It was just about 3 ½ years ago that O and I started “trying” to have a baby. After several unsuccessful months, we sought help from a reproductive endocrinologist and when that didn’t feel right for us, we moved on to trying to adopt through the state.
3 1/2 years
In the grand scheme of things that isn’t a long time until you factor in that we’ve been “doing this” for well over half of our marriage, that when we started I was in my late 30’s and am now firmly entrenched in my 40’s, and that my dear sweet husband who was in his mid-40’s is now fast approaching 49.
I’ve begun to wonder recently if we’re not soon coming to the end of this “in pursuit of a child” chapter of our lives.
If you read back through this blog, I’m sure you’ll see twenty places where I am “DONE!” “almost DONE!” or “fed up and this close to being DONE!”
This feels different.
It’s not about yet another screw-up with our home study. (Although oy vey people.)
It’s not a self-protection thing, where I feel the need to bail out before I get hurt again.
It’s not even that this is such a painful situation I can no longer be immersed in it any longer.
In part, it’s about how long I want to continue to live in this limbo. How long do I continue to put pieces of my life on hold waiting for something that truly may never happen?
If I was 25, or even 30, the answer would probably be “a long time yet”. I’d probably have a standing appointment with the RE every week.
But I’m not. We’re not.
We got a call today for a foster placement. Two babies. Lots of legal complications but ultimately, probably no chance of being able to adopt them. Normally I’d fret and stew about it, not wanting to upset our SW or leave the impression that we’re uncooperative or unhelpful by saying “no”. But this time, when O walked out on the porch and explained the situation, my answer was an easy and unqualified “no”.
Part of that is my desire for the out-of-state babies I’ve told you about. I've fallen hard and would love nothing more than to drive to that state, scoop them up, and bring them home tonight. So I guess in a funny way, I’m “saving myself” for them for the next couple of months to see how things play out.
But the other reason why I so readily said “no” to today's foster situation, and why I wonder if we're not approaching the end of this journey is this:
I often find myself asking if it’s still worth it to me to invite the potential chaos and heartache of the foster system into our mostly-peaceful, mostly-lovely little lives.
Two years ago, it was definitely worth it. Heck yes! Sign me up! I was hell bent on it.
One year ago, it was still worth it but my enthusiasm had waned significantly after months of being jerked around about our home study.
Now, I just don’t know. I really don’t. (What I do know is that I am always going to say “no” to a situation where we are told going in that we’ll definitely come out the other side without a child permanently in our home.)
The ironic part is that I think D*C*F*S may have given me too much time to educate myself – to read books and articles and blogs written by people who have chosen the path I was once willing to race blindly down. I remember thinking during our foster/adopt classes how they really laid things on the line and shared some really hard truths with us.
And they did.
But damn. I had NO idea. I once couldn’t even have conceived of things I see adoptive parents write about every day.
A foster/adoptive mommy blogger I respect recently wrote that genetics trump environment 99.9% of the time. Now, is she a scientist studying the lives and behaviors of foster children over time? No. Does she have pages of statistics on foster and adoptive children at her fingertips? I doubt it. Her knowledge comes from A LOT of old-fashioned, homegrown experience – experience you can only get from raising and loving children you didn’t give birth to. Her words were definitely food for thought for me.
Is the risk one I’m still willing to take? My answer is no longer the resounding “yes” is once was, but it’s still “yes”. I don’t know for how much longer, though. I really don’t. It just feels like it’s all winding down for me.
That being said, I reserve the right to change my mind and get completely excited, enthusiastic, and wound back up again at a moment's notice . . . . . . . even before hitting the “publish” button on this post.
