Yesterday my mom and I went with some other gals from our squadron spouses group to look at the lavender fields in Norfork – which was fun, especially the gift shop (teacher gifts this year will be Norfolk wines, baby). Then we had some friends over for dinner, also cool. They left around 9:15 and we put the kids to bed.
It was all downhill from there.
Hunky and I decided to call the adoption agency, since we never heard anything about our I-600 being filed, and because Hunky has a meeting with his boss on Tuesday about this adoption stuff, and would like to be able to give his boss some solid information.
Our case worker is on vacay, but the social worker knows us and talked to me for a while. He didn’t know anything new about our case, so I started asking if this whole thing seemed a little off to him, with us not getting any updates for 3 months, and the referral being only ESSENTIALLY official instead of ACTUALLY official. I babbled that I was scared that some evil other agency had paid off the orphanage for this child, and he wasn’t there anymore, or that he is really sick, and they don’t want to say anything, or any number of bad things that race through my mind throughout the day and especially at night.
And here’s the worst thing: the social worker replied that my fears WEREN’T UNREASONABLE. Usually my fears are really pretty far out there, so I guess I was expecting him to say, “no, no, that won’t happen”, etc. Instead he confirmed that its TOTALLY possible that this adoption won’t work out, but that they “haven’t given up yet”. WTH?? Our case worker makes it sound like our I-600 will be filed any day, and travel will probably be this summer, given that this child has special needs. But the social worker makes it sound like this is a losing battle, even though they’re not quite ready to throw in the towel…yet.
I managed to hold it together (for the most part) until we got off the phone, and then I just turned to Hunky and said “this is not going to happen, is it?”, and just lost it. I believe ‘weeping’ would be the appropriate term. I don’t think I’ve done that throughout this whole adoption process. And of course we know that it isn’t over yet, and we are trying to remain hopeful, but really what we feel is completely helpless. Whatever God wants for us will be what happens here – we’ve done all that we can (except to keep praying, which we ask all of y’all to do as well).
You know, as a sidenote, sometimes I feel so selfish for getting so worked up about this adoption. Hunky and I have 2 wonderful children already, and i know so many in the adoption world who don’t have any. Some of you reading this may feel like “what does she have to complain about when she already has children?”. And it is partially true – we have nothing to complain about – our lives are so full of blessings already. But Hunky and I have always wanted a big family. We’ve always wanted to have adoption be a part of building that family. And, as every one who has or is adopting knows, this process is just. so. frapping. hard. And we’ve tried really hard to close off our hearts to this child, because we know that anything can happen, and he isn’t ours…but that never really works in my case. I’m so attached. And I will be beyond heartbroken if this doesn’t work out.
Ok, enough rambling about our adoption woes: the rest of the night was yet to come! Around 2am, Y woke up and crawled into bed with us…and then proceeded to not go back to sleep until 4:45. Perfectly happy, babbling to himself, asking me questions, but not sleeping, which is how I prefer to spend these wee hours. And even after he fell asleep, I couldn’t shut my mind off: should we even set up the crib in the new house, or just use that bedroom as an office? where will the boys go to school in the fall? will we ever have another child? and so on, ad nauseum. I finally gave up and read a book until 6:30, when I fell back asleep for a few short hours. Not a good night.
Moving on: today Hunky and I brought everything down from the attic for the movers on Monday. And I’ve discovered that our attic is magic – like that car in Harry Potter that the Weasleys use – the expanding one. Because now our ENTIRE upstairs is FULL of stuff that was in the attic. We can’t even enter 2 bedrooms – they’re packed from floor to ceiling. I SO hope that our new house has a big attic. I know I can’t hope for a magical one – that sort of thing only happens once in a lifetime.