Welcome to the Last Minute List!

It's hard to believe, but we’ve been waiting to be matched for almost a year. A few quiet nibbles, and a couple strong votes of confidence (we've been chosen as a "favorite family" twice now!), but we're basically in the same spot as last year at this same time - eager, excited, curious, scared and ready.

So what happens as we approach the one-year mark? Well, first we got to do another round of fingerprints to be sure The Wait hadn't driven us to a life of crime (thankfully we're still holding strong!). Next we got doctor notes confirming we're still healthy (blood pressure still within normal ranges- that’s good!), and had a meeting with our adoption coordinator to talk about the Last Minute List.

There are no guarantees with the LML, but it might just take us from 1+1 to 1+1+1 very quickly. Here’s how it works:

The agency gets a call from a hospital, saying a woman has given birth and wants to place her baby for adoption. A social worker goes to the hospital and counsels Birthmom, exploring all options. Does she have any family members who might help? Would she like to place her baby in foster care for a short time so she can get some plans together, and then reunite? Women find themselves in this situation for all kinds of reasons- perhaps she didn’t realize she was pregnant until shortly before giving birth, or she knew she wanted adoption but didn’t have the resources to learn about it, or maybe she just wasn’t sure until labor was over. If she’s still serious about adoption after counseling, Birthmom will be presented with waiting families from the LML, and perhaps she’ll pick us. If she does, we will ask everyone to put on your seatbelts!

LML’s are localized, so we would only be presented to Birthmoms within driving distance of Oakland. But we’d get that phone call as soon as she selects us, middle of the night or middle of the afternoon, and we’d receive whatever information the social worker had gleaned. Then we get 30 minutes to make a decision. That’s right- a half hour! I can’t imagine saying no, but there could certainly be extenuating circumstances or risk factors that could lead us to decline. We just won’t know until we know.

But if we say yes, Operation Baby begins.

Dylan and I will convene at the house if we aren’t already there, and gather our pre-packed bags, including some basic infant supplies recently acquired from our friendly local Target (I won’t deny it was a complete joy to buy that stuff!). We’ll call in our dog support, probably need to take a million deep breaths, swing by a flower shop to pick up something pretty for Birthmom, and head out to the hospital.

 

From here, the story gets less certain. Lots will depend on Birthmom’s wishes, the health of the baby, Birthfather’s presence or lack thereof, the role of extended family, etc. etc. etc. So many things we just won’t know until the situation presents itself. But what a day that would be! Long story/short, we could be home that night with a newborn baby. Are you getting goosebumps yet? I know I am!

As I mentioned, there are no guarantees. These placements tend to have a higher rate of “reclaim” – your basic nightmare for adoptive families. We may also have to sit in limbo for a longer period if Birthmom delays signing the relinquishment documents.  It’s also possible we won’t be selected from the LML at all- the agency only does about 20 placements of this type across the nation each year.

But our agency’s average wait time for adoptive families is 14.5 months, and we are now at 11. While we are certainly not your average couple (I mean c’mon!), we have followed the agency’s every recommendation like good students and we must have the most supportive network of friends anyone has ever seen. When it’s time, I’m certain our baby will sense this, and steer Birthmom our way. LML, or otherwise.

In the meantime, we'll keep nesting and sending out the good vibes. And watching our phones very carefully.

Beautiful quilt from Cristy, our Last Minute kit of baby bag and car seat, and a splash of sunshine

p.s. To all of our family, friends, and extended network of future friends- we are so grateful for your words of encouragement and faith in our journey. Every note you send is a reassurance and valued support. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

My First Baby

June 8th. Today would have been my dog Cooper’s 14^th birthday, if she hadn’t passed away last October. It’s taken me a long time to adjust to her absence, and even though I still miss her every day and often marvel at my ability to exist without her, I am so grateful for the experience of knowing and loving her.

I realize caring for dogs and parenting children are a wee bit different- notably, it is not uncommon to leave a dog at home in a crate for several hours (!!!) - but as my designated “first baby,” Cooper definitely taught me a thing or two about parenting. She arrived at my feet a wee 8 weeks old, but full of fire. To my amazement and occasional chagrin, she stayed that way right through to the end.

Here are my Top Five parenting lessons, courtesy of this very special black-and-white dog:

1.     Don’t be scared of the baby.

Babies can make some crazy noises and scrunch up their faces like little devils. They present alarming surprises like projectile vomit and biting. But the last thing you should do is be scared of them- most likely, they are not actual devils. You can move in with your size and good sense and win them over- I suggest bringing persistence and cookies.

2.     It’s not about you anymore.

The baby doesn’t really care about your needs. Not yet anyway- when they get older they start to care a little. But when they are babies, all they care about is themselves. They have many needs and no quick way to tell you exactly what’s up at any given moment. How frustrating for them! You must tune into the baby and always ask yourself- does the baby have what it needs? Food? Potty? An opportunity to blow off steam? Only when you can answer with a resounding Yes can you relax and think about yourself for a minute. But don’t get too comfortable, because there’s another need right on the heels of the first one. And the second one. And so on. Baby = #1. You = #2. Always.

3.     Damn, you have to be consistent.

I usually rebel against consistency- it’s super boring! But babies need it pretty badly. They need to eat and sleep at pretty much the same times every day, and if you say no- you better mean it. If you have even a sliver of doubt about saying No, the baby will discover and exploit that sliver. They are cute little suckers, too, and they know it. Be strong.

4.     If you are losing patience, take a break.

You don’t set out as a parent with the intention of screaming obscenities as you throw things across the room in a spray of your own sweat. But parenting can take you there, on the express train. You must recognize when The Crazy is coming and pause ahead of its arrival. Pass the baby to someone else, or just close the door for a few minutes. Regroup, reflect, and try again. It’s better for everyone!

5.     Love makes it all worthwhile.

Parenting a baby is a ton of work- don’t let anyone tell you different. You lose sleep, you get poop on your hands, you try things that don’t work, and sometimes it seems like absolutely nothing can go right. Especially when the baby chews on your brand new shoes and gets the runs for a week.  But at the end of a long day, when the baby falls asleep in your arms and starts snoring, and then nuzzles in a little closer, you are sure you will do it all over again.

Thanks for the good lessons, Cooper. I can’t wait to tell the baby all about you.

6 months and 2 days, but who’s counting?

In most of the articles and blog posts I’ve read by other waiting adoptive parents, the message is loud and clear that you must not put your life on hold while you’re waiting for your baby to find you. Planning to remodel your house? Do it! Want to troll the streets of Paris? Do it! Try a new haircut, bake a 10-tiered cake, take up the ancient art of karate? Do it!

For the first few months, I must admit I struggled with this a little. Every time I’d do something, really anything, my brain would apply a filter I’ll call “Could I do this with a baby?’ and almost 100% of the time, the answer was No. After a while, it appeared all of my life’s activities and interests were incompatible and I would need to change everything to make room for the baby. You know, get ready.

What would that look like exactly? To start living as if there’s already a baby here?

First, and most obviously, I should give up on sleep. Maybe I’ll just start setting an alarm for every 90 minutes throughout the night and make myself go downstairs, open the refrigerator a couple of times, turn on the microwave, and come back upstairs. I’m sure Dylan would really love this opportunity to prepare, and screw that actual 4am wake-up bell- it’s for the baby!

Then there’s reading. I hear new moms can’t read much more than a paragraph, mostly due to the nonstop caretaking activities, but also because of a complete lack of brainpower. So I should just toss those magazines from the mailbox right into the recycling bin- it’s for the baby!

Of course, then we deal with life’s other basics – eating and showering. Eating will probably become more on-the-go than ever, so I should skip the stir-fry, roasted vegetables, tacos, and anything else requiring more than a moment’s preparation and go with crackers from the box, string cheese, and lean cuisines - so tasty and not salty at all! And showering is just overrated. Once every 2 weeks should be just fine. After all- it's for the baby.

Dog walks? They should really learn to do it themselves. Yoga? Dance class? You’re funny, Jonna- like that’s ever gonna happen! So really, I should just buy a boppy and park myself on the sofa, watching nonstop Friday Night Lights on Netflix while I hold a bottle near my chest and gaze down at the crook of my arm. It’s for the baby!

Really?

Gratefully, I instead accept my current life in place of this “preparation.” I trust that I’ll be able to adjust when the time is right. I'm not the first Mom to go through this transition, and I will certainly not be the last. And that's part of the experience, right? Reflecting on how much your life changes when a baby comes along? Transforming into the new chapter of your identity? Being thrilled and terrified by how much you care about this new life in your arms?

For now, I will keep trying new recipes, showering every day (sometimes twice!), reading whole books, walking the dogs, taking long bubble baths with my sweetie and a glass of wine with no care for bedtime, going to yoga, attending as many as three Hipline classes a week and staying out for cocktails afterwards, and finally, savoring each perfect moment of the suspense. 

The baby is coming, I just don’t know when.

Doldrums

dol·drums [dohl-druhmz, dol-, dawl-]

1. a state of inactivity or stagnation,

2. a belt of calms and light baffling winds north of the equator between the northern and southern trade winds in the Atlantic and Pacific oceans.

3. a dull, listless, depressed mood; low spirits.

Wikipedia also shares this poignant description: "When the winds are gone the sea actually has no swells; on a clear day the color of the sky is reflected in the water. At night the same effect, with no clouds or moon, gives one the effect of floating in space."

So here we are, definitely floating in space. Just four months into the official waiting period, and already we are a little impatient and a lot uncomfortable. All the fanfare of getting into circulation has faded, and now - we just wait. And I don't know about you, but when I have to wait, it becomes a clear test of my patience and tolerance of uncertainty.

So I'm building my tolerance with each passing day, and I suppose it's good. But it's also hard. I have most often thought of waiting as a waste of time, a signal of inefficiency. Something literally to be tolerated, like getting a cavity filled, or resisting to scratch an itch.

Our friend Laura B recently shared this poem, which she's been reading and re-reading as she awaits news about med school. Another big life change testing patience and tolerance of uncertainty. We share this big question with her, and probably with you, as well...how to live in the present while you eagerly and desperately await news about the future?

For the Interim Time

When near the end of day, life has drained
Out of light, and it is too soon
For the mind of night to have darkened things,

No place looks like itself, loss of outline
Makes everything look strangely in-between,
Unsure of what has been, or what might come.

In this wan light, even trees seem groundless.
In a while it will be night, but nothing
Here seems TO believe the relief of darkness.

You are in this time of the interim
Where everything seems withheld.

The path you took to get here has washed out;
The way forward is still concealed from you.

"The old is not old enough to have died away;
The new is still too young to be born."

You cannot lay claim to anything;
In this place of dusk,
Your eyes are blurred;
And there is no mirror.

Everyone else has lost sight of your heart
And you can see nowhere to put your trust;
You know you have to make your own way through.

As far as you can, hold your confidence.
Do not allow confusion to squander
This call which is loosening
Your roots in false ground,
That you might come free
From all you have outgrown.

What is being transfigured here is your mind,
And it is difficult and slow to become new.
The more faithfully you can endure here,
The more refined your heart will become
For your arrival in the new dawn.


from: "To Bless the Space Between Us" by John O'Donohue

Unfinished Business

In case you’re wondering, we’re still waiting. Day by day, we wait. Paying the bills and grocery shopping, doing laundry and catching up on Modern Family, walking the dogs and going to yoga class, we wait.

It’s not completely unlike regular life, except there’s a hum in the background. Or maybe it’s a clock. Or a metronome. Or the Jeopardy song. Anyhow, there is a little something extra hanging around since, after all, at any minute we could get the life-changing call that someone bought us tickets for the train to Baby Town.

So I like to talk about waiting sometimes, and some weeks ago, an old friend suggested I use this time to take stock of what might be “unfinished.” It was just a flash across her mind while we were talking about The Waiting, but her flashes intrigue me because unlike mine (which are often induced by too much green tea or cupcakes), hers are often not just flashes but actual premonitions.

So I’ve been reflecting on what might be unfinished and here’s the easiest stuff I’m starting with:

1) Photograph project: To say I love pictures is like saying mayonnaise is gross. So obvious! I do love pictures – so much that I have at least 4 shoeboxes full to the brim with 4x6 prints from 1990-2003ish. The rest are on my computer, or carefully resting in photo albums from the last time I did a photograph project. I am about half-way through this latest project, but abandoned it last year because it was too overwhelming. So what did I do? Got hold of some new photo albums, and sorted all the photos by year. Next up… throw the uninteresting ones away, and jam the rest into the albums.

2) My Clothes: …are a mess. My drawers are too full and I have out of control piles in the closet. What percentage of all these clothes do I actually wear regularly? I’m thinking approximately 25%. So- time to filter out the old to make space for…burpee blankets! Plus my sister will be tickled to comb through the piles for some gently used, share-able gems.

3) Refrigerator: Now that was a mess. Until yesterday! Bottles of “aged” salad dressing, sauces, and marinades…gone. Dried green onions in the back of the crisper…gone. Chicken broth from….when? Gone. A wipe down and quick shuffle of shelves, and I can check another thing off the list.

Of course, these are all perennial – I will face each of them again, I know. But what else could this possibly be about?

There are probably some unfinished discussions about division of chores, and sleep schedules, and what we’d like the child to call us (Mama, Mom, Mommie, Lady?). And I know there’s lots of unfinished decisions about finances, and daycare, and schools, and which baby food, bottle, binkie and blankets to buy. But that can’t be it, right?

And don’t even get me started on the “real” unfinished business of our personal work and journey as a couple. Do we still have stuff to work on? You bet! It would be pretty boring if we didn’t.

But I can’t imagine a requirement of getting all that in order before a child comes. First of all, it would be impossible. And second, why would that rule only apply to us? Or other couples trying to adopt? Seems like babies arrive to people with far more unfinished business than us, every single day.

So, I appreciated the opportunity to ponder this. But my final verdict is that we are ready to bring a baby into our family right now. Unfinished business and all.

Back to the easy stuff for a minute…you might think I missed the most obvious unfinished item- the baby room! But that one needs to stay unfinished, I think, until we get closer. It’s like saving the crispy edges of a brownie for your last bite – best for last!

The One That Got Away

Forgive me now, friend, if you’ve asked me how it’s been going with the adoption. I ask forgiveness because my answer was probably incomplete. Probably, I said something like, “Oh, fine. You know, waiting.” “Have you gotten any interest?” “Nope, not yet.”

The truth is we did have a nibble; a teeny, tiny nibble.

Today, January 8^th, is the due date for a particular baby boy and for a short time, there seemed a possibility he would come home with us.

They warned us about the roller coaster, and the heavy emotions, and the uncertainty. They did! I remember! But it doesn’t really matter once you are creeping up that slope, anticipating the drop, and then suddenly your stomach is 20 feet behind you as your body gets whipped around and everything goes upside-down.

The story goes something like this…

An acquaintance in our network, let’s call her our Informant, mentioned casually she knew someone who was pregnant and planning to place her baby for adoption. The family was really accepting so would be open to a lesbian couple adopting, but Birthmom was likely planning a closed adoption, because she didn’t want to have any involvement. “It would be perfect!” cheered our Informant, “if only it wasn’t a closed adoption.” We forgot about this “opportunity” almost as soon as it came up, since it didn’t appear to be an opportunity at all.

But a week later, our Informant left a voicemail and said there might be a possibility of open adoption. She hesitated, and asked if we would be ok if Grandma (birthmom’s mom) wanted to be involved. As it turns out, we were more than ok- this is exactly why we chose open adoption. Despite the challenges it will surely bring, it seems more grounding for the child to have some connection to the birth family. But back to the moment we listened to the voicemail…OMG!

So D called the next day, got more information, and agreed to bring a copy of our letter for Grandma. You see, there’s no direct connection to Birthmom, only Grandma. Tricky, right? As excited as we were to consider this possibility, we tried really hard to keep our feet firmly planted on the ground.

Some time passed, and I watched the Batphone carefully. Checked my email. Called the agency and got some advice about next steps. Daydreamed and cried a little. Listened to the silence.

We’ve learned each of these situations carries its own unique risks, based on the dynamics of the family. For this situation, the biggest risk seemed to be that Birthmom would choose a closed adoption, since that was her original preference. We checked in with our Informant several times, and she kindly apologized that she didn’t have any updates but would check back and let us know. And each day that passed seemed to support the inevitable outcome. Once Christmas came, and we hadn’t heard anything, it started to sink in that the opportunity had probably passed us by. Then New Year’s Eve. Then New Year’s Day. And here we are, January 8^th…nothing.

So, are we devastated? Fragile and weary? Not sure we can go on? Actually, no. The experience is the exact opposite. More than any other endeavor in my life, I feel this one is divine. I am sure this situation will unfold exactly the way it’s supposed to, and the little being intended for our family will find its way to us no matter what. I totally trust that, more than I trust myself. And hey- first bite after just a few weeks of circulation? Not bad!

And all along, it honestly felt like the outcome would bring good news either way. I mean, if we had been selected, so much obvious good news – He’s here! Our baby! And can you believe how fast? But not being selected also brings good news- we have a little more time to continue our preparations- after all January 8^th would have been pretty fast! I can still go to Miami for an important work meeting. D can continue her massage studies. And we can save a little more money. See? Good news!

And when I head to bed tonight, quieting my mind and preparing for deep rest, I will be comforted in knowing that somewhere, a family that had been waiting for their baby finally got to bring him home. Now that’s good news!

Sorry, Wrong Number

Since we went live, the Batphone has been very active. Unfortunately, the activity has nothing to do with babies:

"Uh, hello- I'm looking for electrical work. Please call me back at 860-759...."
"Shirley?"
"PARTY TONIGHT!!! Call me for details"
"Did you just send me a text?"
"Jose Cintos, it is urgent that you reply to this message at 800-999-...."

and my favorite, arriving in the middle of the Christmas Revels show...

"We are calling with a very exciting opportunity! How would you like to cut the costs of your long distance to mere pennies?!?!?!"

Sigh.

On the first two or three occasions the Batphone chirped, my heart definitely skipped a beat and a million different thoughts overwhelmed my imagination. Did she see us on the website? What will she ask me? Where's Dylan?!?!?!?!?!

But then, I read the text or listen to the voicemail and it's all like a pile of junkmail, delivered by FedEx, signature required. Hopes up, hopes dashed.

In some ways, this is good news. I think of it as being in training, like rehearsal. Because when the real calls start coming in, I'd honestly rather be operating from low expectations. Believe me, getting enthusiastic and engaged will not be a problem. But coming down from the clouds after thinking "this could be the one?" Kinda crushing.

So as we continue with our holiday busy-ness this week, so aware that this might be our last Christmas with just two stockings on the mantel, I'm sure the Batphone will keep disappointing me. But maybe, just maybe, we're also in for a pleasant surprise.

Merry Christmas!!