The adoptive parents called me tonight. I was in my usual non-computer position: laying on my side watching TLC and playing my Gameboy when the phone rang, and I was surprised to hear from the adoptive mom. We meet up or call every two weeks to catch up on baby-related business, and it was my turn to call next Monday.
They found a new biomom. She’s due in “less than a month” and she’s older than I am. They want to go with her instead because she’s had more time to think it over and she “knows for sure”. I know for sure, too. I’ve known for sure since September. I really liked this family. They were young enough to be cool but old enough to be mature. They already had a three-year-old son that they adopted. They were perfect for us–for Maybug and me. I don’t know what we’re going to do now, but I’m going to talk to the lawyer tomorrow to find out what she recommends. I’m pretty sure (but maybe someone more knowledgable could correct me, I’m going to do some research too, because that’s what I do) that it’s too late for me to join up with an agency. I feel so sad for Maybug for some reason. I thought that I had chosen a family who really wanted him or her and and they just…bowed out for some newer model. Now it’s just Maybug and me, two against the world, and I don’t know what we’re going to do.
I read a blog that’s linked on the side of my page pretty often called optionadoption. It gives me a good insight on the other side of what I’m going through, the parents’ side, and it’s given me a good perspective on why, exactly, I need to go through with this. There are so so many people like this and a woman who has commented here before (I really hope you guys don’t mind me singling you out) who want, genuinely want to have a baby who just can’t for some reason. I want those people to be able to someday hold a baby–their baby, and watch him or her grow and develop and be loved. I wanted to do that for someone because I know that I just can’t, at this point, do it myself.
I shouldn’t feel so shaken up about this setback, but I do. I don’t know why, but I do.
Although the baby’s dad (who I’ve never talked about before. This blog has really been the Me Show since I opened it, which isn’t fair to him, is it?), when I called him, brought up the terrifying proposition of raising the kid ourselves when I told him that they’d bowed out. I can’t say the thought never crossed my mind, but it was jarring to hear it spoken by someone else.
I wish I could better articulate what I want to say about the idea of keeping the baby. I feel bad that I can’t. And I feel even worse trying, but here goes nothing.
I have the vision or fantasy sometimes of what it would be like if something happened and we ended up keeping the baby. I guess it’s apretty normal teenage girl fantasy of what it would be like to have a baby, but it’s all that more real. I always think of Maybug as a boy–make of that what you will–and I imagine what he’d look like and sound like. I browse through racks of tiny baby clothes and pick out ones with firetrucks and bugs and puppy dogs and picture dressing him up in them with a little hat that matched. Maybe with ears. I found a car seat the other day at Wal Mart that had dinosaur print and I wanted to buy it for him. I could see my baby (in his puppy-dog sleeper) riding in that car seat. I pass by rows of formula and picture myself in the middle of the night making a bottle for him. He’s even cute when he’s screaming his head off.
I told someone once that I thought that if it was a boy I might not want to let him go. I think I was right. I don’t know why I’m so attached to the notion of having a son, and I don’t know what it means for me in the long run. I guess time will tell.
Although when I have those fantasies, I do try to be as unselfish as possible about them. I do remember how I got into this position, and I do remember that I was so scared and uneasy and I knew all along that I couldn’t keep the baby. And if that isn’t enough, I remind myself of all the people who want to be how I am and can’t, and I think of the way a baby would be a fantastic gift to them.
Sometimes, though, it doesn’t help much.
(As an aside, I checked my views before I logged on and I have 100 views and I’ve only had the blog for a week. Geez! I had no idea that my ramblings would be that interesting to people.)
