I really hope it's true it's always darkest before dawn because that kind of bloody-minded reverse optimism is all I have left. Well, that and an oddball sense of humour. And tremendous enthusiam for gourmet crisps and large animals.
Also small, furry ones. And coffee.
But I am worried. I have things to get off my chest, and that is what a blog is for. Here we go.
Having been the one for ooh, all my life to be all responsible and ready to approach The Authorities and Ask For Help, like a middle-class person, not to mention feeling compelled to be the cheerleader of basically Everything, and Believer in The Happy Ending, I have utterly lost faith in The Adoption Authority. Oh, I feel such a fool, apart from anything. Since their meeting with the Indian authorities in May, NOTHING has happened. I know they are understaffed but I cannot conceive of the foot-dragging that is going on. The JB and I went to a very depressing meeting with our cohort who speculated a year might yet pass, to set up the working agreements with India. A year. Just to get going? To get on a working list? After which people could quite easily expect another two for the Indian part of the adoption to happen - I mean, the matching, the Notice of Court and so on. Legal stuff, which probably can't be expedited. It was utterly crushing to sit around with these decent (One presuuuumes. They could have corpses buried under their patios, I suppose.) hard-working folk, who may well actually age out of the system before they can effect an adoption (the maximum combined age for India is 90), complaining so bitterly about the lack of good will, the apparent deliberate obstructiveness of the Authority, the disappointment, the resignation, the feeling of being cheated. All the while children stuck in orphanages when people who are so ready and so able to care for them are left waiting.
All this did not make for a happy evening. Of course. And of course, the JB and I had an argument walking back to the tram stop. I really started thinking he'd be better off with someone else. It doesn't even seem the worst outcome anymore. I'd be okay, I'd get obsessed by comics (more obsessed, I mean) or foster injured hedgehogs or something, find some mission for myself, and he'd go off to the US and find himself a nice, fertile American to have 3.5 children with. Sure, they'd grow up saying mere instead of mirror, draw instead of drawer, and forget the word aluminium has more than one "i". :-) But still! They'd be grand.
Does that sound so bad?
Answer: no. (In case you were in any doubt).
Related: Worry Two:
What is this doing to my marriage? Heaven knows, many of you know how painful it is not to be able to give your spouse what he wants so badly. Since the traumatic walk of doom to the tram stop, we have patched things up. We patch well, at this point. He tells me he wants to be parents only with me and will see it through. We're okay. We really, really love each other.
Adoption was always my answer but it's failed me. All my assurances that this would work, this was our plan, feel so simple-minded now. The uncertainty itself is the killer. I mean, if we knew it'd be 4 years, we could plan accordingly. We'd know, at least. It might well be. Or Florida might open and it might be 1. Who knows? There's no alternative. (DE and surrogancy are wonderful options that aren't for me. Too old for IVF. Blah, blah.) We could go to the USA (he has a passport, you may remember) to live and adopt there, but I can't leave my parents.
Which brings me to Worry Three:
My parents are slowing down alarmingly - my father, as you may remember, suffered a stroke 3 years ago, my mother is increasingly and painfully affected by arthritis. It is so hard to see them so diminished. It is so hard to witness the decline. It's so hard to know it will only get worse.
Also. This haircut makes me look like an orange Cocker Spaniel.
Do you know, I do feel better now. Thank you!
I feel.. more optimistic. Oh crap?
Apparently it really is my nature.