Two is the Loneliest Number
Husband and I are just a few weeks away from starting our waiting game. Our home study was approved, we created a profile book, and we are wrapping up the requisite first aid and newborn classes. This should be an exciting time, and it is...and yet it also isn't. While we are thrilled to be done with yet another checklist, we are dreading the eventual lack of control.
Up to this point we've worked incredibly hard. It was a great feeling to turn in our home study and to read the final draft granting us approval. We really reflected deeply as a couple while doing all of our trainings. We were proud of how we organized the house. There were real, tangible results from all we had put ourselves through. But now? We're starting to face the reality that none of it may matter. For everything we did, there are so many others who've done just as much if not more. There are countless hopeful parents out there with stories just like ours; who's really to say why one is more deserving than another?
Through this process we've also learned that we need to find balance. We've come across so many people with websites, Facebook pages, GoFundMe campaigns...the list is staggering. On the one hand, we worry that we aren't putting ourselves out there enough; this blog really began more as a journal than anything else, a way to document our journey. Are we going to be overlooked because we aren't marketing ourselves? The idea of "marketing" as part of adoption is strange, yet it seems to be the current best practice. Our own agency strongly encourages us to seek out other avenues so as not to put all of our hopes on one path that, statistically, may not be in our favor. If this doesn't work out, is it because we didn't put forth our best effort? On the other hand, we feel strongly about retaining at least some sense of privacy. Sure, our closest friends and loved ones know -- we knew we needed to lean on our support system. But at what point do we have to accept the possibility of not matching to keep from losing ourselves in the process? We are scared of letting this take over our lives.
Up to this point we've worked incredibly hard. It was a great feeling to turn in our home study and to read the final draft granting us approval. We really reflected deeply as a couple while doing all of our trainings. We were proud of how we organized the house. There were real, tangible results from all we had put ourselves through. But now? We're starting to face the reality that none of it may matter. For everything we did, there are so many others who've done just as much if not more. There are countless hopeful parents out there with stories just like ours; who's really to say why one is more deserving than another?
Through this process we've also learned that we need to find balance. We've come across so many people with websites, Facebook pages, GoFundMe campaigns...the list is staggering. On the one hand, we worry that we aren't putting ourselves out there enough; this blog really began more as a journal than anything else, a way to document our journey. Are we going to be overlooked because we aren't marketing ourselves? The idea of "marketing" as part of adoption is strange, yet it seems to be the current best practice. Our own agency strongly encourages us to seek out other avenues so as not to put all of our hopes on one path that, statistically, may not be in our favor. If this doesn't work out, is it because we didn't put forth our best effort? On the other hand, we feel strongly about retaining at least some sense of privacy. Sure, our closest friends and loved ones know -- we knew we needed to lean on our support system. But at what point do we have to accept the possibility of not matching to keep from losing ourselves in the process? We are scared of letting this take over our lives.
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