Why are you adopting?

This a normal question, I think. Some people ask it hesistantly, as if it's a taboo question. For us, it is fine. Adoption is not for everyone, so it's natural that some might be curious. Now, if I were inclined to equivilate all aspects of adoption with pregnancy, I might see where the hesistation comes in. It probably would not be acceptable to ask a newly announced pregnant couple: "Why are you pregnant?" But, throughout this process, I've learned that they really are two different ball games. Sure, they're both hard, exhausting, trying, exciting, emotional roller coasters, etc., but there are big differences.

After Abrehet's death, we asked this question--why are we doing this to ourselves? Willingly going through all the WAITING, all the UNCERTAINLY, lack of control, etc. Losing this baby made us stop and reflect on the reasons we're doing this and consider the question of "why us?" as most do after a tragedy.

Simply put: we are adopting because we must. We desperately want to and feel like since not everyone has this intense desire, that means we must. For our home study we had to answer this question more in depth, and yes, certain influences drew us to adoption (especially our awesome nephew E). Bottom line, though, is that we know it's the way we are supposed to start our family.

This brings me to #2--the "why us" part of suffering. Obviously there are no answers. But here's a thought that has brought us some peace. If we had not been lucky enough to get Abrehet's referral, someone else would've. Maybe, just maybe, that person/couple had already endured hardships in the way of infertility and/or miscarriages. With all of that, maybe her death would've been too much for her/them. Well, we haven't experienced that other kind of pain. For us, her death was awful and almost too much to bear, but we did it (are doing it). She was supposed to be ours, and we got to love her from afar, and then mourn her from afar. And we're okay with that, and are able to keep going.

Our adoption story continues. Both good and frustrating things are happening, but we're still in this long waiting game...I wonder if I'll miss the waiting once it's all over? Hard to fathom at this point.

Weeping is cast for the night...

But Joy (or something related to it) comes in the morning.

Day #12 and Courts Open

Today courts open. We waited for this day for what seemed like forever, and then all of sudden, we didn't have to wait for that anymore.

I know other adoptive families are so excited for this day. Today stuff starts moving again, and the wait can at least seem like it's progressing. That really means something in the World o' Waiting in adoption. Am I bitter that I can't celebrate this day? Maybe a little. Maybe more. It doesn't seem fair that after all we've been through, we now are knocked back even on the waits.

People keep asking us, "Now what?" In anguish and fear we wondered for a little bit (less than a day) if adoption is meant for us. It's not easy for anyone, and we knew that starting out. But our story has not just been hard, it's involved severe disappointment and now tragedy and heartbreak. This is not normal. And yet...we will keep waiting. We began the adoption process because we honestly believe that we can provide a home to an orphan. That part hasn't changed. Now we will wait for referral #3. We really don't want to be at this part of the wait, but who does?

I remind myself that court opening means that orphans can become part of new families, and that certainly is a good thing. We will not be one of those families--yet--that gets to finish what they started. But we will.

In a related/un-related thought--isn't it strange/narcissitic how when you are really going through something heart-wrenching that all art/music/lit seems directly related to your situation? I know John Mayer is probaby singing about a lover, but these stanzas seem written just for me.

"When you're dreaming with a broken heart
Then waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?
No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone..."
________

I debated a while about blogging about my grief (should it be personal?), and have decided that it is okay.

Day #9 and Dickenson

Today is Day #9. It is better than Day #8, which was better than Day #7. I expect Day #10 or Day #11 might not follow this promising pattern since it will be the weekend. School has been a good thing. My students still make me smile and laugh. And it's easier to forget while we're working. I don't want to forget her, but not thinking about her means I can breathe and function and make the minutes go by faster.

I know there are healthier poets to read, but for now I'm stuck on Dickenson. Here are 2:

22.

The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth.

The sweeping up the heart
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
Until eternity.

2.

THEY say that 'time assuages,' --
Time never did assuage;
An actual suffering strengthens,
As sinews do, with age.

Time is a test of trouble,
But not a remedy.
If such it prove, it prove too
There was no malady.

Thanks to all commenters--I'm unable to publish them, but I see them and appreciate them.