Standing by

That's how I feel -- like I'm just standing even though I know I'm supposed to be on this incredible journey.  But lately it just feels as if my feet are rooted in place and while everyone else got the green light to go ahead on their journey, I'm stuck behind the blinking yellow. I'm stunned by all of the new babies that are currently in my orbit (how to explain that my smile is both sincere and yet pained?)

"They" said it might take a year and half in total to get a new little one in our arms and in reality, we've only been doing this for a year now, so I shouldn't be feeling too anxious.  But the endless forms, letters, pictures, notarized signatures, statements both financial and personal, all start to wear after awhile.  My stomach clenches to think maybe we forgot a signature or accidentally dropped a piece of paper somewhere, but in truth, we're pretty good at paper work.  We talk in shorthand, Neil and I,in order to knock out the faxes, emails, and pdfs more efficiently.  It is emotionless and entirely absent of romance.  "Yes, they want us to provide copies of our passports again".  "Okay, we really do need to be fingerprinted more than once."  They want details on tidbits of history that were long forgotten, but don't really give us a chance to explain that that cold night in 1987 has nothing to do with the kind of parents we are today.

Neil is even less sure of where we are exactly in the process.  He follows my lead and takes a deep breath when I triumphantly check off another box on the "to-do" list; but most of the time, we wait.  It doesn't really matter if we're good at paperwork because ultimately, we have to depend on the Bureaucracy to keep moving.  I try to keep my intolerance of stupidity and poor customer service in check -- I know that my own impatience can cause the wait to be longer still.

We don't talk about this much -- not because it is a secret, but because there isn't much to say.  I'm not a superstitious person, but I'm terrified to set up the extra bedroom, to save too many toys, to hold on to the sippy cups and those sweet tiny socks because I don't want to jinx it.  I've been disappointed too many times over the years on this twisted journey and I'm afraid how one more disappointment might feel.

But I don't discourage Mason his fantasies because he too, has waited too long.  He's stood by in kindergarten, painfully aware that he was one of the only kids that didn't have a sibling branch on his family tree.  He's been saving his favorite pairs of shoes for "my baby brother" for years and savors the best books because he can't wait to read the stories to the "baby brother or baby sister."  Where once he was adamant that it had to be a boy, he's since resigned himself to any gender and gamely suggests both boy and girl names during long car rides (all of which have been so far rejected by his parents). 

Somehow, writing this down helps me feel like we're moving forward.  And I thought I'd invite you to come along.