Yesterday we took another day trip to Greensboro. We spent most of the day at the Science Museum, followed by a visit to N's grandmother. I think next time we go we'll make more time for her since we see her so rarely and the kids really loved seeing her (and the feeling was mutual!).
For lunch we located an Indian buffet, which was heavenly! Ambrose filled up on rice while the rest of us chowed down on some of the best Indian food I've ever had. Seriously, we were all in pain when we left their with our bloated bellies!
Shortly after we got our food, while the kids were being quiet, Nik looked at me and said, "It feels like we're missing one."
"I know. I feel that way a lot."
"No, no, I mean, I can see both boys and I know that they're both here and safe, but it feels like we're missing one."
"I know. I feel that way a lot. Really."
Just for a second we held each others gaze, sort of a quick understanding passing through.
We have room for another. We want another. We're missing another.
Even as I type this I think about all those I know who have lost a child, or who still wait. Some have had miscarriages or still births, others had failed or contested adoptions (some after very long placements), others lost a child to death, and others have been "matched" with a child that they are waiting for, sometimes for years now, knowing that their child is on the other side of the world and they just can't get to them.
I cannot compare my own yearning to this kind of aching pain. Our yearning for another child is just that: A yearning. It is not painful and it is not overwhelming.
It's like a dull throb at the base of your skull.
I can ignore it most of the time, and often I just accept it as being there, something I can live with, something that's pretty much a part of me now. This missing child is still more an idea, a wish, a dream, than anything based in reality.
And yet, there have been moments recently where I'm suddenly, out of nowhere, gripped by this intense desperation. My child is out there somewhere and I'm not with her! It passes and I wonder for a moment if I've gone insane or perhaps I haven't gotten enough sleep or maybe I'm feeling hormonal... and then I remember having these same little jolts with both of our sons, this feeling that our child was out there somewhere, that we didn't have a name or gender or place or race or anything and yet our child was out there and we somehow had to find the right path to our child.
Perhaps we started this journey too early... Perhaps now is when we were meant to start...
We're so torn, so torn....
We may want to stop at 3 children, and if we do, and if we're able, shouldn't we pursue a pregnancy? I would likely always regret it if we didn't even try...
And yet, I know the adoption world, it has worked for us, and the thought of bringing in another child through private adoption or foster care absolutely thrills me.
What if our child is a waiting embryo, frozen in Cleveland? What if our child is a little girl with cleft lip in Cambodia waiting for adoptions to resume, potentially next year? What if our child is living in this same city with a foster family who does not intend to adopt? What if our child is nestled warm inside the womb of her expecting mother, where she'll be kept safe and warm and nurtured while her mother struggles with the hardest decision of her life? What if our child isn't even on this Earth yet and yet we still feel that he or she is out there, or at least will be out there, and we need to get prepared now?
I check adoption news a lot. I read forums. I talk to people. I pray. I read. I dream. And I'm looking for a sign.
Sirens went off in my head with P. And with A things fell into place. We thought we knew which way to go this time around, a few times now, and they were dead ends.
I'm just trying to stay calm and enjoy the wild ride right now, because really what else can I do?
I guess I'll just have to keep my eyes and ears, and heart, open and hope that it comes to us before too long. And in the meantime, I'll be wrassling with a pair of wild little boys :) They do keep us busy!
Lily in a loafing barn
1 year ago