok, so maybe that's just adding to the problem a little). I think I better take a hard look at the path I plan to take as the parent in a multi racial family.

It's not my job to change the minds of people who see color first and judge based on stupid stereotypes. It is my job to make sure my children understand that some people think this way, and that it's not right. Do I teach them to ignore it, raise their chins and rise above? Or is that too passive? Is it ok for my children to just turn their cheek to someone saying racist things? I think it is. As long as they know that it is always safe to bring those hurtful things to me so we can discuss what they mean and why someone might say them.

What do you think? I need a little sage advice on this topic. I tend to obsess about things out of my control.
If anyone is reading this... throw your two cents my way.

Distractions from The Wait

Just like any expectant mom, I find comfort in painstakingly nitpicking over every detail of baby#2's bedroom. When our little bundle of joy arrives, everything has to be Just Right so s/he can gracefully grow into the next Obama, Jobs, Einstein, Whitman or poet laureate. You know... be all they can be. Maybe their nursery has something to do with that? Probably not. But if it gives us expectant moms some control over such an uncontrollable time, lets us go with it.
This is especially true for expectant moms by way of open adoption. We are completely out of control when it comes to any family-related time line. We can't take vitamins or eat the right things or go to the doctor to see the heartbeat or feel the kicks and punches. That part kind of sucks (and that is coming from someone who threw up every time I brushed my teeth for the duration of my pregnancy). What we waiting adoptive moms have is the nursery. And so it must be perfect. Lets not even talk about nesting. I am living proof that nesting has little to do with actual pregnancy. But I guess that's a post for another time. If I start talking about cleaning insane things, I very well may have to follow through and jolt up to my attic to color code all of the boxes of W's old baby clothes. So I'll save that for another time.
Here's a few things I've been eyeballing on the interwebs for baby#2:

I recently picked up these inspiring Tibetan prayer flags from Ruka, a lovely shop in Philly.

I think they're wonderful because they're colorful and playful for baby as well as peaceful and inspiring for mom and dad.


At a local book fair I recently picked up some old books for a few cents full of amazing images. I fully plan on framing and adorning #2's walls with some of the more memorable illustrations. I so wish I remembered Gordon's Giveaway Gibson from my childhood. It  is chock full of early Sesame Street awesomeness (although I see on Amazon that a copy is selling for $88... maybe I should rethink cutting it apart!).

 Little W's current favorite book is Caps for Sale by Esphyr Slobodkina. The images in this book are just so lovely and endearing. Plus... It was Little W's idea to include them in #2's room. So how could I say no?

 And finally, in this house, no child's room would be complete without some of Anthropologie's Pinwale Alphabet letters.

They're just so very sweet. And I need to utilize my employee discount while I still can. February (marking the end of my time in the professional world) is fast approaching. But what letters to buy? If only my crystal ball could tell me if we are having a boy or a girl. I guess that's something I'll have to put off until #2 is safely home with us.


So three cheers for distractions. They're wonderful for passing time and forgetting about the painstaking Wait. In fact, while I was writing this very post, I received an email from our social worker saying we were passed over by quite a few birth mothers last month.

The Wait continues...


Photos courtesy of Amazon and Anthropologie