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.

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.  

Any Time Now, Universe!

This post was inspired by a friend I met through our agency. This morning she shared a post from a year ago.

Shared with permission.

Just last night John and I had a conversation about Christmas. How its four months away, but it seems like there is no hope for us to adopt before then. It was a 30 second conversation, yet it felt so heavy.

We are basing our view of the future based on the past, but no one can really know what the next four months hold for us. 

Our last adoption situation that fell through happened so fast. It went from watching TV, not expecting to do anything but sleep that night, to calling the after hours answering service for our agency in mere minutes. I certainly didn't sleep that night! Of course, that situation didn't work out and that's fine. It did in fact give us hope and remind us how quickly life can change.

But it's so easy to lose sight of that. When day after day goes by with no inquiries about us- no emails, texts Facebook messages, nothing. No calls from our agency asking "Can you get to (insert town/hospital here) ASAP?" Not a peep. Unless you count "Lung" who wants to "do a project with us". Real email. That was all it said. Thanks, but no thanks Lung.

But look at what a difference a year can make for a fellow waiting adoptive family (now a family of three!). Weeks before they were matched with their daughter's birth mom, Chelsea and I were messaging each other wondering if it would ever happen for either of use. Wondering what we could do to move this along. She didn't have to wonder much longer.

There is hope. At any time, that could be us. 

This has not been my favorite part of life. The waiting, the longing, the ups and downs- it's all just so incredibly stressful. Talking to friends and remembering how life was before this undying urge to be a mom kicked in, it makes you long for those days. When your biggest worry was who you are going to hang out with that weekend or what coworker is giving you grief at work.

It's not easy, but I can't help but think it will be worth it. When adoption friends post pictures of their longed after children, or relay stories of how they met the children's birth parents, or "firsts" of everything being parents- it's all giving me the energy to keep at it. Yes, your stories of diaper blow-outs somehow still encourage me to stay the course.

Here we sit, still waiting, still trying to pass the time. I'm back in grad school, trying to make something more of myself and John is about to start curling again. John is also looking forward to football season. It's not really my thing (I know, don't judge me!). We will hit two years live with our agency next month, many more years than that trying to become parents. We will mourn it, even though it will appear to just be a day like any other. You have to mourn things to get past them.

Here's hoping our lives change in an instant too, preferably tomorrow? next week? Universe, are you listening? 

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.

The Beginning Of Something Good

I have been dealing with quite the dilemma.

You see, I truly believe that you get back what you put out into the world. It's a real issue, because I think I've mainly been sending out frustration and grief. I'm so frustrated with the adoption process and I know John and I have had to grieve for many situations that fell through or were revealed to be fake. It's so easy to let those feelings dominate your life.

Quite honestly though, isn't it easier to be happy and positive than to wallow in anger and self pity? Isn't it more fun to laugh than to cry? Isn't life too short to let stuff get you this down?

Now to figure out how to push the positive to the forefront.

First off, more distraction. More concerts, movies, museums please. More nights out with friends, more playing with our nephew. More food truck evenings and lazy strolls around the neighborhood.

This is hanging on our fridge to remind us:

I have people say all the time that I need to be more positive, or I need to put on a front of happiness for prospective birth mothers who might read this blog. To those people I want to tell them that they haven't experienced the things we have in this process. That the adoption wait can steal the light right out of you if you let it. Well, I let it. I let it steal my light, my optimism, my self confidence. Ridiculous.

Nothing and no one should be able to steal the light from within you. So here it is: I'm on a mission to get myself back. I'm sending love and light and confidence into this world of ours. I'm taking back control of this situation and no emotional scammer or failed placement will stop me. It's time to look at these things as learning opportunities, as steps to creating our family.

It's not that things wont be hard. It's not that we wont still feel some level of defeat if we speak with another emotional scammer or have another close call. It really is just a matter of re-framing it all in our heads. We are at 22 months waiting and counting. In the scheme of things, 22 months or even two years isn't all that long. People wait much much longer than that.

We also have to remember that we are not the only ones struggling with adoption. It is likely that the woman who chooses us to parent her child is facing much more than we are. It's important to remember that. It's all perspective. The best thing we can do is to stay strong for her, our future child and ourselves.

I'm going to find the light in all of this.

There is hope again.

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.

Hits And Misses: A Story of a Neardoption

I've been told by more than one person that I don't put enough of a positive spin on this blog. Problem being, I am trying to keep it real and keeping it real means showing how desperately hard our path to parenthood has been.

I have had my venti cup of liquid encouragement (I'll take mine with cream, no sugar if anyone is picking up!), so here goes my Tuesday truths and with some rainbows and maybe a passing unicorn for what really could have been the hardest adoption week yet.

This is my therapy post. Releasing it and moving on to us really finding Baby Farrar.

We had a neardoption (my new word). I wont give details, because the who's and how's are noneya business. I'll just say it lasted a week, an intense "oh crap our home study docs are expiring" sort of week. An "oops we never quite bought everything we need to bring baby home" sort of week. And mostly a "who the heck do we tell? work? family? friends?" sort of week. Breathe in, breathe out.

Anyway, it ended. I had a gut feeling towards the second to last day. I gave my tension and anxiety over it up to the adoption powers that be and tried to relax. Got the call the next day that he would not be our baby, leaked a few tears in the car, ate ice cream for dinner like two nights in a row, had some times with friends and then hung out with my brother for distraction purposes (there may have been a Monday Night Brewery, Drafty Kilt mixed in there somewhere- local brewery, dark beer, my fav occasional treat). And I bought this for my ever growing onesie collection:

Because hangry is my favorite word.

I had to be the one to break it to John, which I dreaded more than anything. He was at work when I got the call. He was delayed getting home and I was texting him that he was needed ASAP. Then in my lack of thinking, I sent " I have some really bad news" to him over text. Insta-regret. Not cool, Sarah. Of course he knew what said news was. You know when John is upset, because he sighs heavily at random. He isn't one to get angry or cry. It's just a lot of silence with random sighs chucked in there. Saturday John busied himself with yard work. We both did really, but he did the bulk of it. We spent a fortune on mulch and new shrubs, since ours died over the last two winters.

We are trying cardboard as weed barrier. Free and biodegradable

 We emotionally shopped and bought a seven foot "beanbag" type chair thingy out of just wanting to feel better. Darn you Amazon Prime! Now, where to put it? Maybe in the music room? For record listening? Like, it's massive and not really grown-up life compatible. That's a story for another day.

Seriously, what have we done?

So, where are we now? Back to waiting of course! We are truckin' on. Hopes high and spirits blazing. I mean, we had a legit contact! That's something! We know that even though we really would have loved for this baby to be ours, he is with his family and that is beautiful too.  

In other news, Brew at the Zoo is this weekend. I will be that crazy 35 year old who rides the carousel 20 times (Free rides with entry fee to the event!). We have been going every year to celebrate my brother's birthday. It is tons of fun and you get to sample beer from local breweries, while seeing zoo animals! What? Yes! Next weekend if the National Kidney Foundation Kidney Walk. Our team is um...bare.. this year. We haven't raised nearly as much as we usually do. I have admittedly been super distracted. To donate or join and walk with us follow this Linky Dinky Doo 

You don't have to be our BFF to join us. We will be happy to have anyone. You can walk as little or as much as you want while supporting a great cause. Speaking of kidneys, next month I celebrate five years with my second kidney transplant! All thanks to my brother for being kind enough to pop one out and give it to me (if only it was that simple!). There will be some sort of celebration. June is also the month I had my first transplant in 1999, thanks to my mom. There will also be some sort of commemoration of that! Maybe I just like to celebrate things, ok? 

I leave you with another picture of Earl Nutters Esq., the office squirrel. He found himself a rice crispy treat! Get it Earl!