adoption update : the words I can say

Consider this as me "talking about it."  Because even though this is public and not a personalized one-on-one conversation, this is the best I can and want to do right now.  It's just easier to tell everyone "all at once" instead of re-telling it over and over.

Wednesday 2/12 at 5p I was leaving work when Colin called.  He said, "Happy Valentine's Day, oh wait, that's Friday right?  Well, Happy early Valentine's Day to us!  We were blind profiled and she chose us.  The baby is due Friday!  I'll tell you everything when you get home.  Drive safe, love you!"

After months of hearing nothing, we were profiled without even knowing about it (hence the term, blind.  Basically it means that instead of calling us with the case first, they send out profiles and then inform you afterwards).  Not only that, but she had picked us!  What a wonderful feeling to hear that all at once!  I got home, and Col told me everything.  So many things lined up. 

The baby was a boy.  Many had asked me if we would use our girl name again and without a doubt we plan to.  I have loved that name since college and there is no way I can let it go that easily.  Plus, the child who we had been matched with in October does not carry it, so why not?  However, I had told everyone that I now hope our first adoption is a boy so that I can put some space and time between the failed match and name. 

The birthmom had felt drawn to our profile so much that as she looked through others she kept coming back to ours and the thing that finalized her decision was that she had been thinking of the name Zack for the baby, and since my brother's name is Zack, she took that as another connection.  She lives in NYC, and I felt like since opening up to out of state we were saying we were willing to travel, therefore it felt like God was saying, "Ok, here you go!" (even though NYC was always an option). 

We chose (didn't take much!) to accept the case and called our parents and siblings.  We decided this time that even though we were very excited and it was hard to keep the information in, we wanted to wait to tell everyone else once everything happened, once the papers were signed and we had the baby in our arms, because we knew much more this time around how quickly things can change.  The next day I called the agency, and they said they would be in touch.  We told our employers and tried to stay calm and be productive at work.  Thursday afternoon we had an update that they could not get a hold of her and that she was in the hospital.  She had false labor a month ago, so they weren't sure if she was in active labor or not.  Time passed, and Friday morning we hadn't heard anything.  I was getting extremely anxious and decided to call the agency to check in.  Unfortunately, they hadn't heard anything but would leave another message with the NYC social worker.  Because birthmom was in the hospital and no one had a direct way to contact her, the social worker there was having to call the hospital and leave a message with them.  The hospital in turn could only tell her so much due to privacy laws, and so we just had to wait.  We left work Friday evening with only this news: the hospital confirmed that it was active labor and that she had relatives come visit her.  The agency said they would call us over the weekend as soon as they heard anything, but that if not, they would touch base later.

As I'm sure you can tell where this is going, we (and the agency) never heard back from her.  We had to just come to terms with the fact that we have once again had a failed match.  That is two adoption miscarriages that we have been through, and I'm not sure how many more I can take (well, I just don't want to have to deal with any more).  The sad part is, how will I be able to be excited someday when we are matched again?  All I'll be thinking about is that they've failed before, and the next one can just as easily.

Right now, I wonder how any adoptions ever happen or work at all. 
(It's true - take a minute to truly think about how hard it is for birthparents to make an adoption plan for their babies.  To have so much love for another human being that you choose to go through 9 months of pregnancy, painful labor and delivery, and immense heartache as you give them to another family so that they can have a different life.  I don't think I could ever be so brave.)
Right now, I'm trying so hard to trust and hope.
Right now, I'm fighting my bitterness, questioning, and "why us?" attitude.
Right now, I'm thankful that I have my faith and my Lord standing beside me, because even so I'm struggling.

Somewhere out there, is a 4 month old baby girl that I love.
Somewhere out there, is a newborn baby boy that I love.
Somewhere out there, someday, will be a baby that we will get to love in our lives forever.

But right now, I don't want to hear it.  I know it, deep down, I remind myself of it, I listen as family and friends reassure me of it, but I'm tired.  I'm tired of this roller coaster of emotions that always seems to crash at the end.  I'm tired of being "strong," of having more heartache piled on.  I just want to adopt.

But we know, adoption isn't easy.  Even when it works, it's not easy.  And it's lifelong, and we have to get used to that.  I just wish, that something, for once, would work for us with the whole having-children-thing.  Because we are surrounded by the most fertile people I know, who get pregnant on the first try or without trying, and even though I absolutely want to adopt and picture that for our family, can it just happen already?!  Why must we agonize and wait for a child?

As we lay in bed the other night, my husband said to me, "You know how you said you don't know how many more you can take?  Well, you can't give up.  You can be sad, but you can't give up.  Because if you do, we'll never have children."  And so, in the wise words of my strong hubby, we aren't giving up.  But we are weary and wary as we move forward once more.

I ask for your prayers.  Pray for peace, for comfort, for hope and faith.  Pray for our wait, as we once again embark on it.