Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Always picked last

This really is like high school all over again. I'm standing on a softball field, awkwardly crossing my arms across my chest, trying to look like I don't care that the overweight girl with asthma got picked before I did. It doesn't feel any better now than it did back then. I know that its not about me. I know that it's more important for these kids to find a home where they fit than it is for me to find my child. But its hard when I watched my co-worker get a baby within a month or two in a fairly unethical way, just because the case worker liked him. Its hard to know that the factor most likely limiting our likelihood of being chosen is the one thing I wouldn't change for all the world. If someone just told me that having my daughter was the most happiness I was allowed to have, I guess I would have to accept that, but no one says that. Everyone expects that we will adopt, and then get pregnant, because as we all know, adoption is the cure for infertility. I want to live in everyone else's world; the one where people get what they want and deserve, the one where deformed babies only happen to druggies and little girls don't know that death is forever.

There are so many things I want to say. Some are sad, some are not. But I only have time for the words that most need to be said. I love that I can come here and be heard and understood. I really will try to find more time to write about more than one aspect of my life. I need it, so I need to make it work. If someone figures out a way to add 4 hours to my day without exhausting me, I'm all ears.

1 comment:

  1. I am so sorry. I think there is this fantasy that when you move to adoption things just easier. I know that is far from the reality. This is a long, hard road you are on and I am wishing you well.

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