New addition to the family...

Any who have read my blog from the beginning will recall that Sean and I were seriously considering adopting another child.  Due to some personal circumstances, we found we wouldn't be able to proceed until June 2013, so it kind of went on the back burner for a while.  And in that time I realized a few things.

First, I had to accept that I was wholly overwhelmed with my life as it is right now.  My girls are starting to have more and more outside activities, my younger daughter is on the ASD spectrum which results in some real struggles for all of us, and the reality is that any additional stress, I might just explode. And additional stress came last summer, in the form of a huge work shift.  One of my co-workers left for another job and his entire case load ended up on my desk.  There was good in that, and I did well with it, but it left me with absolutely no emotional reservoir.

I don't like to admit the work "overwhelmed" ever has any bearing on my life.  I take great personal pride in being able to get through anything - one of my huge "walls" is to never let anyone see me sweat.  Good Germanic and Scandahoovian martyrdom and stiff upper lip b.s. and all that, you know.  It's bred into me.  But I did admit it ultimately to myself this time. 

And so the dream of adopting a child is over.  Those children need homes, and I greatly admire those who provide the homes and the amazing care that these kids need to deal with their pasts and their futures, but my children had dibs on me first and my obligation to them does not allow me to dilute myself beyond my limits.  I'd love to think I could do it all but that is not being honest with myself.  On a happier note, once I did figure it out, it took a lot of pressure off.  There is a certain amount of deep breathing that comes with accepting yourself as you are, you know? 

And our family then took a leap:  in October we adopted a second dog.  I have never had a second dog in my life, so that was an interesting prospect.  The dog we adopted, Copper, is a greyhound, rescued from a racetrack breeding farm in Kansas.  He must have been slow or something, because he never made it to the track, which is maybe a good things for him (conditions at the track are worse than those at the farms).  The thing about these rescued greyhounds is that they know nothing of family life, living in a house, or floors other than dirt and concrete.  Copper lived with thousands of other hounds in outdoor pens and kennels.  He was terrified by the door to our house and cars and mailboxes, we had to teach him to walk up and down stairs, and he still (3 months later) is spooked by new people, loud noises and shadows on the walls.  But he is sweet and sometimes playful and we have high hopes that he will continue to socialize and develop his personality.  Thankfully, he and Lucky took to each other right off.

We are a well balanced household now - 2 adults, 2 kids, 2 cats, 2 dogs; 4 males, 4 females.  I hope we are also on our way to balancing everyone's emotional needs, activities, and obligations - or at least I think we are and I'm optimistic. 

Plan B

I think I must have reached my limit for wallowing in my sadness - I didn't even spend much time cursing before I was solidly into analyzing where we can go from here.  And actually this is going to be a good thing.  It is a motivator, it is an opportunity, and it is only 13 months... I drove home from work today with ideas to plotting out a plan and feeling really good.

Then I got home and had one last email from one of the agencies before close of business - saying that we needed to wait until June 2013 to apply, but giving me a list of things we could do to move forward and get ready in those 13 months, and then we'd be ready to hit the ground running next summer.  I love it when a plan comes together!

Hardly inspirational!

I have an inspirationals quote-for-the-day calendar at work.  Today's just pisses me off.  Here is it:

NEVER GIVE UP, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn.  Harriet Beecher Stowe.

Well, Harriet, I'm sorry but this does not work for me. I should continue to beat my head against a wall that I cannot change, in hopes for a different outcome?  Doesn't that smack of the definition of insanity (continuing the same behavior, expecting a different outcome)?  And then, if I should be so "weak" as to concede that I cannot change that brick wall and give up that particular fight, I do so knowing (according to Harriet) that things would have been different had I not given up.  Guilt.  Nice. 

Perhaps I am viewing dear Harriet in too narrow a view.  Perhaps it is meant as a "big picture" sort of view - allowing for a person to give up on one particular brick wall and seek out another way to one's goal.  Maybe.  But sometimes, there is no other way and sometimes one's own mental health requires concession.  There is nothing wrong with accepting that you cannot continue the fight.

Yes, of course, this reaction is personal to my current situation - two of four screening applications have ruled us out because of Sean's chemical dependency history, flat out rejection without any consideration of what we might offer that could outweigh that concern.  Yes, I am feeling heartbroken and defeated.  What is interesting, when I step back and look at things, is that a big part of me is beating myself up for talking about this big dream I have because now that the thwarting has begun, I am feeling embarrassed at the prospect of retracting that earlier excitement and replacing it with sorrow.  And that, my friends, comes right from my childhood, where the message was 'never admit you really want something because odds are you aren't going to get it and then you'll have to admit to having felt you were worthy of something that you didn't get.'  If you never admit you want to reach for something, you never have to admit that you didn't get it.  Just stick with the Minnesota "fine" - I feel fine, my life is fine, the world is fine - and then you'll never be disappointed.  Excuse me, but I need to go spew some curse words now...

And we wait (Part 1)

From what I have learned about adoption, "wait" is a word that comes along very frequently.  When I was pregnant with my daughters, I used to joke that this was the universe's way of teaching me about patience - you just have to WAIT.  Wait wait wait...

So following the adoption fair on Saturday, we turned in our "screening application".  And now we wait to see what the agency has to say about whether we qualify for any of their programs.  We are interested in international adoption and domestic children, but in both instances - because we would prefer child(ren) over 3, we are open to some disabilities and even a sibling group - if we qualify, there may be a pool of waiting children since those kids can be harder to place.  And because our family situation has a couple issues to overcome (and I hope we will because I truly believe we have so much to offer that it outweighs any of those issues), I also put in a couple other online screening applications with other agencies this weekend - like getting a second opinion. 

And now we wait to hear what those agencies think.  It is so awful to have to put out the negatives and not really have a chance to express why our strengths outweigh those negatives.  And to accept that governmental bureaucracy (particularly a non-US governmental entity) may end our journey in a manner we find arbitrary.  But I'm breathing (in AND out) and trying very hard to believe that if there are kids out there that are meant to find their way to us, the path will show itself. 

More on the crossroads...

I posted a few weeks ago about how Sean and I were perched on a precipice - considering a very big leap for our family.  That post was here. 

Yesterday, I flippantly wrote a post about "our" vasectomy, which included discussion of our unsuccessful quest to add to our family.  That post was here.

And today I am feeling the need to ask for a little something - support, understanding, prayer, what have you - for our flying leap. 

Here's the deal:  this Saturday we are attending an Adoption Fair by a large adoption agency in our state.  Following the open house Fair, we are going to the required "informational meeting", and then I anticipate we will be handing over our screening application.  I am so excited I could squeal at the drop of a hat (which would not be normal behavior for me).  And at the same time, there is a lot that I am nervous about.  Sean's addiction history is probably the biggest red flag that we have, and different agencies (and countries if we end up pursuing international adoption) have different requirements when it comes to major medical or addiction histories.  The more I look into adoption, the more I know this is a path I've been meant for.  And I know that adoption comes with lots of ups and downs and unexpected complications, so I am trying to remain hopeful and in the moment, rather than worrying about all the possible setbacks.  We will know a LOT more about what the future holds after Saturday. 

In the meantime, let's all breathe together:  In-2-3-4, Out-2-3-4-, In-2-3-4 ...