One day at a time

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Our paperwork is all in.  We're that much closer now to being on the list and putting ourselves out there for another baby.  We still have the home study to get through, which should be easier this time around (I think it's only one afternoon this time instead of three home visits like it was the first time).

We (I) spent the past few weeks pouring over our dear birth parent letter.  The details almost felt ridiculous (What colour of background should I choose?  What font size and style?  How many pictures?  Do I look too forced happy in said pictures?  Do I talk about our open relationship with Aurora or do we leave that for when we meet?  What thickness of paper do I print the copies on?).  But, ridiculous or not, I know a lot of these things actually do matter - the first step in having an opportunity to parent a child is standing out in some way on paper and connecting with an expectant mom/family.  But the reality is that font size and parenting have absolutely nothing in common.

Our checklists, criminal record checks and medicals were a piece of cake.  We are veterans of these processes and jumped through the hoops with flying colours.  The dear birth parent letter wasn't as bad this time either, as we used the same template as our last one and we could easily talk about what we like to do as a family rather than what we hope to do as a family. 

But now that everything is out of our hands, honestly, it's hard.  There is a lot that is about to happen to us here that is completely out of my control.  I feel like I'm back in the throes of infertility and leaving so much up to the universe.  And I don't like it.

Apollo dropped off the last of our paperwork earlier this week and I think I sort of expected some type of fanfare related to this occasion.  I think I expected someone at the agency to hug him or something and tell him how excited they are for us as a family.  But when I asked him what their reaction was, he told me the only one around was the receptionist and the only thing she asked him was if he wanted to wait around while she made sure all of our documents were in order.  He didn't, so he said the whole encounter lasted a grand total of 2 minutes.

We have a lot to do before our home study is scheduled (I think we'll get the call next week sometime to schedule our home study visit in the next couple weeks, based on what happened last time).  I'm not neurotic about cleaning or anything before our social worker comes, but we do need to visually baby-proof (yes, Moonbeam is 16 months, I know I know.  Please don't judge!).  Our house is as baby proof as it needs to be for our family, but from a paperwork perspective, we know there are some things we need to take care of.

So we still have tasks to complete, which helps to alleviate the anxiety around my loss of control.  But sometimes when I stop "doing" and just start "feeling", I get a little freaked out.  I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about all of this.  I'm not sure how I do feel about all of this.  I've been bumbling along pretty nicely over the past year and a half as though I'm just a normal mom.  Now I'm forced to remember that I am a mom faced with infertility.  And as you know, there's nothing comforting about that thought.

I am not in the dark at all this time either about the ups and downs that are about to happen in my family.  There is the home study itself that is unnerving.  Then there's the waiting part, the uncertainty part.  Then the match part and even more uncertainty and hope, which is hard to hold on to, right?  In our world enveloped by infertility, you don't even want to dare to hope - there's too much at stake to let your heart go there.

But one day at a time I guess.  That's all I can expect of myself and all I can expect of Apollo.  And all I can expect from this process, really.  The longing part has subsided, thanks to my role as mother to Moonbeam.  I know I'm one of the lucky ones and I don't feel all tangled up with the uncertainty as to whether I'm ever going to be a mother.  I'm just tangled up with the knowledge and experience of how rough the road ahead is.  The journey is beautiful, don't get me wrong and totally worth it in the end.  But the ruts ahead are deep and there are some significant emotional obstacles that we'll be faced with, this I know. 

But, we're packing up and moving ahead.  Apollo is committed and I am too.  Part of me wants to alleviate all risk and just accept our lives as they currently are.  But I know that the risk part is only one piece of the whole process and that at the end of it all, it's amazing.  I'm just scared.

One day at a time.