All Over the Map

ADOPTION UPDATE:
This baby has Cherokee blood. If it could be properly documented, the little guy has a full ride to college... but not us as a mom and dad.

Years ago, when our birthmom's great grandmother was born, some doctor didn't feel the need or take the time to write her name on the birth certificate and instead, just wrote "Indian". It's amazing how one act from an individual decades ago could make or break the success of the adoption of our little boy. If the doctor had written a name on that piece of paper, this 2010 adoption case would be transferred to the U.S. Tribal Court, and the tribe would find a Cherokee home for the child... but since he didn't, everything is still on course. Our attorney is notifying the Cherokee Nation of the adoption, but because of the lack of documentation, there is little to no chance that the Indian Child Welfare Act of 1978 will keep us from bringing this baby home.

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Bills are coming daily. Attorney fees, agency fees, retainer fees... I guess that's a good sign things are moving forward! This last week, my work threw a suprise Baby Shower for me. It was so sweet, and I feel blessed to work with such supportive people, who over the years, have truly become friends. However, it did freak me out a little. The sea of diapers, booger suckers, thermometers, baby clothes, toys, things that started singing when I picked up the gift bags- all made things seem a little more REAL.

In our adoption, there hasn't been a gradual, incremental growth of awareness of the impending new roles we will soon accept. Honestly, I have guarded my heart with a few moments of vulnerable excitement and emotion when a couple of potential matches appeared and disappeared from the radar, but most of the process has felt more like going through a difficult college course while 12 different cable company telemarketers (with broken English and information I need) continue putting me on hold while I listen to distant keyboard jazz elevator music in the background. In adoption, the anticipation comes in stages and different forms. Researching types of adoption. Anticipation of program qualification. Working. Paperwork Completion. Saving money. Waiting. Assembling a presentation book. Waiting. Sending money. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Anticipating a match. Waiting. Almost matching. Waiting. Anticipating a match. Almost matching. Waiting. Phone call. Driving. Matching. Freaking out! Anticipating a baby in 6 weeks.

I watch the "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" shows with new appreciation. Wednesday afternoon indigestion and lower back pain results in a Wednesday evening infant named Junior, just because there wasn't time to come up with a name. Every story I've seen shows children that have survived parents who didn't read "Babywise", mourn the last sleep-til-noon Saturday, or have a big garage sale to clean out that one catch-all closet we all have. So if those new parents can figure it all out, why can't we?

Obviously, my emotions are all over the map. I feel like a sixteen-year old on Prom Day, pulling out that special dress, setting out my new shoes and earrings while anxiously looking at the clock. Four more hours. Should I start doing my make up and hair yet, or is there still some time to go outside and shoot some baskets? It's that emotion mixed with some unanticipated sadness, like packing up your apartment after college graduation. I have so much to look forward to, but it's the end of an era.

People have told me that your relationship with your husband changes a lot with kids in the picture. What does that mean? I love my life with Tim right now. When life gets hard, crazy, and senseless, he is and has been my safe place for the last eight years... what we have is amazing. I pray to God that we don't lose that.

The nursery is ready, I've read a book or two, I'm caught up on sleep, and the closet is as cleaned out as it's going to be. I'm looking at the calendar, and it's almost time for all of the waiting to bring about a result, that right now, I can barely imagine.. a new life in every sense of the word.