Wait in the cafeteria

That was our agency's solution to our high anxiety about birth father's violent past...come to the hospital for the birth, but wait in the cafeteria if he's present. Needless to say we weren't happy with that answer. Not that it might not be good advice if we want to avoid birth father altogether (we don't), but we were expecting more "counseling" on the matter. I guess that's lesbians for you, always wanting to process....

Which of course, we did. Luckily (or predictably?) I had a therapy session scheduled for Thursday anyway, so I introduced my wife to my therapist and we had a little couples counseling on our fears and our hopes. It really helped. We are definitely scared (of all kinds of things...revocation period, unpredictable birth father) but we also really want to be present for this peanut. So we're going to do our best to make this a positive experience and try to manage our fear and anxiety and just be present and take it one step at a time.

Honestly, I feel like an overstretched balloon. I may or may not have about jumped down S's throat when she made an off-hand, innocuous comment about my driving. So what if we cried in the Tar.get parking lot. We also left with 4 bags of peanut essentials (who knew they put all the baby stuff on clearance after the holidays - hello super cute fleece pants for $1.50 - and on that side note - geez, do I love little boy clothes - as well as the designers at Tar.get who make all the little boy clothes look just like itty bitty lesbian outfits). Just sayin':

A few details...a big question

Things have been *happening* over here. I've kept the details to myself a little for privacy's sake and a lot just because it's emotionally exhausting and I only have energy for sleeping and eating cookies. I never knew being chosen by a birth mother would be even harder than waiting for one to pick us.

The good news: she changed her mind again and we met her yesterday and she is all the good things we day dreamed about...most importantly she loves this peanut and wants to be a part of his (it's a boy!) life after the placement.

The crisis: After we met the birth mother we came home and googled the birth father’s name. He was arrested (and since released) for a violent crime last year. Now we’re freaking out. The birth father is against the adoption and we’re afraid he’s going to come over and beat us up or kidnap the baby. Maybe over reacting. But maybe not.

So that’s where things stand. Precarious...with baby set to arrive any second.

We're trying to reach our agency (for words of wisdom) but they are closed for the holidays and the on-call person is in the midst of a more pressing crisis (c-section). We don't know what to do. Brain says run, heart says stay.

Slipped through our fingers

And just like that the roller coaster is over. The birth mother we were working with has not responded to emails (1 from us, multiple from agency) and phone calls (1 from us, multiple from agency). Our adoption counselor recommended we unmatch. She is processing the paperwork right now.

We are grateful for so many things:

• That she didn't change her mind *after* she placed the baby with us
  
• That this process of matching and unmatching has been relatively quick and we can be placed back in circulation after just a few weeks and not after several months
  
• That we didn't get to know her and form a strong emotional bond with her only to have to let her and her baby go
  

We are also sad. Really, really, really sad. Let's face it, even with my whole grateful list, it's not all easy peasy. I'm in a hotel room, getting ready for a work meeting. I wish I was home for this part. For the sad. But I'm in Miami (then Chicago, then San Diego, then home to get the nursery ready...except not. So really, home to eat lots and lots of chocolate). It's been so fun dreaming and scheming with S about everything from car seats to college graduations (OK, we got a little ahead of ourselves). I even got the, um, milkmaids up and running. I'm not quite sure what to do with them now. Just stop the dom.peridone cold turkey?

Also? Last minute hospital placement? You know I'm not going to be able to let that idea go.

Is no news sometimes good news?*

So, we were supposed to meet our birth mother. Sort of a really awkward get to know you over coffee or lunch kind of thing. We called her and she never called back.

Our agency was supposed to set up our official "match meeting" where we go over all the details as far as what happens at the hospital, during the first few weeks, and the next 18 years. They called her and she never called back.

We're feeling a little discouraged over here. It's kind of weird though. Because I'm rooting for both outcomes. I really want her to raise her baby if she feels that's the best choice. And I really want to raise her baby if she feels placement is the best choice. There's sort of no "best case scenario". I think the unknown of it all is really the hardest part. I was telling S, I feel like everything will still be an option until she actually has the baby and we don't get that last minute phone call from our agency. So...everything is up in the air...I'm not really sure what I "hope" happens...I'm mostly OK with it all but sometimes I'm full of anxiety or hope or discouragement or excitement.

In other news, I had my first dream ever about our peanut. My dreams are *always* anxiety dreams. This one had me getting a last minute call to pick up our peanut, putting him in my purse**, and running around town all worried because I had a baby in my purse but couldn't take care of him because I didn't have any diapers or formula. Disturbing on so many levels, no?

*And all this time I wondered what my 100th post would be.
**I don't even carry a purse.

99th Post: WE'VE MATCHED

Now that I've returned to real life...where I have time for things like sleeping and getting the mail and saying hello to the cats, I thought I would draw this blogging business out. Save my big news for that special 100th post. But, forget that. This is TOO HUGE. We've matched with a birth mother!

I am beyond excited. And scared. And excited. Did I say excited? I'm excited. I want to tell you all about her, but I feel like I should be protective of her info. But let me tell you this:

• She is due in a matter of weeks. As in more than 4 but less than 10.
  
• I do not know if she is having a boy or a girl and I do not know if she knows if she's having a boy or a girl. I didn't ask on purpose. I might later. I don't know.
• She's not sure about her placement plan. And our agency is all, "red flag, red flag, red flag". And I agree. She has huge doubts and I am trying to keep my hopes and expectations under control. But today, today I am happy and excited!
  
• After that first phone call, I started popping the birth control pills (part of the induced lactation plan). I've never really had to take bcp before. Damn, by bo.obs are big! (I am so interested to see how this bfing thing goes - I'm about to order all kinds of craziness on the internet - tubes and bags and machines and funnels - my inner science geek [which is really more of an outer true identity] is so into this)
  
• This baby is not the same race as S or myself. And as much I can say, "that doesn't matter to me", I know that matters to other people. To strangers. And, sadly, to some of S's family. And I already worry that it is too much to ask of this baby - to have to deal with all of that (this certainly deserves its own post - but it's on my mind and I wanted to put it out there)
  
• We haven't met the birth mother yet. She's been very hesitant to move forward and we wanted to give her the space to make the right decision for her and her family. We hope to meet her next week. I might die of introversion and social awkwardness.
  
• Bring it Tar.get. I got a coupon for $5 off and I am about to buy some baby stuff!!!

And there you have it. I know I might be sad in a few weeks if it doesn't work out, but today I'm excited about the possibility of it all. And I'm just going to trust that this baby ends up exactly where he or she is supposed to be.

Update - the 3.5 month variety

Life has been...hectic. I've started posts a million times in my head, only to be side tracked by deadlines and flights and relationship yuck. Work sucked the life out of me for awhile. I'm pretty sure I single-handedly saved Delta from bankruptcy with all the out of town gigs I was able to book. Believe me, I'm thankful to have the work. But also exhausted. And my stress/absence took its toll on my relationship with S. And basically everything else in my life (friends, blogs, personal hygiene). But while all of that was going on, this was happening too:

We were chosen as a "favorite family" two times in September - not at all in October

Our profile was sent to 10 potential birth families in September and 9 in October

We've been renewing finger prints and physicals and such as parts of our home study have started to expire (weird...makes it sound like rotten cheese)

We got THE CALL!

THE CALL. The one I thought would never come. She called and she was nervous and I was nervous and I couldn't believe it. It was awkward but genuine. She seemed so unsure of moving forward. She was so scared of what other people would think if she made the decision to place, of what her baby would think. I wished I knew her and could giver her a hug and tell her whatever decision she made would be the right one. But really I just told her that I was glad she called and that I hoped she had a nice day. How...completely... inadequate.

We didn't hear from her for weeks. I would think about her and hope she was OK. I knew we might never hear from her again, but it was like that door of "knowing her" had opened and now I thought about her and worried about her and hoped she had people supporting her. And then our agency called....

Damn, Vegas

• Coffee + croissant at the walk-up stand in the hotel = $10.00
  
• Enough fake boobs to make me think implants are coming back in style
  
• Enough cigarettes to make me think smoking never went out of style
  
• $10.00 lost on the penny slots because I was feeling lucky