Week 11 - The Form is Found
Week 10 blew by with nothing of importance to report. So, here we are in Week 11 already, and the paperchase is still plodding on. The good news is that the elusive CPS form finally was picked up and processed. The bad news is that trickling down through the referral pipeline today are rumors suggesting that the wait is growing ever longer.....
I find myself irritated today at just about everything. It's funny how when you get yourself worked up over one little thing, issues at all ends of the spectrum become fair game for misplaced ire. It started when I read a post on another blog about someone's intention to conceive a second child after nearly dying while carrying her first son, who was born extremely premature after a complicated pregnancy. Stories like that always catch my attention, because it could have been me.
I understand what it feels like to desperately cling to the hope that maybe next time you'll be able to cheat science, fate, the odds, and yes, whatever god you believe in, and have a healthy, normal pregnancy. I don't want it any less today because I'm adopting than I did the day we decided to have a child. But, the difference today is, I have a daughter. She's not with me now, but she will be. And then what? How could I look her in the eye and tell her that the risk of me dying during pregnancy is just one she'll just have to live with? How can anyone?
I'm jealous of that blogger, for finding a way to make peace with fertility choices I cannot. I'm angry at my body, for having wonky chromosomes, zealously clotting blood, and faulty ovaries. I'm equally peeved at my brain, for having taken it's own sweet time allowing adoption to worm itself out of my head and into my heart. I'm p.o.'ed at my father, for dying before he could meet his granddaughter (or maybe just at whoever decided it was his time to go). Mostly I'm just pissed that there aren't any choices surrounding this whole f'ing thing that don't involve heartbreaking compromise, crushing self doubt, and a whole lot of limbo.
Whew...sorry for the rant. There will be better days....
I find myself irritated today at just about everything. It's funny how when you get yourself worked up over one little thing, issues at all ends of the spectrum become fair game for misplaced ire. It started when I read a post on another blog about someone's intention to conceive a second child after nearly dying while carrying her first son, who was born extremely premature after a complicated pregnancy. Stories like that always catch my attention, because it could have been me.
I understand what it feels like to desperately cling to the hope that maybe next time you'll be able to cheat science, fate, the odds, and yes, whatever god you believe in, and have a healthy, normal pregnancy. I don't want it any less today because I'm adopting than I did the day we decided to have a child. But, the difference today is, I have a daughter. She's not with me now, but she will be. And then what? How could I look her in the eye and tell her that the risk of me dying during pregnancy is just one she'll just have to live with? How can anyone?
I'm jealous of that blogger, for finding a way to make peace with fertility choices I cannot. I'm angry at my body, for having wonky chromosomes, zealously clotting blood, and faulty ovaries. I'm equally peeved at my brain, for having taken it's own sweet time allowing adoption to worm itself out of my head and into my heart. I'm p.o.'ed at my father, for dying before he could meet his granddaughter (or maybe just at whoever decided it was his time to go). Mostly I'm just pissed that there aren't any choices surrounding this whole f'ing thing that don't involve heartbreaking compromise, crushing self doubt, and a whole lot of limbo.
Whew...sorry for the rant. There will be better days....
posted by tocspaw at 12:26 AM
4 Comments:
I can certainly understand your "rant".
Here's hoping that the rumors are wrong!!!!!!
I'm so sorry. I can understand your rant, too. Things will get better :) ::hugs::
Oy. Uff. A big hug to you. I can't say I know what you're feeling but I can certainly understand and feel for you. Big big hug. Better times will come.
You're right, there will be better days. But that doesn't mean that the bad days don't suck. I'm really struggling myself, as our agency (the same as yours) has told us to expect to wait 18 months. We were originally told 6-8 months. I cry a lot. But I hold on to the hope that our daughter is out there and we will meet her soon. Hang in there. It helps to know others who are going through the same thing.
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