I remember during the worst of my divorce–when I was staying with my parents and collapsing into a heap of tears at frequent and unprovoked intervals–sitting on the sofa sobbing. My mother patting my back, and saying over and over, “I just wish there was something I could do to help.” Thing is, she was helping. She was there, sitting with me and my grief, letting the grief take up as much or as little room as it needed in any given moment. She never told me how to feel, she never ran away, she just met me right where I was. And I didn’t appreciate at the time what a beautiful and rare gift that was.

You see, my mother knows grief. And once you know grief, you can never unknow it. You can hide from it, you can avoid it, you can try to prevent it, but you never erase the marks it has left on your heart. And being with someone who is grieving can be really difficult and painful, because it’s almost impossible to experience another person’s grief fully without being visited by at least a shadow of your own.

So, while we have managed to find a pretty peaceful time in our adoption wait, my shadowy grief visits. I hold my friends close to my heart. I am filled with gratitude for all the places my own grief has led me. And I ponder what might have been, and what might still be.

The biggest thing I have learned during my recent struggle with the adoption wait is that deep down, I had made a decision I wasn’t even aware of–a decision to freeze our lives in place until the baby came. During my recent struggles with the wait, I learned that I wasn’t actually struggling with waiting–I was struggling with feeling like I wasn’t allowed to change certain things, no matter how much they bothered me.

A tiny example: I had decided not to use any vacation time until the baby came. After my week off during the holidays, I figured it was smart to save up my time for maternity leave, since I don’t get any paid parental leave at my job. While this decision was practical, it was also very constraining. When I started to feel like I needed a break at work or a fun trip to look forward to, I ended up getting frustrated about the adoption wait. Using up that vacation time and getting an adoption placement were tied together in my mind.

Now, I’ve realized that the adoption wait doesn’t actually have to be tied into anything else in our lives, other than having a child. If I want some time away from the office, I can plan a vacation. Sure, it will shorten my maternity leave later, but I’m not letting that hold me back. If I feel like I need to scale back on commitments that are beyond what I can take on right now, I can just do that. I don’t need to use a baby as an excuse–I can just say no. Like a grownup.

This realization is liberating. And terrifying. But I can already tell that it has taken an enormous amount of pressure off the adoption. And suddenly, I don’t feel impatient. I feel the rush of possibility. I feel excited, engaged in the moment, open to whatever the future might hold. And I feel grateful for the wait and the struggle that has led me to this epiphany.

1. Acknowledging that the wait is hard. I’m such a perfectionist sometimes, and I often put an expectation on myself that I should be able to sail through all of life’s challenges without ever feeling like it’s hard. So, I’m trying to acknowledge to myself and others that this wait is hard, and that’s okay. It doesn’t have to feel easy, and I don’t have to make it look easy.
2. Reaching out to friends. We are very public about our adoption plans, which means we have access to lots of love and support from family and friends. To access that love and support, all I need to do is reach out. Sometimes, I reach out to say I’m having a hard time and need cheering up. Other times, I reach out to provide support or check on a friend or just have fun together. Whether or not we’re actually discussing my struggles with the adoption wait, I end up feeling better by connecting with friends.
3. Reading other’s success stories. One of my friends that I stalk follow through blogs and Twitter just had a baby placed with her after a long wait. Another one is at the beginning of a match. Sometimes, it can be tough to rejoice in other people’s successes while you are left waiting. But it helps me to remember that just because I feel like it’s never going to happen doesn’t mean it’s never going to happen. If it happened for them, it will happen for us, too.
4. Running. Yes, I started running again. After attempting a more advanced training schedule, feeling intimidated, and ultimately avoiding running as a result, I just bit the bullet and started Couch to 5K over from the beginning. I get a special sense of accomplishment from running, and it really does help reduce stress.
5. Working. I’m in the middle of two big and crazy work projects right now. And, while I’m not sure that’s really helping my overall stress level, it definitely takes my mind off the adoption. It’s great to work on projects that require my full attention because the work really crowds all of the adoption thoughts out of my head, and I need that break sometimes.
6. Sleeping Later. One of my least favorite things about winter is having to wake up in the dark. It seriously fills me with dread before I’m even out of bed. Not a good way to start the day! This week, I started setting my alarm an hour later, which lets me sleep in until after sunrise. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep it up, since it throws off my routine in other ways, but it was a good temporary fix during an extra tough week.
7. Practicing Gratitude. I’m not doing anything formal, but I’m trying to remind myself to be grateful for one thing every day. It’s such a small and powerful thought exercise, and it really helps shift me out of the “woe is me” perspective.
8. Focusing on Today. When I start to feel overwhelmed by the wait, I take a deep breath and remind myself that I don’t need to worry about what’s going to happen tomorrow. I only need to make it through today. And today is always doable, even when it’s hard.
9. Practicing Letting Go. I’m not expertly skilled at going with the flow. While I don’t consider myself to be an extreme control freak, my nature leans toward planning and controlling over experiencing and reacting. My second-hand knowledge of parenting tells me that having a little practice in patience, flexibility, and letting go of control will serve me well down the road.
10. Realizing that the Worst Case isn’t so bad. WORST CASE SCENARIO: we don’t adopt a baby. While that would be heartbreaking and would require some pretty major adjustments on our part, I am confident that we would survive it, both as individuals and as a couple. I don’t know what our life will look like if our adoption efforts don’t succeed, but I do know that if that happens, we’ll figure it out together.

We’re having a wide range of conversations. How long will we wait? When will we give up? What would giving up look like? Would we pursue another type of adoption, or would we live child free? What would living child free look like for us? How many agencies will we sign up with? Should we consider using one of those expensive law firms that practically guarantees a match? How far are we willing to go?

In the meantime, we still don’t know what’s happening with V. It’s unlikely that she’ll choose to place with us, but I just can’t seem to let go of the possibility just yet. And we still don’t know what’s happening with that situation J told us about before Christmas.

Last week, we went live with our second agency. We’re in the process of applying with a third agency. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by everything we’re not doing. There’s always another agency to apply to, another situation to follow up on, another email to send to ask friends and family to spread the word and keep us in mind. And the more I engage, the more pressure I feel to do more, and more, and more. But I’m scared to disengage, because if this ultimately doesn’t work out for us, I want to be able to walk away knowing that I did absolutely everything I could to make it work.

It’s a hard to find the sweet spot in this balancing act. We want to have a baby. Obviously. But we want other things, too. We want to be morally and ethically comfortable with our choices. We want to survive the adoption financially. We want to be able to enjoy our time together now. We want to feel like we can function, and not just curl up in a ball with a blanket over our heads until this is over. And, as always, I want to feel like I’m doing a good job waiting.

Right now, I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job. But I’m doing the best I can, and for now, I’m just going to keep doing it.

Chris and I have done all we can do for right now to make our dream of becoming parents a reality. We have put our deepest desire out to the universe, both practically and metaphysically, and the ultimate result of our search is completely out of our hands. That’s not to say that we’re going to throw up our hands and do nothing. We are finalizing our profile with our second agency, we are actively networking on Facebook and Twitter, we are keeping our website up to date with our most recent photos, and we have a plan for what to do next to continue to increase our chances of finding a match.

I have done all I can do to make peace with my infertility and loss. Sure, things come up now and again, and I have down days. The first anniversary of my original due date is fast approaching, but I really haven’t been tempted to dwell on the “what if’s” of that. I have some friends who are expecting or who have recently had babies, and I find that I’m not jealous. I don’t envy them. I don’t have to wish it were my turn, because I know I will never be pregnant. And that feels oddly okay to me.

I have been working hard on my health. Although I’m home sick with some minor digestive issues today, I have been really healthy overall. I could eat better, I could exercise more, I could stand to lose about 30 pounds–but I don’t feel obsessed with reaching a weight goal. I’m finally in a place where, while I wish I were thinner, it’s more important to me to know that I’m maintaining a healthy and sustainable lifestyle than to see the weight melt off.

Chris and I have been working hard on our finances. We’re tracking every penny, saving for retirement, saving for adoption, saving for my unpaid maternity leave, saving for unforeseen emergencies, and just generally being frugal. And kind of enjoying it. We are both data geeks, and we love to review our budget reports, check our stats, and try to keep improving. Weird, I know, but it works for us.

I have come out of the little cave I built up after my miscarriage, and I have been in much better touch with many of my dear friends. Lots of room for improvement in this area, but I’m heading in the right direction.

If I were to make one resolution for 2012, it would be this: just keep going. Keep carving out a path to adoption, even though it might never happen. Keep breathing, keep letting go. Keep appreciating what the here and now has to offer, whether that’s a delicious meal, a satisfying run, or the luxury of relaxing in bed for a day due to a stomach bug. Keep making oatmeal, keep packing a lunch, keep eating fruit, keep jogging (even when it sucks; especially when it sucks). Keep saving. Keep budgeting. Keep reaching out. Keep in touch with old friends. Keep opening up to new ones.

Just keep going.

One day at a time.

Just keep going.

One run at a time.

Just keep going.

One sleep at a time.

Just keep going.

One meal at a time.

Just keep going.

One dollar at a time.

Just keep going.

Just. Keep. Going.

This afternoon, I saw a posting on Facebook about an urgent adoption situation from an agency in Utah. I see these types of postings go by from time to time, and usually, there is something about the situation that makes it an obvious non-fit. But this afternoon’s posting looked perfect for us. And the baby is due next week!

Honestly, I think there is only a very slim chance that this situation will amount to anything for us. First of all, this agency only posts situations publicly when they don’t have any waiting families who are a match. With this situation sounding so ideal, it’s hard to imagine that they’re having trouble finding a fit, which makes me think that there’s some issue that is causing their existing waiting families concern. Something like legal risk with the biological father, or unusually high expenses.

Secondly, some of the agencies who post these “urgent” situations require big up-front application fees for waiting parents to even be considered. I don’t know the policies of this particular agency, but if they require payment from us before they will give us more information or work with us on this match, then we will probably not move forward.

Finally, this situation has really made the rounds on Facebook today. I’ve seen it posted three or four separate times in the past few hours. And lots of people are commenting and expressing interest. So it sounds like the expectant mom will have lots of families to choose from, which is as it should be.

Although it’s unlikely that this is the baby for us, it always feels good to do something proactive. It feels like progress, and I can’t help but think that each situation that doesn’t work out for us just brings us closer to our baby.

And, baby, we’re ready for you!

I know that we made a lot of progress in 2011, and I’m grateful for the many blessings life has thrown my way. But it’s tough to face a new year with nothing but continued uncertainty. Over the past few months, I’ve learned that the wait hurts less if I take it one day at a time. And that’s a hard thing to today. Today, I find myself reflecting on the past year and hanging my hopes on the year to come. And it’s tough to stay present in the moment when you have a whole year of hopes and expectations weighing you down.

So as everyone around me thinks back on the past year and looks forward to the year to come, I’m going to try to think of this as just another day. Another day of not knowing. Another day of trying not to worry about what comes next. Another day of hoping.

Ever since our waiting parents support group meeting, we have been researching additional agencies, trying to find an out-of-state agency to list our profile so we can increase our chances of finding a match. It’s been a difficult and eye-opening process, as we realize how sheltered we’ve been under the wing of our current agency and our home state of Connecticut. There are a lot of industry practices that make us uncomfortable, and it hasn’t always been clear how we should move forward. In spite of all of that, we made a decision to sign on with a second agency, and we submitted our paperwork to them earlier this week.

Yesterday, I sent a quick email to our case worker, J, just to let her know we had signed on with another agency. I thought the other agency might contact her with questions, and I wanted her to have a heads up, plus, I wanted to see if she had any concerns or misgivings about our agency of choice. She wrote me back right away, saying she had heard of the agency, and only good things, and wishing us a happy holiday.

Then: “… and…just a little side note…your profile is being shown right now to a woman who is due very soon…so always remember to be ready in a moment!!”

Wait. WHAT??

As soon as I read that sentence, I wished I hadn’t. I don’t think I have ever wanted to unknow something as much as I would like to unknow the fact that we are being considered by an expectant mom as we go into our holiday season. After our first two situations didn’t amount to anything, I was perfectly happy expecting nothing more from 2011, relaxing through the holidays, and then setting my hopes on 2012 to be our year.

Instead, I’m brimming with adrenaline, playing mind games with myself, and waiting for the phone to ring. Merry freaking Christmas.

I did email J back, just a quick note to tell her that we’re ready (so ready!) and to ask her if she’ll let us know when the expectant mom has made her decision either way, just so we’re not holding out hope over the holidays.

In the meantime, my thoughts are with the expectant mom, who surely is having a more stressful and difficult time going into the holidays this year than I am. I hope she is at peace with her decision, whatever it may be.

When we first started talking about adoption as a way to add to our family, before we knew anything about the realities of the adoption industry, we talked about race. Our (naive) assumption was that being open to adoption automatically meant being open to becoming a multi-cultural family. We talked about what that would be like for us. We decided we were capable of providing a child from any ethnic background with a welcoming, loving, and accepting family. Then (and only then) we started talking to agencies.

We were shocked when the first agency we investigated had two separately priced programs: one for Caucasian, Hispanic, and other non-black babies, and a second, less expensive one for African-American or African-American biracial babies. Was this agency racist? Or were they just trying to respond to a racist society as best they could? Was there really a greater need for parents for darker-skinned babies? How could this be?

The second agency we investigated did not have different pricing based on race. That felt much better to us! We met with the director at a local diner. “We’re racially open,” we said. “We just want to expand our family, we just want to have a baby. Race doesn’t matter to us.”

“Okay, that’s good,” she said. “So… does that mean you would be willing to accept an African-American baby?”

We just blinked at her. Isn’t that what we just said?

We talked with her for a long time, and we really hit it off. Turns out, black babies are very hard to place. Sometimes, the agency has to find international placements for them because they can’t find homes for them within the US, and they want to keep them out of foster care. To say we were floored would be an understatement. We were speechless. How could this be?

We ended up signing with the second agency, and we feel very good about that decision. Our agency has a social services focus. Their pregnancy counseling focuses on all options, including providing expectant moms with resources to help them parent if that’s what they’d like to do. That is important to us. Yes, we want to become parents. But we don’t want to break up families. We are looking for a situation where an expectant mom really, truly chooses to place. Which is hard, too. You never want to think about a fellow human being going through something so difficult. But people find themselves in terrible situations sometimes, and our (possibly naive) hope is that we can provide some comfort for a woman who can’t parent. That we are able to make a truly terrible situation slightly less terrible. That we can do right by the child.

Now, we’re looking to sign on with an additional agency in order to increase our chances of finding a match. And it has been tough. I have seen things that make my stomach turn. I see agencies and facilitators exploiting vulnerable people. Vulnerable hopeful adoptive parents, desperate to build their families after suffering infertility and loss. Vulnerable expectant moms, looking for options and guidance. And race-based pricing everywhere I turn. Today, I talked to an adoption facilitator who had three programs: the most expensive for babies who were not part African-American, the second for those babies plus mixed race babies who were part African-American, and the third (and least expensive) for full African-American babies. I don’t even feel like I have the vocabulary to talk about this. I’m ashamed to be white. I’m ashamed that we are participating in this industry. But I want to proceed with our adoption plans. I want to believe that something good can come out of all of this. Something good for a child, something good for a woman who needs help, and something good for our family.

For starters, Chris always knows how to listen, how to reassure me without dismissing me, how to get me laughing. Thanks, honey. Also, the sun came out today. Helps a lot.

In addition, we had a fortuitously-timed waiting parents support group meeting at our agency last night. There were 4 other couples there, and it really helped to hear their stories, to exchange ideas. It wasn’t necessarily everything I hoped it would be, but I left feeling a whole lot better, and that’s what counts.

Finally, we’re getting ready to take some concrete steps forward that can only increase our chances of finding a match. Signing up with a second agency, for starters. Our agency actually encourages waiting families to sign up with additional agencies to increase the chance of finding a match. We’ve found an agency we think is a good fit, and we’re excited to move forward.

So, I’m back to feeling hopeful. And the roller coaster ride continues.