Somebody’s sorrow is making me weep: I know not her name, but I echo her cry,
For the dearly sought baby she longed so to keep,
The baby that rode to its long-lasting sleep
In the little white hearse that went rumbling by.
I know not her name, but her sorrow I know;
While I paused on the crossing I lived it once more,
And back to my heart surged that river of woe
That but in the breast of a mother can flow;
For the little white hearse has been, too, at my door.
-Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Little White Hearse
I am in a weird spot. Transfixed by grief and the hope of hope. Does that make sense? The hope of hope. I’m not all the way there yet and this holiday season will be one where I wade through the fog, try to find simple joys as a balm for my achey heart. But it’s also a season of already but not yet…hope personified and waiting. Here I am, once again, waiting.
I had a dream last week. In this dream, by a weird set of circumstances, a friend of a family member had a brown baby boy with some health issues and she wanted us to adopt her son. In the dream, we did.
On Tuesday of THIS week, after our agency seems to only bepresenting us with situations where would have to come up with a whole lot more money-yes we have suffered financial loss with our two failed placements this year but all of the agency and lawyer and finalization legal fees have been paid and are secure (equaling about $18k). OR, they have been silent. They know where we are financially and that we don’t want to get into a situation where are waiting 6+ more months with an expectant mother. That feels too risky. So, we’ve asked them to only present situations that we could manage financially and time wise, and are the lowest risk possible. Because well, my heart.
I’m oversharing all of this because, A. that’s what I do and B. on Tuesday we got a phone call from the agency about an expectant mother and a brown baby boy due right before Christmas. We said yes, put our name in. It felt right. Our agency lawyer and social worker both agreed and made us feel like it was pretty much a done deal. The only caviat was that this expectant mother preferred a family who had no children.
We were all presented yesterday, hope rose, giddiness, glee, planning, dreaming…like I said they really made us think that this was our situation. And the dream, the dream and these past 18 months are making me question everything and realize that we really open to anything. And honestly, in adoption, anytime your “throw your name in the hat” you kind of have to get your head/mind/heart completely in, especially when the baby is due in 12 days.
Around lunch time, we found out that the expectant mother did not choose us.
It’s all okay. Brandon and I had a good cry about it yesterday afternoon, I will likely continue to and it will all be fine.
We knew she preferred a family without kids and that’s what she chose. So a sweet couple who was probably just like me and B before Canaan are getting a Christmas miracle. That’s beautiful.
But here we are again. Our homestudy has to be renewed asap, we thought it was January, it expires on December 18th. These past 18 months, in regards to our adoption process this time around, has felt like 18 months worth of every single infertility shot. 18 months of hoping and peeing on a stick just to loose a baby over and over. 18 months of waiting and hoping and prepping just to have achey empty arms. And yesterday we hoped and believed that …the stick might say yes. It didn’t. This is not a new feeling. Not a new reality for us. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Canaans birth mother and I communicate pretty frequently when things are going good with her, I continue communicating but when she is struggling, but we don’t hear from her during those times. She and I were laughing over a doppelgänger model in the pottery barn kids holiday magazine. It seriously looked like Canaan. So much so, that I sent it to her, she asked what toy he was playing and I said “that’s not our son” 😂. It was hilarious. Then I told her about the new situation and that we were being presented. She responded with this, and I do have permission to use this btw “I wish I could speak with her and let her know that no one in this world would be better for her son than you and Brandon. Canaans gonna be a great big brother. I’ll say a million prayers for all of you. I love you guys whole heart whole world. My ring never leaves my finger I’ve worn it every day since the day you gave it to me”. Those words, our friendship, the redemption and healing that she is fighting for, is worth all of this. I wish I could tell you how much it means to read this from the only other person in this world who loves our son as much as we do.
I wasn’t going to share this new news, lack of news? Because it’s just one more hard thing. But, this is real life, our very real life. Its what adoption looks like sometimes, and maybe, our story and experience will help you feel like you’re not alone.
We are starting to investigate/pursue other avenues. I can’t share details “publicly” like on a blog that possibly gets read by at least my momma 😳😜, but this situation has reminded me, we are still in this. Hope is flickering.
In so many ways…a baby will come.
And sometimes rising before the sun so you can sit in a cold, dark room and drink a hot, hot coffee is as healing as anything.
Love and hugs. And coffee. Always coffee.