Snapshot 27: Midway

We have been swimming in the pool for 16 full months. We are starting month 17. I wish I could say that the Midway title refers to the fact that we reached the halfway mark towards a potential start to our family of three, or more... But no. The way we chose to build our family is not a predictable one. It is not one that comes with a specific timeline. It could be tomorrow, it could be in 3 years, it could be never.

So, I am trying to beat the system :). Because if you think that I am going to just cross my arms and wait, well, it’s not going to happen! I am in control here!

I can control my food intake (I have love handles to prove it), the number of hours I sleep (wait until I add a little one to our family and that control will go south!), and I can even control the number of times I exercise each week (somehow that number has fallen down a bit lately).

So, there should be no question that I will decide how this whole waiting thing goes. And yes we are Midway. We waited 16 months and we have 16 more to go. The wait will be over then. See, when the midnight bell rings in 16 months, we will either have started a family or we will walk aimlessly wondering what to do next.

Why 16 months? It is based on a totally arbitrary date that I set. It falls on DH’s birthday. DH never agreed about setting a deadline. He is going along with my idea that it is easier to do so, but he might decide to delay his birthday 16 months from now :).

Quite frankly, I feel that I have to set a deadline or one day, I’ll be buying baby diapers and extra large adult ones at the same time!

Snapshot 26: Brain for rent

Please come see my brain. It has a fully functioning ability: it has it smarts moments, its dumb moments and its quite crazy emotional moments. It is not new, has logged in quite some miles but it remains pretty economical with a pretty low maintenance level ( this last statement might not reflect DH’s opinion!).

Nevertheless, during the 40 days wait, I have decided to take a vacation from my brain but I’ll give you premium access to it for this entire time-off. To request information on the price, please write to the Poolsnapshots; I will then tell you how much I am willing to pay you to take my brain for a while.

Anywho… Numbers always play a trick on me, and 40 is no exception. See for yourself
- 40; Number of days I need to wait before knowing more about the situation.
- 40; number of days it took Jesus to find peace in the desert
- 40; or quarantine; number of days you need to be put away to avoid contaminating other people.
- 40; number of days it took a team from the Netherlands to cross the Atlantic Ocean rowing.

They crossed a whole Ocean in 40 days? Then I can probably make it sitting on my pool lounge chair looking at the grass grow and sipping a cool lemonade.

Snapshot 25: Now we know

DH called the other counselor. I don’t have long distance at work so he had to be the one calling. Poor guy. Not because he had to call but because he had a half hour session with me the evening before, so that I could make certain he was going to ask the right questions…. Hum, I wonder why he was getting slightly irritated after a while :). I knew I had already pushed the limits of his patience but I still had to ask, in a slightly patronizing voice: “Make sure you write down exactly what she says”. He decided that the best thing to do was just roll his eyes and sigh. Again, poor guy…

So he comes back home in the evening. I am trying to not jump on him right when his left foot makes it through the door. I can be patient you know. I waited for both feet to be through the door. “I guess you want to know” he says.

Now, what do we know: nothing very new really. We just know the same. The mother and the father of the baby have separated. They are still in good terms. They are looking at adoption while still exploring other options. They feel a strong connection to us through our profile. The mother is 5 ½ months pregnant and if there is any decision or contact made it will not be before the end of July.

Rational part of the brain: sounds like great people who are trying to make the best decision at the time they are at in their life. They seem to have a very strong head on their shoulder ( that, I get through more personal info that I am not sharing here). I understand that they need time to make sure that they will make the right decision. I feel that they could be great parents and I will feel good if it is the choice they ultimately make.

Emotional part of the brain: please don’t tease me. I cannot handle it. That is a totally different kind of wait. Very different. I am having visions of 4 months from now. I never had that before. I cannot set myself up for heartbreak but how can I avoid thinking about the possibilities. I am a bad, bad, bad person for thinking “Please, keep choosing us, we will be great”, but I cannot help it. And what if, and what if, and what if….

Shhhhh….

The sun is setting down on the pool. Summer made its grand entrance today. There is just a little breeze, gentle enough to break waves on the warm pool water. I breathe deeply. I need to enjoy the NOW, I really need to.

Only 40 days before we learn more. Still 40 nights.

Snapshot 24: Dear Poolsnapshots,

The mail popped up. I did not want to open it. I waited to be at a time where I could hide in a corner if I needed to.

There, I did it. I opened it.

Dear Poolsnapshots,

Of course you have the right to wonder and it is understandable that you would want to know whether to put this to rest or continue to hope. I do not know what the situation is right now, so I will forward your email to the counselor who was working with the woman I talked to you about.

Have a good summer

Your counselor.

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH! You are asking me to wait again. You are asking me to agonize in front of an unopened email again.
I guess I’ll have no choice. I’ll swim harder and I’ll go and pour myself alittle glass of my favorite wine. Now. Right now.

Dear Poolsnapshots (2)

Hello,

Your counselor told me to contact you about a woman I am working with and who requested your profile. I would love to talk with you at your convenience. I am off for a few days but I will be back in the office on --------- so please call me then and I’ll be happy to answer your questions.

The other counselor

Let’s see: “a woman I am working with.” Sounds like present tense to me. Must mean she is still working with her right?

Now: “who requested your profile”. She did not say who “had” requested your profile so technically it could mean that she is still considering us.

Oh the mind games. I know I should stop doing this and just wait to call the counselor. That’s what I’ll do. Whoa, can you feel the control here. Impressive.

Snapshot 23: Dear Counselor,

Dear Counselor,

You may imagine that your May 14 phone call did plant a little seed in my brain. It has even begun making roots and before it sprouts and gets out of control :), I wanted to ask you something: Could you please tell me if the French woman is still thinking about placing her child?

I hope you understand that I cannot really let go of such an information, unless you were to remove parts of my brain …
I’ll be waiting to hear from you.

The Poolsnapshots.

There I sent it. True, I could have fantasized a little bit longer about the situation and asking nothing would probably have been easier. Now though, my ( small) experience as a gardener tells me that to get to the roots of a weed, you’d better not wait too long. On the other hand, if you are growing hope, you need to nurture those roots before the sprouting begins. See, I had no choice but to ask.

And here I am, in for another waiting game. I am going to be watching that mail pop up on my computer screen.

Snapshot 22: Entrusting

There are many milestones in the open adoption process. Every step you take is seen as the biggest at the time. Do you think that if you make it through the next step, whatever it may be, the rest will be much easier? If you think “YES”, I must regretfully tell you that you are mistaken.

Let’s see:
You have been writing down letters, compiling mountains of paperwork, finally your home study is ready and somebody has decided that despite the spiders in your living room you could well be a parent one day. You breathe a sigh of relief. Don’t. You are jumping into a pool, germ free yes, but still a pool where no cute and muscular lifeguard is ready to hand you his arm to get you quickly out.

No. You have to wait. No milestone in site but you’d better be like the Energizer Bunny because you are going to be waiting and waiting and waiting…

So, as I am lamenting on the lame status of my lack of progress, a discussion arises in the pool. Counselor/mediators are helping us see further than the tip of our nose and they are throwing the “What if you are chosen? Then what?” at us.

As the discussion goes further into the details, up to the entrustment ceremony, my stomach is furiously making double knots, my throat tightens and I nearly want to back paddle as furiously as my stomach is making knots.

Of course I had thought about the emotions that would come with being trusted to care for a little human being but never, never had I put myself in the hospital.

The image had always been a blur, some distant point to focus on, at some point.
A couple or a woman would be placing their baby in my arm. I will then leave the room. Somebody behind the door will be devastated.
The double knot in my stomach had now blown to a triple twist.

How could I have looked at this from such a far distance, knowing full well what emotions would be associated, but still deciding to deal with it when the moment would come?

I know. I probably would have backed out at the time. But now, I don’t know what to do to untie the triple twist. What will make me feel that my leaving with the baby will ever be ok? How can I walk guilt free out of the room? How can I look at this incredible new life and tell this baby: “Look, I am your mommy”?

It is going to be hard. Oh so hard. But it will never be as hard as it will be for the first parents of the baby. And it will be my job to let the baby know about that.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am off to the store: I need to stack up on Pepto-Bismol and Tums.

Snapshot 21: A Call

It was not The Call but A Call as my brother said. It was certainly a beautiful call and it filled my heart with a lot of emotions.

Just a few days ago, across the Atlantic Ocean, in a small village in the Alps, a little princess first opened her eyes to the big World. My little brother the dad, his wife, and the two little princes, her brothers, bathed all day in the glow of the little princess.

They were in awe. They gave her hugs and kisses; they called North, East, West and South to tell about the wonderful fairy tale that had just begun.

In a matter of hours, the World Wide Web had delivered still images of the princess. Through 10 000 kms of wires or wireless, the images transmitted the raw emotion and fullness of the day. It connected me to wave of love that was rising.

It was a beautiful day. Welcome to the World little princess…

Snapshot 20: The contract

I was lazily lounging on my favorite flotation device in the pool, counting days before summer, knowing that it would mark the beginning of my two months break; I was even thinking how my whole spirit and body would finally be able to relax and be ready to welcome a little one home, when I heard the familiar “You’ve got mail”.

It came in the form of a large envelope with the name of the agency at the top. For some reason, my heart skipped a bit. Yes, I know that the call is not going to come in the form of a paper announcement with a cheery “Just to let you know that you’d better be home tomorrow if you do not want to miss the chance to receive The Call!”. But I guess that just the name of the agency is enough to trigger weird feelings. I think I will need years of therapy to repair the damage J.

Anyhow… The big white envelope was our contract. The new and improve contract to be signed if we wanted to still stay in the pool, be part of the club!

You can well imagine that the major changes had not much to do with the process and our acceptance of it. The changes were pretty much money related.

As usual, my bipolar personality took over. Relax. I am not talking about bipolar in the medical term of course, but in the basic definition: having two opposite or contradictory natures, one being my emotional brain and the other one being my rational brain.

Rational brain: People in our agency work really hard and they deserve to also have a decent salary. They meet, talk to and counsel nearly 300 mothers every year and less than a ¼ of them decide to place their child. The mediation works way past the adoption and I feel that the follow up with first parent is also very good. Rational brain conclusion: the raise in price is fair.

Emotional brain: Why do I need to be reminded that this is a transaction? Why do I need to feel that not only can I not conceive naturally, but that there is a price to pay for that? Don’t you think that I have paid the price already? I need to keep paying more because nobody chooses me? The longer you wait the more expensive it gets? What kind of cruel punishment is that?

As you can see, the rational brain states opinions. Based on the number of question marks, you can see that the emotional brain spends a lot of time questioning everything.

At the end, with a DH being pretty much monopolar ( that’s pretty much an oxymoron, but I made it up so what can you expect), the rational brain seems to always be the winning contestant in our household.

Now, here is a chance to make the emotional brain happy: the new prices take effect on July 1. That’s 3 weeks from now. Come on, that is way enough time to call me with good news. After all, in the past 15 months that I have been in the pool, 66 couples entered the World of adoption and became parent. That’s about one couple per week. Why don’t I take the next week and we call it good?

Snapshot 19: A twist on the wait

A few weeks ago, after learning that our profile had been chosen but it-was-too–early-for-contact-and-the-woman-who-was-pregnant-
might-change-her-mind-and-yes- she-liked-us-but-could-choose-to-parent ( breathe here), I wrote that the wait was going to be more bearable. Yep, I wrote it: BEARABLE.

Why did I believe that at the time? I guess hope makes you blind and deaf to any emotions coming your way.
Since writing that word, I have been in for quite a surprising ride.
Nope, it is NOT more bearable. It is worse.

By now, you know that I love analogies, so I’ll give you this little one to chew on, just so that you get a feel for what I am going through.

Imagine a very hot day. You went out for a hike. It’s getting even hotter. You did not know that the hike was going to be so long and you did not bring any water. There is no water along the way as you are down in a deep canyon where water deserted the area for quite a long time. So, you walk. You do not worry about the water. You are not a camel but you can endure a little thirst.

You try to think about other things. You refuse to let the thirst prevent you from enjoying the hike, yet it is in the back of your mind all the time.

You have now been on your hike for what seems to have been an eternity. Suddenly, you feel a drop of water on your bear arm. You look up. There, just above you, a small cloud is slowly emptying, one droplet at a time. You open your mouth, wide, trying to catch as many drops as you can. The feeling is indescribable: someone lifted tons off your shoulders. When the drops stop, you feel like you can hike forever again.

At least you thought you could. But now, the idea that the little cloud could be somewhere not too far is making your progress very slow.

You keep trying to go back to the taste, back to the feeling that the droplets gave you. That’s when the thirst finally becomes unbearable.

I want my cloud back. Now.

Glossary:
- thirst –> wait for the call
- hike -> life goes on
- water -> a call
- cloud & droplets -> the call that left me hanging

Snapshot 18: What's with the name?

It’s beginning to feel like summer in the pool. I don’t have to wear the wet suit anymore. Plus, it is crowed. I can barely move. 5 new couples in. Welcome to all but please don’t block the stairs; I need to make an exit. Soon. What? I am not going out? But what about the 4 other couples leaving? Oh, they have been chosen to take care of 2 baby boys and 2 baby girls.

But, what about the 4 other ones next to the stairs? They what? Got the call?

Great, by the end of June THEY will also get out.

Never mind. I’ll sit on the stairs from now on. You’ll have to trample me to get out and you’ll feel so sorry that you will let me go too, right?

Based on the latest rumors, it looks like I might not be chosen for who I am.

If you read prior snapshots, you know by now that I am French. What you don’t know is that my first name, although pretty and common in my native country, is a man’s name here in the States. You cannot imagine how many times I have been asked if I was using my husband’s credit card, or how often when I show up for an appointment people are surprised to see a woman. There was one woman, who, even after learning that I was French, told me: “Honey, what the heck were your parents thinking when they gave you that name?”

Anyway, lately, I was told that maybe my name was a reason why we were not being chosen. Great, it was not enough that French might be an issue, now it’s my name!

Now, whether it is on the agency’s website or in the book, my name and my husband’s name come attached to a picture. I can tell you that whenever I look at sites with waiting parents, I never look at the name. My eyes go directly to the faces. And, I also believe that my face would hardly be mistaken for that of a man.

Nevertheless, the seed as been planted and now I am wondering, however absurd it may sound, if people have been double checking face-name and dismissing us for that reason?

At the same time, knowing that a ¼ of the adoptions happening in our agency are with gay and lesbian couples, I do not see how my name being mistaken could be a problem.

AAARRRRGHHH… Can I just be ME? Or do I have to frame myself to look the part?

To be or not to be, that is the question.