Crazy little thing called life

These problems are real, and you can't turn off real life. So I won't try.
~Sean Covey, The 7 Habits Of Highly Effective Teens

Looking back on everything that has "gone down" recently, it is hard to believe that it has been less than a month. So much has changed in our lives, and yet everything is the same. We live in a fast-paced world, where decisions are made, and plans carried through before minds can be changed. We eat microwave meals, and buy instant pudding. Three years ago, we decided to get a dog, and that evening we owned our first puppy, Clyde. We said we needed to decorate the living room, and two days later, we had furniture, and decorations. I do realize that I am very blessed to be able to live my life like that.

The past month has been a strain on me, because nothing in this process is instant. After a week of non-stop research, planing, dreaming and talking, we had our first face-to-face meeting with our social worker. We turned in our full 70 page application, complete with sticky notes where we had questions. We had intelligent, educated questions to ask. We dressed the part of the young professionals, ready to make a serious change in their lives. Even with all the preparation, we do not feel that we were taken seriously. We were discouraged by the social worker, and made to feel like selfish people because we voiced some concerns that we had. The questions that we asked, she seemed to think were stupid, and were dismissed. We went into the meeting trying to curb our excitement, and to not seem to eager. We left the meeting feeling deflated and discouraged.

Nothing seemed to be as we expected it to be. From what we could gather, everything was about the parents, and the children were just a little part of the puzzle. It was as if we were expected to be excited about the monthly stipend we would receive, and should have been encouraged that there 'would be some left over every month because you rarely use all of it'. We were discouraged from making a nursery in our home, and told more than once that 'the kid can sleep in a pack and play for up to two weeks'. We were also shot down early in the meeting with the statement that "this is not an adoption program, but a reunification program". While, yes, I agree that every family deserves the change to be put back together, I have also seen many instances of adoption, and through that same program. I had been in communication with this person for almost two weeks, and she fully knew our wants/ needs going into this meeting. For her to suddenly change the game plan on us, and to approach us as she did was a complete turn off for us.

We had planned to visit BabiesRUs on the way home, so we went through with the visit. We ended up walking the aisles with uninterested eyes. I tried to play the part I thought that Cam was expecting from me, and I could tell he was doing the same, but the rows of baby baths, toys, cribs, etc. was only a reminder that life is not fair, and that my dream was once again being pulled just out of my reach. The highlight of the visit was the ninja Turtle aisle, where Cam was momentarily distracted by his favorite childhood toys. The roller coaster ride of the past weeks (and years) had taken it's toll. I was ready to give up on the whole thing. Out of frustration, and the fear of more hurt, I started to plan a life without kids. In my head, we were traveling the world, without a care. We were successful, and got all the sleep we wanted. I know that, had I kept thinking like that, I would have managed to trick myself into some semblance of happiness in this "other dimension", this life of compromise that is as close to good as we could get.

My dear Cameron, who never fails to amaze me, was the first one to voice his thoughts. He told me of his disappointment, and how he had hoped that our meeting would cement our decision. he said that he had prayed that if we were to do this that the doors would be open, and that we would know without any doubt that this was the right thing for our lives. He admitted that he was sad and frustrated, but that he now had hope. He was now able to come to grips with an option that he had been trying to avoid. (Now, this seems like a very quick decision, but keep in mind that we have been dealing with infertility for the past two years)He said that "if I am willing to take in a child who is a stranger to me, and to take on the problems of another family, why am I not willing to have a child that is at least half 'us'? If we use a Cryo Bank, and "buy a baby" that child would at least be half you. I would still get to see Kindergartner Jessie"
Cameron often calls me "kindergartner Jessie" when I do something silly, or I am in my half-awake state early in the mornings. At first, I was not sure how to take this. He says, "there she is" and laughs. Kindergartner Jessie is, in his mind, what our little girl might look and act like. When I finally saw this, I embraced Kindergartner Jessie for what she is in his mind, and now, she is our combined dream of what might be.

I was told to get an appointment immediately, and to get the process started. I have done some research, and I am now more educated, but the appointment still has not been made. For some reason I keep putting it off. As much as I truly do want a baby, I am not sure if I can take another set-back. Somehow in my mind I think, if I never make that appointment, I will never have to deal with another heart ache, and everything will work it's self out. I find myself slipping back into that worm hole that takes me to the alternate reality where we don't need or want kids. I stuff my emotions in a jar and hide them away. I push my needs back, and justify that with busy schedules, and forgetfulness. This self-sacrificing sabotage can't last long, and I know that I will have to come to grips with my reality, and make things happen for myself.