Don't Call It A Comeback

Inspired by a few friends who have expressed to me how awful the holidays are while waiting to adopt, I am pumping a little life into the ole' adoption blog.

You guys, I haven't forgotten what it's like. I may never forget and I really don't want to. It's good to keep some of the pain near the surface, to stay grateful for what you have in life. In no particular order, these are the things that got me through the holidays whilst waiting, year after year. Your miles may vary.

1. Near constant distraction in the form of doing things. Concerts, movies, girl's nights out, dates with the husband, shopping WAY too much. You get it, leave the house.

2. Netflix binges. Not just any Netflix binge. The holidays bring Love Actually and Bridget Jone's Diary... The ultimate in holiday chick flick bingeing. Add some peppermint schnapps that we won at a curling bonspiel raffle to some hot cocoa and maybe, just maybe, something extra calorie ridden to eat, and BAM you got yourself a full afternoon of no thinking. Optional: random British romcom featuring Colin Firth, as suggested by Netflix.

3. Tacos and margaritas. Jalapeno margaritas to be exact, because who doesn't want their burning drink to burn more? Extra points for doing this with other people waiting to adopt or your BFF.

4. Three dollar draught beer with your BFF with half priced apps and Barnes and Noble shopping afterward. Thankfully, you will be tipsy from beer and not mind Christmas shopping while at B&N. Beer and books are, quite frankly, the perfect combination.

5. While the husband is away, the wife will play....records. I did a lot of exploring our record collection. We grief ordered a 7 foot beanbag after our neardoption last May. Lounging on said beanbag chair (if you can call it that? beanbag sofa?) and listening to records was indeed the therapy my counselor couldn't provide.

6. Speaking of counselors, a good therapist is everything in the adoption wait. If you are in the Atlanta area and need one, I have the person for you. She has plenty of experience thanks to going through the wait with me! We laughed, we cried, we sat and stared at each other silently.

7. Frank Turner's music (obvs). Being careful to avoid certain songs and albums that made things worse. Never "Song For Eva Mae". Never.

8. Hugglin' my friend's kids and my nephew. Huggles all around. Even when I thought it would be hard to see them, their kid innocence and joy was exactly what I needed in the end.

9. Talking about WHEN not IF with my friends. Gosh, it hurt so bad when people would say "IF" if it happens for you. My heart would soar if a friend said in passing "When your baby comes". It's such a small thing, but also not small at all.

10. Remembering that no matter what emotions I'm dealing with, the woman who would eventually be placing her child with us will be dealing with so much more. Perspective.

This Christmas, we celebrate with our son. This was longed for. Previous Christmases made me feel sick for us. This Christmas I feel sick for my friends, because I get it. I so get it. Below you will find links to a few of my friend's adoption profiles through the agency we used. Please share and spread the word. I wouldn't share anyone I wouldn't vouch for as solid, awesome people.

My jalapeno margarita/dog cuddling/exercise so we can brunch heavily sister from another mister and her fun loving, as well as funny, husband. They are local!

Jessica and Clay

Friends with senses of humor, tons of personality, and good all around people. Also local!

Sarah and Chris

They've been through it all and still keep a positive stance. We go way back to the beginning of our wait. West coasters!

Nicole and Don

Our former profile neighbors and adoption wait warriors. Located in NC.

Angela and Ethan

Full of fun and and wit, with the brains to back it up (Graduated from the school I where I work!). Local peeps.

Kristan and John

She's nothing but kindness and warmth. Indiana.

Heidi

Sarcasm and artistic talent? Local!

Amy and Ryan

I am so grateful that our list of waiting friends that we feel emotionally invested in through our agency is shrinking! Congrats to everyone who adopted in 2016 and here is to this list getting even smaller in 2017! If I missed your profile, it wasn't on purpose. Send me a note and I will share your profile.

Thicker Skin

Light in the midst of darkness on my walk to work today.

I woke up feeling light-hearted today for the first time in a long time. I don't have a good explanation for it. I've been off of Facebook for a couple of days, so maybe that's it. Maybe it's because I have had to deal a lot lately with reconciling my feelings of jealousy and feelings of joy for friends either adopting quickly and/or before us or having many many contacts while we sit silent or get scammed again and again. It's a full time job processing those conflicting feelings. Maybe it's because I started my Frank Turner listening party at 5:30am this morning. That never hurts.

I'm going to be honest, I had kind of forgotten how it feels to be happy. I know, that sounds dramatic. There is a difference between moments of happiness- like when we have our nephew and he cracks us up- and just simply being happy in general. Man, I hope this lasts. I hope it isn't a total freak out that I am mistaking for elation. My chest is feeling relaxed for the first time in a while. It has just been so tight for, I'd say months. Is there fear that we will never adopt looming? Of course. Is there sadness that another day passed that was not the day we became parents? Of freakin course. Do I feel some grief trying to sneak in? Ugh, yes, but I'm fighting it.

We have to be the best version of us in order to be awesome parents, which I know we will be. This means not giving in to jealousy, despair, or anger at the process. Okay, so some people adopt right away and that isn't us. We will be stronger for it. We will love our child that much more, because we had to fight so hard for this. We've always had to fight hard for everything we have. We are at a place that the only thing we are fighting to achieve is parenthood. The rest has been settled. We can get through this one.

That's all I really have today. It's been hard to write. It's been hard to feel the things I've needed to feel. I have 3 blog posts that I wrote, but never published, because I've been too hard on myself. I am my own worst enemy in this process.

May I always see the road rising up to meet me and my enemies defeated in the mirror behind. My adoption wait anthem:

Post #100. A Day In The Life.

This is our 100th blog post! That is crazytown.

I'm finding it really hard to blog lately. I have this new theory about adoption. Well, our adoption. I am starting to think that this is some social/psychological experiment to see how long it takes two perfectly sane people to crack. Like really crack.

How much can two happily married, middle class, suburban (only by location, not mindset!) people take before losing it? A lot. We can take a lot. Adoption, you are trying to break us down, but you can't win.

Can we talk about the day to day of adoption? A day in the life. Note: I am leaving out some of the stuff that can happen day to day that are adoption related for privacy reasons. And for optimism reasons.

Alarm goes off. A moment of peace in my warm bed. Restroom, put coffee on, feed the cats. I pick up my phone (admit it, you all do about this time) and my email begins to update. Eight new emails in my personal account. Smyna Vinings Patch with their vague headlines. A coupon from World Market, nice! Updates from my grad class. A thought pops into my head "Sarah, don't think it, if you think it, it won't happen". But I think it anyway "I hope this is the morning"....

I nervously (this feeling doesn't get better. Always nerves firing) look to see if there is a 1 or 2 or 3 next to sarahandjohnadopt@gmail.com . The number 2 appears. "Sarah, you thought it, so it's going to be junk mail", but hope sticks around as I hit the account...

"Dearest Pleasant One" oh yay. A scam email. "Hello I am emailing of the baby Saint Bart's Orphanage. We have all the blondest haired, bluest eyed babies in Cameroon (personal note, this is not important to us.We are open to all races and ethnicities). Of the sincerest email us. Baby waiting for you sincerely". Two scam emails. Hooray. I close it, disappointed I drink my coffee. I force myself to get dressed. One mismatching article of clothing at a time. I mean who cares right? It's not like today will be the day. Besides, maybe if I'm horribly unprepared and look a mess it will happen.

I park quite far from work, so I have a nice calm walk in to the office. It's early, the elementary school is just opening, so I'm surrounded by little kids, holding hands, chattering about recess and who is friends with who. It hits me again. Warm heart feelies. Maybe I should refresh the email. Maybe I should check google voice in case we got a text and google didn't email me. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

I park my rear at my desk and refresh my email, check google voice, triple check our adoption Facebook page. Nada. A deep sigh.

Meanwhile on Facebook another couple from our agency has adopted. They announce it on their page with such joy and relief. They waited 7 months. We hit 28 months two days ago. My chest hurts for a minute. The underlying grief of our wait rears it's ugly head.

Grief. It's a theme of a long adoption wait. People you meet and love adopt before you. People you love have failed adoptions. You feel grief for both. Your own adoption fails. Grief. Babies being abandoned in woods, dumpsters, high schools on the local news. Grief. If they had known about us, would they have chosen us? If they had known about our agency, would they still have abandoned their babies? So much grief.

The rest of my day is distracted mostly by work. The thoughts pop into my head between students "Check your email. Check adoptimist. Check it, check it check it". more thoughts "What if our lives change tonight? Ugh no Sarah, you thought it, it's not going to happen now".

I know I am not that powerful. I can't think us into or out of an adoption.

The drive home is full of music that triggers emotions. Life gives you demons, but I made friends with the devil, so I am invincible. Revved up, yes Frank, I am invincible. Adoption, you can't crack me.

At home, evenings are my favorite. John and I watching whatever we recorded while we have dinner. We talk about our day, an undertone of "it didn't happen today". I refresh my email. My chest hurts again. More TV, homework, bedtime.

I wake up at 1am in panic, a dream that we had a baby. A girl, 4 months old, chubby as can be. It takes a full 3 minutes to orient myself to realize it was a dream. Back to sleep hoping to be stronger tomorrow.

It's tomorrow and I feel stronger.


Working on a new Q&A since we are getting a lot of the same questions. For now you can review the first three Part 1 Part 2 Part 3


Some Monday tunes. 

Christmas 2015: Part Two- Funsies

I'm ready for part two of my Christmas post. The last post was about feelings. Boo feelings! If you happen to like feelings though, here is a link : Christmas 2015 Part One .

This is not a feelings post. This is a what we have been up to and what we will soon be doing post.

As per my recent hiatus ending post noted, I saw Frank Turner again. Oh yes, I did indeed. Pictures below. I'm off of work this week, so there has been plenty of laziness and general hanging out.

John has been curling, and watching Everton play soccer, and working hard as usual.

The house is superbly decorated. Presents are wrapped and ready to be torn into (or bags peeped into, because wrapping got tedious, so I turned to the good ole gift bag.

Christmas cards are hung in our entry way. What I really love about our Christmas cards is that so many of them are pictures of families created through open adoption!

It is lifting my soul up to receive these cards from friends we have made during the adoption wait. Watch out, when we have our kid, our Christmas card photos are going to be epic.

Let's not forget the cards featuring friends and their pets! More fur please!

Our annual tin of Christmas cookies arrived from our friend Katie and her family. You may remember her from such blog posts as Vacation Recap: Philadelphia . 

Katie's cookies mean the start of Christmas. She may be thinking "Great, now I can never stop sending them!" No Katie, you cannot. Kidding, sort of. 

I particularly loved the card, which included a drawing by Xander, Katie and Anthony's 4 year old son. I believe he now fancies himself an artist and author of stick figure and worm family books.

We saw Star Wars on opening day. This is the only picture I took, because, well, I was sending it to another friend we met through our adoption agency who was also seeing it that night.

This is the freezing cold line to get in. Yeah, sure it was cold that night, but it won't be for Christmas! It's supposed to be 77 here on Christmas day. It's currently pouring rain here, with a risk of tornadoes tonight. It's not exactly holiday spirit inducing weather.






I know you are all waiting for my Frank Turner trip update!

So, here it is. My friend Jessica went with me to Nashville to see Frank. She had seen him open for (I think) Ben Folds years ago. She was the first person I have met who actually knew who Frank Turner is, so ya know, I kept her. That sounds creepy (she's in the basement..shhhh). Kidding. No, she's actually getting ready to fly to Italy. Whatevs. I'll just hang here in the 'burbs.

Anyway, we went to an instore performance at Grimey's in Nashville and like .. um.. met him and got his autograph and stuff... Yeah, I know, I have met him before. Trust me, it doesn't get old. He liked my shirt (*blush*). I may  have prematurely put my arm around him for our picture. Man, I can be awkward.

What's that? An autographed record? Mine! All mine!

Also, he said I my way of spelling Sarah is the best way and I was all like, yeah, totally, mumble mumble squirm. Because I am super smooth when talking to my music idols.

So, let me not leave out the part where a friend I made in the Frank Turner Army (it's a thing, ok?) Marisa is her name, got us wrist bands to make this possible. It was a know a girl who knows a guy type of deal. I am so thankful to Marisa and her friend!

Then we went to the actual show. It was at 3rd and Lindsley, which was a really awesome venue. We squeezed our way to the front and I sang/screamed/yelled/jumped/danced/sweated my face off.

I no longer have a face. 

I think Jessica is hooked now. It's contagious, that Frank Turner bug.

Ok, I'm stopping with the Frank Turner fan review. Let's talk about my onesie addiction. My name is Sarah and I have a onesie addiction.

If I see a cool, cute, or funny onesie, it will belong to my yet to exist baby. Maybe it's a coping mechanism, maybe I just like to be prepared!

If you hear of a good onesie sale, you know where to find me. Merry Christmas future baby, you are already well dressed.




Well, that's my picture collection for this entry. If you follow us on Instagram: Our Account, you probably have seen most of these already. If you don't - Surprise! Pictures!

It is the Eve of Christmas Eve and I am home alone. John is working, making sure all of you have your ingredients for Christmas dinner. Tomorrow night we will have lasagna and monkey bread and celebrate our Christmas together.

Christmas day we will brunch at my parent's house and marvel at how funny our nephew, Henry, is. How big and smart and wonderful he is. Then we will drive to see John's mom and sister and eat some more, as people do on Christmas. We will chat on the drive up and back about how maybe... just maybe next year there will be three of us. Then hesitate, because maybe not. We don't know.

Tonight though, I am writing for you and for myself. For our future child to know how much we loved him or her before we ever set eyes on our perfect baby.

For now I will watch Love Actually eight times and Bridget Jones' Diary three, maybe four times, because there is no such thing as too much young Collin Firth or too much living abroad in your imagination. I'll wait eagerly for John to get home tonight. To torture him with said chick flicks and spend what is left of this holiday, just the two of us.

The lightning outside seems too close for computer comfort, so I'm signing off. From our hopelessly hopeful family of two to your family, Happy Holidays!

I Am Skinless. I Am Raw.

I am in love with a child I've yet to meet. I am in love with the idea of a child I may never meet. I am terrified of that thought. 

These are the words I tell myself when either someone else we know adopts or a possible match for us falls through:

You are not good enough. You are not pretty, fun, smart, thin, ANYTHING enough. Not enough.

But this is not okay. This is not what teenage me overcame self-esteem issues for, or what a functional adult tells herself. The adoption wait is hard. The longer you wait, the harder it gets. It’s not you! It’s not me or John or anyone for that matter, it just is. 

I hate the word “just”. In our battle with infertility people would often say “just adopt” or “just hire a surrogate”. There is nothing “just” about any of these paths. They are filled with trials, grief, and financial hardship. In this case, I think the word just is acceptable. It just is what it is. It’s a hard pill to swallow. It doesn't make it okay or more tolerable.

We have done all we can outside of hiring a facilitator who will charge us thousands for who knows what level of ethical behavior. We have accounts on just about all social media, I keep this blog, we have networking cards, we redid our letter with a professional designer. Our letter goes out often from IAC due to how open our profile is. Despite our efforts, here we sit two plus years later, waiting.

Wondering if we will ever be parents. 

I know there is nothing wrong with us. (I wrote that and felt a twinge of “but is there?”) No Sarah, stop it. We are young, healthy, fun, educated people. We are ideal for this. We have more love in our pinky fingers for our future child than there is love in the rest of the entire world. 

My heart hurts. Literally. There is a heavy deep ache in my heart where our child belongs. It’s been there since May. I can remember the first moment I felt it- after the nearadoption fell apart. I miss feeling lighthearted. I miss being my goofy self. I’m now serious and solemn. There is a darkness following me around. I miss the person I used to be before I knew this level of grief. My chest hurts and my guts are in a constant state of being twisted. 

I want to call up our agency and beg them for the answers. Tell us what we are missing! Tell us what we can do to make this happen! Tell us the secret to it all! I'm not surviving this and I need answers. (FYI, there are no answers). 

Friends and family don’t know what to say to us anymore. See: What We Need: A Guide if you have that problem. Invitations to events with our friend’s kids are dwindling, because no one wants to hurt us. Honestly, sometimes that’s a good thing. There are days I could snuggle my friend’s kids for hours and then there are days that the thought of being around children makes my entire body ache in longing to be a mom. Nephew excluded- nephew time welcome all day, every day. He makes my heart feel joy and love and all things light and wonderful about the world.

The problem is no one, not even myself knows what version of my adoption world I will wake up to each day. A Facebook post from a friend about her successful adoption (Yay...and cue to the self criticism). It's not under my control. I feel selfish, but it happens without my permission.

I am skinless. I am raw. My nerves are exposed and the world is poking at them with sharp fingernails. I wear my grief on the outside of my body these days. I have cried until I just don’t have any water left in my body to cry.  It’s apparent and ugly and drives people away. Please stay strong for us, please understand it’s not intentional. Please stick around for the end of this, as I believe the finale will be remarkable.

Until you have walked in our shoes, you just don’t know. Until you have wanted something this bad and had it dangled just out of reach, you can’t judge. There is no grief like feeling like you have a hole in your soul that may never be filled.   

This is the point in the daily adoption emotional roller coaster that I feel a little better. I got some stress out by writing this post. Some steam has been let out, I'm letting myself fantasize about "what if". Feeling a little exposed for what all I wrote, but I'll probably publish it anyway, because my goal is to be completely transparent. I'll blast my headphones as I work to drown out my own judgments of myself.  I'll stress about any judgments that may be flung my way and then scream away those judgments to music or maybe just a nice long stress relieving scream in the car. Yes, that would feel good.  

I Am Invincible-ish

Yargh.

It's the pirate's life for me.

No, well, it's the suburban Atlanta life for me. It's that life that mostly suits families with kids. I even bought a four door car. See? Prepared.

Gary and Neal at Carmax in Kennesaw were superb. They even put a bow on it for me. I named her Momo. Stands for Mom Mobile. High hopes, people.

My little Hyundai did me a solid the day I went to trade it in by flashing some warning lights on the dash. It didn't want me to feel bad about kicking it to the curb.

My dad made sure that me parking at Georgia Tech was properly protested. Let's hope no one keys my car over it!

She's roomy, she's got a backseat built for cramming kids in (that's how you do it right? Cram them in?). I'm so on top of this parenting thing. 









I feel like I am at a constant loss for words these days. I know, weird right? It doesn't matter the subject, I sit there and feel like I can't respond. Unless you are arguing with me about whether or not to get the flu shot (don't get me started, but yes, get the flippin flu shot), I feel kinda blank.

I had a really awful phone call from someone the other day. A bait and switch adoption professional. They call and present an expectant mom to match with, but really there is no expectant mom. They want you to pay their insane fee, then after that they will tell you that woman chose another family, but we will match you in mere days "guaranteed!" Yeah, I'm on to you. I am not new to this, I am not uneducated on this.

I admit, I reacted poorly. I was angry. I may or may not have dropped the F bomb loudly at work when I hung up. I may or may not have ranted on my personal Facebook page. I definitely screamed in the car. Well, I definitely did all of those things.

It just feels like you can't trust anyone anymore. Guilty until proven innocent is how it feels sometimes. Every call or email feels like and usually is someone trying to pull one over on you. I've always been very cynical. I'm used to seeing the world through cynical eyes, but adoption has really made me wary of just about everyone. Wary and weary.

I want the world to give us some proof that we can trust people again.

Despite all of the weird things that have happened over the last two years, we are going strong. We have some level of hope at all times that we will be parents before too long.

I'm mailing out our adoption networking pass along cards today and tomorrow. We have nine people in six states willing to pass them along. If you want some, comment or message us. I can send them anywhere in the US. We would so appreciate it! Even if you live down the street from us, we can cover the same territory! Even if you just want one to have our information on hand. I will mail you just one!

Examples of what I have done with them: I hand them to baristas, waiters, our car salesmen, and even coworkers have offered to hand some out. Friends, family, coworkers, strangers... all working for the cause. The cause being "Help build the Farrar family". Love. Love all of you.

Song of the day. This was easily my least favorite song on Frank's new album at first. Now I'm obsessed with it. Obsessed. I know, shocking.

Fire In Our Bellies

"Life is about love, last minutes and lost evenings,
about fire in our bellies and furtive little feelings,
and the aching amplitudes that set our needles all a-flickering,
and help us with remembering that the only thing that's left to do is live" - Frank Turner, I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous


I was driving to work, newly adapting to some adoption news we had just received when this song came on. It's a song I've heard a million times before (possibly literally), but this time these lyrics it hit deep. Why are stalling our lives, stressing over when, where, how and mostly why not?

Waiting to adopt does not involve hitting a pause button of your life. It's about enjoying those little moments between you and your spouse, friends, family, whoever makes your world spin. It's about the silent moments in your home you know will be gone once your baby arrives. It's about running out to meet friends in a moments notice, because well, you still can and definitely should! It's about tacos on patios, funky coffee shops, and 6 mile early morning walks to take in the sights and sounds of the city you love.

It's about readying your home with the perfect rocking chair, buying that hilarious "hangry" onesie and hiding it away in a drawer all washed and ready to be worn by that little soul who will some day make it's way to you.

About going to the consignment sale not knowing who you are buying for and getting whatever you damn well please- boy or girl, gender neutral (in reality, isn't it all gender neutral?), tags on. or used by three other babies.

Take that job offer, even if it means you have to get a new letter for your home study. Take that trip, even though it will take you far away from home while you are on the last minute hospital list. Try something new, revisit something you used to love. Just don't hit pause.

Two years we have waited to adopt. Two years of alternating between calm and anxious. Two years of dreading holidays and birthdays childless again. Two years of feeling rejected when those around us adopt quickly. Two years of wondering why not us?

I want to wonder no more. I want to live my life as if adoption hasn't made me question absolutely everything about my life thus far. I want to go full steam ahead shouting that I am who I am! What you see is what you get! I am breathing in the air around me and feeling the life that it gives.

Record collections. Curling bonpiels. Braves games. Concerts. Laughing with your best friend until you can't see straight. 

This year, I want a giant REAL Christmas tree. Baby or no baby. I want to give presents to everyone I know and wrap them up in gaudy bows. I want to bake 300 Christmas cookies with my sister in law like we did the last couple of years, sneaking sips of Kahlua meant for the recipes, leading to many successes and failures in the kitchen! I want to hear my nephew's Christmas list and his amazing kid views of naughty versus nice. I don't want to wallow in what we don't have, but rather embrace what we are so fortunate to have. 

The one person who will one day find us fabulous enough to raise her child will click with us over something you can't predict- a lifestyle choice, a song, a sports team you have in common, the fact you spew your emotions all over the internet in the form of a blog? Yes? No?

It will happen. It will. It has to, because we've come way too far for it not to.

In the meantime, the only thing that's left to do is live.

All The Feelings: The Feeldoption Process

Who know one person could experience such a range of emotions in such a short time? I'm not even talking about the waking up positive and immediately opening an email from an adoption scammer in Cameroon promising BABIES NOW (really?! so scammy).

I am talking about the emotions you experience throughout the entire adoption wait. It goes like this:

You decide to adopt. There is likely relief that your battle with trying (and failing) to get pregnant is over. You mourn a little, because who doesn't mourn the loss of a part of your body not functioning as it should? You cry, but it honestly feels pretty good. You throw out all of the ovulation tests and pregnancy tests in the house (you think- but somehow those show up on bad days, whilst you are cleaning out the bathroom cabinets). Good timing pee tests...

You go to the weekend intensive session at the agency and it just.feels.so.right. You leave so hopeful, so excited, you are FINALLY going to be a parent.

You start the paperwork for the home study. You might buy one teeny little blanket, because your heart is so full of hope that a baby will be bundled up in it soon. You tear up a little, the good kind of tears, as you pay for the little ducky blanket. Man, you can practically smell the baby poop, that's how close you think you are!

Every step of the home study you complete, you feel accomplished. One step closer to holding that sweet baby. Paperwork..it feels orderly and so very doable. You get to make lists and cross things off- so so satisfying!

Your home study gets completed. Interviews went well, a little nerve wracking, you wonder how that other person's name slipped in and why no matter how much you said you loved your aunts, why it says you aren't close to family... but these things get corrected immediately. A lovely letter and certificate come in the mail proving that both the state and the country find you fit to parent. Party on.

The letter writing process makes you literally roll around on the floor crying out of frustration. Picture after picture is declined. "Smile with your teeth", "Have one of your cats with kids" hahahaha, if they only knew...our cats disappear if a kid is within hearing distance. Trade "our home" for "our house", cut 23 more words. The excited parent-to-be inside you is screaming "please, please, please, just approve it and let us go live".

The letter is done, your official profile is online. With great excitement and fear, you sit with your significant other and write up a Facebook post to announce to your friends that "Yes, we will finally be parents... through adoption!!!!". Your friends offer words of congrats and support. They start spreading the news, eager to help out. It's a love fest. We love them, they love us, we feel warm and safe and determined.

Three months of dead silence. Worries arising, but spirits up. But then a close call. A very sick baby, too many unknowns, and baby's mom wants a closed adoption. Low Apgar scores and some googling and talking to doctor friends. Heartsick, we pass on the situation. The hardest thing ever... so we thought. If we only knew then what we know now.

Boot straps pulled up, you find peace that the sick baby wasn't your baby. Your baby is has yet to be born. Positivity and excitement find you yet again.

Scammy email after scammy email. Even some scammy phone calls. Someone pretending to choose you. Someone you got close to and cared for. Someone who had you picking up the phone to check on them even after the truth came out. Someone who wants to pray for your soul (and also sell you embryos?). At first you laugh it off, saying "people are so weird". Then you cry it off "people are so terrible". Then you get past it "I feel sorry for her that she has the psychological problem that causes her to lie so much".

Drama. Miscarriages, house fires, car fires, drug raids, deaths... or so they say. Your emotions get all wrapped into their lives, but it's all made up. You want to help, but you can't, because it was all made up. You feel for them, but you shouldn't, because it was just someone messing with you. Your faith in the process dwindles. Your faith in humanity wavers. Another hopeful contact turns bad and you are exhausted. You cry, you get mad, you shut down, then you pick yourself up again and move along.

All this time, you have to tell friends and family... "yes, we are still waiting, no there is nothing wrong with us, yes, we could still use your help spreading the word, please don't make me beg for help.. it's just too hard"

The shares on social media slow down. People start avoiding the topic all together at dinners with friends. People have lost interest.

A near match... a neardoption . You were at the top of the world, but then it failed. You got too many hearts involved and therefore too many hearts broke when he wasn't your baby. Not our baby. You swear to never tell another soul about a possible situation again until baby is home for good. So many hearts to protect, but who is protecting yours?

Your adoption friends start getting matched with expectant moms, some adopt practically overnight. The weird feeling of yaaaay....no....yes...no overwhelms you. You sob for the babies that aren't yours. You sob about the expectant moms who chose other waiting adoptive parents over you. You sob until you are heaving, can't see straight, can't hold your eyes open anymore. Then you go out and buy your friend's new baby cute little onesies and hats, because that's what you do right?

And it's healing. Positivity finds you again. If the process worked for them, it will work for us too. They waited longer or almost as long, they had scams, they broke down too- over and over again. They often asked "Why not us?"

You get up the courage to start asking friends to share your adoption info again and it's just dead silence. They've moved on. Your friends are tired of hearing it, their friends are tired of hearing it. Waiting to adopt is so isolating.

Just so isolating.

I'm finding a new normal in this adoption wait. One where I feel like I can't tell my friends and family about how it's going. Good or bad. Good, you risk breaking their hearts when it goes bad. Bad, you just sound like a downer all the time and start alienating everyone.

These days we cope with making ourselves busy. I'm working on my book more, albeit mostly in my head or in jotted down notes. I'm getting these feelings out by singing as loud as possible along to music in the car or shower or even in front of the cats (they love it. so weird). John has curling stuff that keeps him distracted.

We are up, we are down, we are up, we are down. We will be parents one day.

 I'd love to say I'm not posting another Frank Turner song, but I am. For those who care to listen, the man wrote yet another song that is better at expressing how I feel than I am. I know, I'm soooo emo.

Full Throttle

Do you ever just have that burning pit in your chest that nags and nags at you? No, not heartburn, but the deep painful feeling that you get when you have no control over something? That hardcore desire to be moving forward, when you are standing still?

Ever since our failed attempt to adopt last month, my chest has been hurting. Literally hurting. It's no one's fault. Things are what things are. We've had to have so many serious conversations over the last month. Everything from asking ourselves if we need a break, to looking at our budget to try new things- go full on with this. The decision? I think a break would be a set back. We want this more than anything we have ever wanted. We are going full throttle with this adoption.

Past fears have kept us from using more profile sites or making videos, and asking more people for help getting the word out. There is fear that we will lose hard earned money, fear that our friends and family will think that we are asking too much, and fear that putting ourselves out there more will only bring in more people trying to scam us. The thing is, we can't live in fear any longer.

The Plan

We have a video in the works! I'm going to put my two semesters of grad school experience to the test by making an adoption video. It's another way for people considering adoption to see who we are when we aren't just motionless images and typed words.

We are on Adoptimist again! See our profile here: https://www.adoptimist.com/adoption-parent-profile/7849

We are going to open this blog up to guest posts from friends and family (and possibly even strangers)! If you are a friend or family member or associated with adoption in some way and want to write a bit about us, adoption, yourself, whatever- as long as it is related in some way, email us a submission at sarahandjohnadopt@gmail.com .

We are going to keep passing out our pass along cards! If you want some, contact us through one of the 4 million ways to contact us on this blog! I gave one to my barista this morning at the coffee shop. Nothing but smiles and encouragement from her! It never hurts to network.

The Scoop

Our home study renewal home visit is the 20th! Phew, such relief.

We are going on vacation! A couple of days in Washington DC and then to see one of our very best friends in Philadelphia. We have missed her intensely since her and her family moved away from Atlanta! It's been over a while since we saw them and her son is already 4! FOUR! Cannot believe it. I remember seeing him when he was just hours old!

The Thanks

You know, my mind is constantly blown at the amount of support we get in this process. So, thanks for reading, commenting (love comments!), emailing, sympathizing, sometimes even just cussing along with us at the hard stuff. We love you guys.

Gratitude

First on the agenda, I am doing #100daysofgratitude over on our adoption Instagram account https://instagram.com/johnandsarahadopt/ . I'm really trying to embrace all of the wonderful things we have, rather than what we don't have. Follow along for those elusive rainbows I always speak of.

Secondly, the kidney walk was a moderate success! I say moderate only because Team Walking Beans didn't raise nearly as much as we usually do for the National Kidney Foundation. I think we raised somewhere around $525 when all was said and done. We usually raise at least twice that. I guess every cent helps to raise awareness and provide assistance to kidney patients. All in all though, a good walk! We went to the Atlanta Food Truck Park after with the whole team. Crepes, King of Pops (if you are in Atlanta and haven't had KOP, you must RUN, not walk to the closest KOP stand!) and family fun!

Team Walking Beans- Minus me and my brother's family

Our nephew has been doing the kidney walk every year since he was about 6 months old! Teach them early to be caring and giving!

We are best friends forever!

So adoption news... that is what everyone is here for right? Well, I do believe we have completed ALL of our home study renewal documents! Phew! It's like climbing a mountain. Now we will have to have someone come out to the house and do a home visit. We are getting used to these things and are actually looking forward to having our adoption counselor out to the house. We couldn't ask for a better person to work with!

In other adoption news, we are still waiting! I know, shocking. Oh boy, this wait is killer. Seeing your friends adopt before you and seeing everyone posting pregnancy announcements on Facebook (or whatever your social media guilty pleasure may be) can feel so personal. It's totally not, but it sure feels that way sometimes. It is a really weird to place to be in mentally- to be happy for someone while feeling really just sad for yourself. Some days I see an announcement and I'm all "ooooh babies!" and other times it sends me straight back to bed for the day. That is how up and down this process is.

On to happier things. Oh wait, I was going to bring up Game of Thrones...not so happy right now! Or ever! Amiright?! Did anyone watch Sunday night? I think Waffles sums up what I looked like whilst watching:

Ok, enough of the ramblings. We are trying to be ever hopeful. We are trying to carry on as if we could be parents any day now, all while knowing we might not be!. The struggle is so real you guys, but it's not like John and I haven't overcome struggles in our lives. We will get through it!

And now music, because it's my blog and I can do what I want! This song is beautiful! If you haven't see this movie, it is a must see. Best.soundtrack.ever. A favorite in our house.

What? I Can't Hear You!

I admittedly have had a really hard time coming up with meaningful posts lately- or any posts at all actually. This post will be neutral... I think...I just feel we need an update here. Something to keep this thing going. Writing through the struggle!

Here is a tale of an ear drum exploding. My ear drum. It all goes back to renewing our home study. You see, back in February I decided that my internal medicine doctor was not a good fit for me and may or may not have stormed out yelling or crying or a combination of both. That's what happens when a doctor thinks she knows me more than I know myself. Long story.

This means I had no regular doctor to do my physical for my home study. I called probably 20 doctors of all varieties with a bunch of "no's" unless you are already a patient there. Finally, thanks to a friend in the adoption wait, I found an urgent care facility who would do it. An urgent care facility where I would pick up one.nasty.bug.

About 6 hours after leaving the appointment I had a fever, chills, aches, extreme fatigue and a sore throat. Three days later all of those issues subsided and my ears started hurting. Within about 8 hours of ear pain, my left ear drum ruptured. Might I say it exploded? Yeah, it did. It was awful and gross and intensely painful. Nearly 3 weeks later it no longer sounds like a hurricane in there, but my hearing is still a little off.

It's like being in a fog. A silent, but not totally silent, more like wind tunnel sounding fog. Too tired to write or keep up with renewing home study documents. I finally found my way out of the fog though.

You guys... I had to go to a Frank Turner show with a bum ear! A Frank Turner show! With a bum ear! Anyone shocked that I still had the time of my life? I so did. Two hours of Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls in the middle of the night? Count me in!

Anyway. I got thrown off for nearly 3 weeks. Illness, bum ear drum, allergies from hell. But hopefully I'm back up and writing. Darn the home study renewal. Nearly made me deaf...

I can't even tell you if we have adoption updates. It's still such a weird process. Movement, then no movement. Nothing, then fast forward, then stall out. Hurry up and wait.

I've been day dreaming a lot about the beach. That is probably going to need to happen ASAP.  Unless our baby come to us first, then beach next year. Please universe, please! Yep, I am down to begging the powers that be. Just let this work out.

I know come Thursday, I need a little pick me up to get through the last couple days of work. For this reason, I present to you:

Death Metal Mary Poppins. Enjoy.