I have two posts rolling around in my brain.
The first is filled with negative energy directed outward at everyone who has told me recently that "it's just too hard to read your blog." Yeah...I get it...I'm sad...this blog is sad...you just can't bring yourself to face that. Never mind that I don't get a choice about the sadness and you make me feel like an inconvenience when you say things like that...we're good.
oops...it seems as though that first post just slipped out. Though I can assure anyone reading this that the original version was much longer and filled with profanities that would make your hair curl.
The second is the post that I'm afraid to post. It's the one that will most likely cause a chain reaction of telephone calls the likes of which I'm not sure the telecommunications infrastructure of our great country can handle. Plus, I don't want to jinx anything. No, I'm not pregnant (thank God).
[Big deep breath]
We submitted the preliminary application with an adoption facilitator.
[Another big deep breath]
Ladies and gentlemen, hope has returned to the building.
We submitted the application via email and I have to admit that it was exciting to press the SEND button. Terrifying...but exciting. This is a process unlike any other. Yes, it has similarities to other "big" steps in life. But this one...it makes me want to giggle and throw up all at the same time (which I’m sure would not be a pretty sight). And it's funny, because I thought you didn't get morning sickness except when you were the one pregnant. Turns out other things can induce similar physical symptoms. But I digress.
The procedure seems somewhat like the lengthy drawn-out sort of process you go through when buying a house. It feels like the excitement and fear in that instant before you walk down the aisle to get married. All the anticipation of a new baby is there. I can’t say it is without fear…but it is a different kind of fear. I suppose once you’ve faced the fear of having another dead baby, the fear of a failed adoption is somehow less stressful. Yes, I know an adoptive baby could still die…but it won’t die inside me.
So there it is. The post I was afraid to post.
It’s like admitting failure and embracing possibility all with the same set of words. And it’s a much better post than that first one I was considering.
We will hear from the adoption facilitator within the next two weeks.
[Another big deep breath]
(I have a feeling I'm going to be doing a lot of that deep breathing in the coming months...maybe I should take up yoga.)
***edited to add: Private Domestic Adoption***