Today was one of those days. You know the type. And on top the suck that was today, it was a Monday. Double suckage, right? There were so many things that were off. It was definitely a terrible, no-good, very bad day.
And then I got this e-mail. It was a kind e-mail. But it made me sad. It made me sad because it was the first "no" on my journey towards adoption. The funny thing is, I was not expecting my reaction. I wasn't expecting to even take a step towards a specific child anytime soon. But I did.
That child will find a forever home but it won't be mine. I didn't expect to be sad. I didn't expect for it to impact me the way that it did. After all, I wasn't planning on making any specific inquiries just yet. I am just in the initial beginning stages of this journey.
Yet, the tears flowed. I didn't really get it at first. The funny thing is, it was a girl. And if you know me, you know that I always say I'd rather have boys. There are a few reasons why I say this. But truthfully, the only two reasons I really say it are for reasons I don't really talk about on this blog - namely that I believe, from somewhere deep in my woman's heart, that the baby I lost was a girl. Something in me just hasn't been ready to think about a little girl calling me mom.
Sounds ridiculous as I read that again. But it is what it is. Anywho...
I cried. And I struggled through the rest of the evening. It wasn't until I got home (got home from work late tonight) that it kind of hit me why it impacted me the way that it did. Really . . . it's just a reminder of of this thing that I want . . . to have a family, that at 37, has escaped my grasp. And I suppose I was really wondering, will it always escape my grasp? Or do I just need to suck it up and prepare for a rocky journey to getting there?
When people around me complain about their husbands and kids, I wish I could tell them that living with the craziness of family life - with all of its boring, monotonous moments, its frustration and hard work, I would happily accept in exchange for the solitude of my life. I want them to stop taking their men and their noisy, messy homes for granted. I want them to truly grasp that what I'm praying for now, they're taking for granted.
I suppose one might think that I'm not able to be a realist when it comes to what it's truly like to be married with kids. Or at least what it's like to be a mom. But that's just not the case. I know what the real deal is. And after years of being a full-time, live-in nanny who literally got up with "my" kid in the night and spent more hours raising said kid/s than their parents, I don't have an illusions - it's not going to be pretty all of the time. My kids will disobey. There will be puke. There will be poop. There will be utter exhaustion (especially if I end up with little ones). I know this. But it will be worth it.
For me it's the little things that sometimes mean the most to me. And sometimes, it's the little things that I want the most in this one-person, one-dog household of mine. On Abby dog's evening jaunt through the neighborhood, the neighbors sometimes have a fire in their fire pit. When we walk past the house - the parents and the kids can be heard laughing and talking around the fire. I think this little, simple thing is beautiful. And I'm missing it. Missing it though I've never known it.
It's the little things . . .
If today's e-mail revealed anything, I suppose it shows me that God has placed all this on my heart for a reason. I don't know where this journey is going to take me. I really have no clue. But I think I'm barking up the right tree. I trust that He knows what little person will call me mommy. And I trust Him to make this happen in His perfect timing.
And I look forward to the little things I'll share with my family someday. I hope you will remember to enjoy the little things.