If you don't know what "Sophie" means, maybe I'll let you in on the secret sometime.)
We attended our first Adoptive Couples Education Workshop this evening. By the time the two+ hours had passed, my brain was ready to explode. But it was good. The topics for tonight included (but were not limited to) presentations and discussion about open vs. closed adoption, adoption tax credit, and gift ideas for birth mothers. Both our heads were buzzing when we left the BYU Law School tonight. I think all the cute scrapbooking stuff at the end is what finally did Rob in. (Okay, and me too.)
I didn't make it to Social Security today for my replacement card. I was feeling too raunchy today for an errand I knew could wait till tomorrow. I'm guessing it's perfectly normal to feel as if I'd been hit by a truck, under the circumstances. On our way home and after an emergency stop for a hospital cheeseburger with fries, Rob swung by Smith's and bought me an adoption-sized bottle of pot pourri-flavored chewable sidewalk chalk tablets to kill my rot gut. It's helping a little, but I may be up a while yet, waiting for some "Peace, be still" to happen.
By the way, did you know the law says you may only ask Social Security for three replacements per year, and ten total your entire life? Even though I've gone for many years with the same card, learning there was a limit sent me into a small panic. Suddenly I'm thinking of scenarios that might make it necessary for me to repeatedly order replacements and reach the dreaded quota. What then? Would I be assigned a new identity or simply exiled?
Neurotic Question of the Day: What if the child(ren) we adopt can't stand us? I mean, we are from Planet 10. That makes us high-risk parents.
And since I think I missed asking my Neurotic Question of the Day yesterday, here's the most basic one I can think of: Will anybody choose us?
You don't have to answer those. I just need to get them out of my system, one by one. If they get too personal, I might have to go underground.
Inspiration of the Day: It's time to start praying for the protection of our kid-to-be, whether in or out of the oven already. It's also time to pray for the birth mom.
Haps Du Jour:
- Clean sheets and pillowcases
- Loving messages from people I adore
- Being treated to another mini-concert by our neighbor the rockstar
- Birds of my neighborhood
- Listening to The New Pornographers on Lala (you'd better get your fill of Lala by the end of the month, y'all)
- Cooking my first Pad Thai
- Inventing a new sweets recipe in honor of a new friend—I call them "Blueberry Hackworths," and they're a cross between fruit snacks and Turkish Delight. They didn't set up in time for delivery this afternoon, but might by tomorrow. They need time to breathe.
- Looking at proofs with Mum and Justin and talking about beautiful Haitians
- Getting the hang of the budgeting program
- Jeans getting loose, even if it means having to make alterations
- Becca's bright color wall—better than a lava lamp! better than Consuelo's door-to-door chicken tamales!
- Clean sheets and pillowcases (oh yeah, those—time to sleep)
8 comments:
Okay, the neurotic question of liking/not liking completely twanged my heartstrings because here was one of *my* neurotic worries when I was waiting for my boy. "What if I don't like the way he or she smells?" And that sounds really crazy, but my nose is particular, and one fantasizes as a prospective parent about burying one's nose in a tiny bird's nest of hair or the nape of a chubby neck. And, of course, he's lovely in every way, even now as he's getting to be so boy boy and growing up, but I sure worried about it a lot.
I am thinking good thoughts for you all, and I really do think when you meet him or her your hearts and theirs will say, "oh! There you are . . "
That "Will somebody choose us" is an unavoidable question, and an unpleasant one. I think it's one of the biggest leaps of faith to continue with that hope. Keep the faith!!
I cried for weeks of our first round of adoption classes--some good tears, some hard tears. Hugs to you!
Oh, and I'm with Mary on your hearts meeting. That's the biggest miracle of all.
My SIL, an amazing artist, got thrown by the cute scrapbook thing, too, as would I. It's scary to take a gamble, but maybe some birth mom is looking for a unique family with a unique letterpress scrapbook w/ some poems written by potential parents in it, and will thereby make you the perfect match. I know I would feel that way if I were looking for adoptive parents for my baby.
Just a thought from afar--I'm sure that book is anxiety provoking to the max.
Thoughts and prayers to you birth mom.
xo
lara
My husband and I once considered adoption, so I can relate to being overwhelmed with what's involved in the process.
Praying for you and your future blessing. ((hugs))
Mary, that doesn't sound crazy to me at all. But then I also have a superhuman sense of smell, and am easily attracted/repulsed by smells. I think I'll add that to my checklist of Neurotic Questions! Thanks! ; ) And except for the terrified part of me, I mostly anticipate that "Oh! There you are!" feeling you described. It was the feeling I got with Rob when we first began exploring the possibility of a relationship. It was absolute recognition. I just knew. It was a real gift. I hope for that again, for however many times we may need it.
Wendy, the thing about that question is that it's a constant in life, in one form or another. It's not a new worry, just really focused and specific right now. But I keep working to get rid of that whole family of fears. More than ever in my life I understand that fear is the enemy. As for tears—I'm already a wellspring of those. Nothing new there. : ) I like to think I am well-irrigated.
Lara, that's an excellent idea about the poems. I hadn't gotten that far yet in my thinking, so thank you for nudging me along that creative path. It's pretty much a given that whatever we do is going to involve some letterpress, for good or ill. We don't have all this heavy metal sittin' around for nothin'.
Sweets, I'm grateful for your empathy and prayers.
Love to all of you, and thanks!
Here's what's weird. Would it be worse to give birth to a child that doesn't like you because you're from another (some other, any other) planet?
sophie, sophie, sophie... i love the wall.
Suzanne, or maybe worse still, you adopt a beautiful alien baby and then one day a spaceship lands in your backyard and the birth parents have come to reclaim their little green angel. And they're packing ray guns.
Anna, I know! I love knowing that name underlies the latest paint job.
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