I am posting this quickly, late at night because of a sweet note that Julie left asking if I'm OK. Hmmm. I am OK yes. I am also, well I don't know know but there is a general hurricane of longing going on around us isn't there? I'm caught up in it too, to the point of speechlessness (or writers block.)
The good news: I got a job. I lost my job on November 15th. I knew it was coming and so in September we put a hold on our adoption paperwork. Horrible. Horrible. Horrible. But still I know I'm so very very very lucky. I have Q. I have been at my new job for 4 weeks. 20 people interviewed for my position. 10 were put through to the top level of interviews. 3 of us came back several times. And then they chose me. I keep thinking of the 19 others who interviewed. It's very tough out there in Manhattan these days and while I usually think I'm one in a million these days I know the odds are much much different. I am so humbled by my good fortune I try not even to think of it. I feel, in a word, quilty. I know I shouldn't but there you go.
Meanwhile our social worker was laid off and we will have to do some of our home study over. We have had so many twists and turns on this journey. But I have been in contact with our agency and we are coming off of hold and will be pulling all the paperwork together in the next few weeks.
I now ride the train to work (which beats the heck out of driving 120 miles a day like I was before) and I have lots of time to think. All that I think about is my youngest child's mother. I cannot help thinking of what she is going through right now. That is if she is still alive. We are hoping to bring home a child between 3 and 5 years old. They are alive, living, breathing and loving. They are wrapped (please God) in someone's arms as they fall asleep and they are loved. Someone sings them lullabies. And their mother? What of she? Is she trying to hold her family together? Is she still doing OK and unaware that she will one day have to let go of her little one's hand? I cannot stop thinking of her. I feel as though I am walking toward her, slowly and while I know of her she knows nothing of me. And for every step I struggle to make always in a forward motion no matter how small she takes a step too but her steps are not of her making. Forward she walks toward me because of what? Politics? Poverty? Disease? Fate? I suffer and I know I should. If I'm not willing to bear this longing with at least an ounce of grace then I am not worthy of her. She suffers but what does it do for her? I am overwhelmed by my love for her. One day she will take that final step with her little one's hand in hers and then she will have to let go. She will need a faith that is difficult for me to comprehend. I am of course imagining that she is alive. I do not know why. I suppose because I want that for my youngest child. I do not want my child to lose his or her mother. Not to death. I want the possibility of life. I want the promise. One day, we could go back. One day the country will be healthier. This will be just an interlude, the thing that brought us, family, together. We will go back with photos and diplomas and we will have coffee and sing and dance and laugh and cry and cry and cry.
I know. I know. It's a house of cards. Fascinated, I am unable to stop building them.
Thank you Julie for asking. Now please everyone that reads this post - please pray Julie's and Evelyn's babies on home! I need some baby photos and they need some children.
And to all of you with your babies and children home - please keep posting photos. I know I speak for so many when I say they keep me going.
kisses and hugs for everyone on this journey.