This morning I woke up slowly, snuggling under the covers for just a few more minutes of solitude. Then I remembered the e-mail we received from Mia’s supervisor. A “punch in the stomach” moment is such a lovely way to start the day, don’t you think?
I am at a loss as to what to do next. Perhaps it’s simply time to come to terms with the fact that I may never be a mom. I am fighting the urge to go into our “child’s room” (what a joke!) and box up all the books, games, toys, and decorations, disassemble the crib and return it to my SIL, and make the room back into a guest room. It hurts me every time I walk by it.
I am so angry.
I am angry that the woman who stands directly between us and parenthood couldn’t care less whether we become parents.
I am angry that Mia has treated us, our case, and our concerns with complete disregard.
I am angry that Mia still hasn’t responded to the e-mail we sent her. Who behaves like that? Truly?
I am angry that the county offers no alternative for switching workers, even in a situation as ludicrous as this.
I am angry that the supervisor didn’t call my husband as he requested, and still didn’t answer the question re: whether our paperwork was sent on April 21st.
I am angry that we are in a situation where another person gets to decide whether we’re “good enough” to be parents in the first place. It’s humiliating.
I am angry that as I’ve wasted almost a year of my life on adopting through the foster system as I’ve moved from my 30’s to my 40’s, dramatically increasing that chances that IF treatments won’t work and that I’d have a baby with a birth defect.
I am angry that we’re too old to adopt internationally, and that we likely wouldn’t be considered for a domestic adoption situation because of our ages.
I am angry that my nephew’s graduation is this weekend and that I’ll be surrounded by a stadium full of proud parents, knowing that I’ll probably never experience anything like that.
I am angry that at the pre-graduation cookout at my SIL’s house, there will be a family member there with a newborn. BTW, this is the family member who was all chat-chat-chatty with me re: her IF issues until she got pregnant. I never heard another word from her after that.
I am angry that I planned a Saturday evening BBQ at our home for friends in town for graduation. There will be a 4-year-old, 2 – 2-year-olds, and a lot of questions about how “that whole foster/adoption thing” is going.
I am angry that I’ve been on the verge of tears all morning yet I can’t seem to cry.
I could go on and on, but that really gets me nowhere. Perhaps I’ll channel all this anger into cleaning my house. It’s one of my favorite things to do when I’m upset.
