Tuesday, August 01, 2006

It's hard to prepare for a baby that you don't know is yours yet.

Husband and I have been very purposeful in not telling too many people about the portfolio and potential adoption. It's sort of like knowing you're pregnant but not announcing it until you pass the 3 month marker. The odds of risk are high and you don't want to mention anything to anyone until you you're reasonably confident that it's a done deal. I'm feeling that way about this adoption process. Why tell anyone about it until we know that we are chosen? It isn't real until that happens.

But in the meantime, I'm only staying mostly calm.

This entire thing is so...random. We haven't pursued a domestic adoption so it really came as a delightful surprise. But the reality is that if we are chosen, we'll have a baby in about two months.


Two months? I don't have the baby's room painted yet. My Hope Chest contents are packed away in the basement. I haven't ordered furniture or window coverings. And I haven't adequately belabored or agonized over the this process to an acceptable extent. Lord knows that everything that I do that is truly worthwhile includes an extreme amount of worry. And frankly, I haven't had enough time to do that. It feels odd.

Reality Check: We have a 16.5% chance in getting this baby.

Ummm...my other mental posture that is going through transition is the age difference of the baby. In Russia, babies cannot be adopted earlier than 6 months of age - and most are at least 9 months old. We were going to adopt a 1 year old and a 2 year old. And we were going to have at least 10 months to work on the process, prepare and agonize.

I'm just not used to things working out without the proper amount of agony. So I'm feeling a bit off-balance by this potential, though I'm sure there would be plenty to worry about once we got the baby.

And just for the record, I have abstained from buying anything until we know that this is going to happen...despite the fact that I am dying, dying to get everything set-up and going.

Bleh. I'm going to go sweep the floor. And kiss the dog. And try not to eat.