At last count there were more than 150 likes or comments on our Facebook announcement, which is pretty similar to the engagement and wedding announcements. Pretty fun to see all the great friends and family in our lives who will love baby blackbird so much!
It was a strangely mixed emotion, though. By mid-afternoon I was able to put a finger on it, thanks to some well-timed texts from a close friend who also miscarried recently. I realized that it felt a bit like betraying the two angel babies to make such a big fuss over the adoption announcement. I should be eight months pregnant right now, if everything had gone right the first time. I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be filling out our home study paperwork yet cause we’d be busy with baby showers and last-minute projects. And if it had gone right the second time we’d be planning the big pregnancy announcement right about now. So, I kind of felt like I needed to temper each “congrats!” with a “but wait, we already have two babies in our hearts and we love them too!” And then again I was excited and so, so happy to let everyone know about the adoption. Pretty confusing.
I think that’s how parenting is.
It also feels like it’s going to be FOREVER until our adoption is finalized and we have a baby in the nursery. Our adoption process should actually be pretty quick compared to international adoptions, but when you’ve been ready to be a mom for years, each added day seems like too long to wait. On top of the wait you add the feeling of helplessness and vulnerability because there’s nothing you can really do to make a birth mom choose you. (Yes, yes, God is in charge and his timing is perfect. It’s the same for pregnancies. I know. This feels different.) Even if we ace all the meetings, paperwork and fundraising, we won’t have a baby until someone else decides. When you miscarry, you naturally wonder if the universe is telling you you’re not a suitable mom, so there’s already some fragile mom-ego over here. Being dependent on another woman to validate your worth as a mother, exclusively and completely, is so crazy intense! I can imagine that those birth mom-adoptive mom relationships can be incredibly volatile or amazingly fulfilling.
Good Cop found a nest in the yard the other day and brought it inside for me. I studied it the other night and saw Ziva’s hair woven into the grasses. I like that. As I brushed Ziva outside this spring I wondered about the nests that were being built. It’s nice to know that a bird did find it useful and that the three of us, me, Ziva and the bird, created a soft, springy nest for babies to hatch. That’s all I’ve asked for on this journey. Make me a safe space for a baby to grow.