Written on May 21, 2014

Written on May 21, 2014

10 more days until we can make an announcement. But people won’t be seeing pictures of Adele on the internet for 6-9 more months. THIS IS KILLING ME AND HARDER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE.

It’s May 21 today and the birth mother has until May 31 to change her mind. After that time, even though we can’t post or share pictures of Adele, at least I can mention her. At least I can share pictures of the nursery. At least I can share pictures of her beautiful clothes and books and toys. I just want people to know: it could be another 6-9 months before you see Adele online.

If you give me your address I will mail you a picture. But nothing online. It’s hard to constantly explain that to people, that even after the 30 days, you still can’t see Adele. Come visit the house, FaceTime, whatever. We are getting visitors almost every day and I am FaceTime’ing friends and family multiple times a day. I want the world to see my gorgeous angel.

And it’s not like we’re worried about the birth mother changing her mind. It’s just the rules. She has 30 days. After the 30 days she can’t change her mind. What if we make an announcement and she changes her mind? That’s our thought process.

But I guess none of that matters. It’s about me being home with her all day. It’s about our time together, her as a newborn, me as a learning, growing new mother.

The little milestones, like her looking in the baby mirror or grabbing my finger when she has her bottle. I’ll never forget these precious moments. It’s so hard though, because we haven’t SET on this yet. This isn’t final. Not the baby that’s been living in our house since April 28. Not the pink and lamb nursery. Not the Amazon registry. Not the family and friends who have visited and brought her gifts and just love her more than words could describe. Nothing is SET.

Yet we love her and move forward and live with her and prepare our lives with her. I’m still not understanding the strength of adoptive parents. This is the hardest thing we’ve done (by choice.)

I can’t just enjoy being a new mom and I can’t just enjoy these precious newborn moments and I can’t just be tired and stressed and tense over caring for a newborn. I have to be tired and stressed and tense going through the adoptive process. Of making sure her photo stays off the internet. I can’t JUST BE a new mom and can’t JUST HAVE a baby.

Or can I? And should I? Am I doing it wrong? Am I wrong to not want to do this in secret, in silence?

As I told Dr. Kelly, when we decided to pursue adoption, we chose to not have a choice. We chose this large black boiling pot where we just threw in our decisions and choices. We chose not to have a choice. When she would be born, if and when she would be ours, who she would be, what she would look like, and WHEN. When she would come into our lives and how.

We chose to give up choice.

And sometimes I cry when she cries because I’m so frustrated.

And sometimes I’ll have headaches that last two days.

And sometimes I’ll be amazed that I’m a mom and how good of a job I’m doing.

And sometimes I’m shocked at how not upset I am that our kitchen is chaotic.

And sometimes I know her eating schedule and how much to feed her and when, and just when I thought I’ve figured it out, it all changes. And bottles are wasted. Bottles are washed and bottles are wasted. And when I think she wants 2 oz she wants 4. Or 1. I never have it right.

And sometimes she lays on my chest early in the morning and it is the best feeling in the world, her breathing on me, her tiny little soft black hairs tickling my neck and chin. And her arms extend around me and she breathes so deeply, like my chest is the only place she wants to be in the world.

And sometimes I cry because I’m so tired. And sometimes I cry because I don’t know why I’m crying. And sometimes I cry because I’m happy. And sometimes I cry because we still have 10 days of this.

And sometimes I cry because I shouldn’t be waiting until May 31. But who could blame me? Who could blame me?

Since April 13 life as I’ve known it has changed. There’s being a new mom. There’s caring for an infant for the first time. There’s the learning and the exhaustion and the doubt and the love. And there’s the adoption process. And there’s the rules. And who could blame me?

All I know, and all that matters, is that it was always Adele. She is our meant to be. She is G-d’s gift for us, G-d’s perfect little plan, one we could have never guessed or imagined or prepared for. G-d knew all along.

He knew, as soon as we had the new house and as soon as I was healthy and as soon as Sean was training for Tour de Pink and as soon as I was training for my first half marathon and as soon as we had our careers in full swing and our travel plans made and as soon as that trip to Ireland was booked in August and soon as we were “definitely not ready” he gave us Adele.

It’s that choice, those choices, we threw into a pot to be handled by someone other than ourselves. Some higher power. We threw them in, knowing full well the journey that lay before us. Or not knowing full well, but knowing it would be hard. Knowing it would be a journey. But that our stone would find its place on our path.

And some way, somehow, it was always Adele.

And these days, these 30 days, and these next 6-9 months and these court dates and these post-placement visits. They don’t matter. We have a daughter. She is home with us.

And I’m a mom.

I can’t believe I’m a mom. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe it was always Adele.