So I don't know if any of you remember the TV show Love Connection, but for some reason it came to me this morning. I watched this show at way too young an age for way too many episodes, but it intrigued me. As I was thinking about our adoption experiences over the past several months, Chuck Woolery kept popping into my head. "Chuck, our first try wasn't a love connection, but this time we will try the audience pick for us and give it a go!"
Now I would rather be sharing all this with my therapist, but since I can't afford one, I will share it with my internet therapist (ie, whatever random reader stops in, and from looking at my page view stats, is not abundant, so I feel even better about unloading my personal feelings, which I normally try to keep to myself...).
Since our failed placement right before Christmas until today, here is a list of our NON-love connections:
-still waiting to hear today or tomorrow
That is a long list. What does this list mean? What it translates to is that for the past 5 months, about every other week we have been matched with a potential birthmother to be shown our profile. It means that 11 times the agency has called to ask if we were interested in being shown. We said we were. Then a week later the agency called (usually emailed though, the rejection easier to serve that way) and said the birthmother chose to place with another family.
Since it takes about a week for the birthmothers to decide it means about every other week we have had a week off, when the other weeks we go about our business waiting and every phone call that comes in, drops our stomachs. Do you know how many phone calls you get the span of a week? I will attest, it's a lot of stomach dropping.
I don't like roller coaster. I love amusement parks but hate roller coasters.
Our course the kids no nothing about our 11 "almosts." (Thankfully, they stopped reading the blogs about the time the rest of you did.) We speak around it, we pray vague prayers for peace and comfort, we give lots of knowing (and unknowing) glances, and we wait. Lots of anxious waiting. Not just the regular "oh, we are on an adoption site and we are waiting for someone to choose us..." Not that kind of passive waiting. It's the active, "some is looking at our profile right this minute. and looked at it yesterday and possibly tomorrow and are we right? is this going to happen? is our world going to change any second" -type waiting. Roller coaster waiting at the top of the hill looking over the ledge type waiting.
We tried coping every which way and found none is better than the other. We've tried the "pretend like nothing is going on don't talk about it" strategy. We also tried the "let's pick a name to give us something to stew on as a distraction method." We've tried the "ok, this is her due date, what will we do how will be work this out how much are airline tickets right now for that date" strategy. None of them are helpful. Especially the avoidance.
A couple of nights ago I erred on the side of stupid and watched a special on TLC called "BIRTHMOMS." It was rough. I watched in horror as this 19 year old birthmother sat and criticized up and down all the profiles of waiting couples. I mean she ripped on them, "They're too homely. Too farmer. Too ugly. Too many kids. Too fat. Too Mennonite." All I could imagine was 11 different birthmothers ripping through our profile. "Too tall. Too short. Too homely. Too Virginian. Too Mormon. Too many boys." It seriously made me sick to my stomach but I couldn't turn away. Hear me when I say, she clearly had more than a lot on her mind and I imagine was manifesting her anxiety about placing as hatred of the couples who would do for her baby was she was desperately wanted to do, but was unable to do. I heard that. But I also heard someone tearing away at my family, my hopes, my intentions. (See, I told you I needed therapy).
Here is the biggest pisser of it all...OK maybe not the biggest, but close...I love my life. I love my family. I love the day to day, the big picture, the in's and out's and ugly and the marvelous. I'm not sad. I'm just tired. The pit in my stomach feels like it has settled in and built a beach house.
I guess what I am saying is that I want my LOVE CONNECTION already! I want to go on the awesome date around Hollywood, all expenses paid OR I want my parting gift of Tums and a toaster and I want to go home. Either way, I hate just hanging out here in the Green Room.