Last week I felt frustrated and low. This week, largely thanks to me reaching out and telling a few folks how I was feeling, I feel more positive and calm. In terms of the process, R and I still cannot make a sense of it. When our SW tried to challenge it, she was told to get back in her place and that LO's social workers and the managers knew what they were doing and 'wanted to make this match work and needed to have time to do that'. (So do we, foolish people! And, surely, the best way to do that is for our son to get to know his parents as soon as possible, ending destructive contact sessions and beginning our lifelong bonding process???? But no, we must wait another few months whilst they 'look at the paperwork'.) But I came to a realisation that I can either rail against the system, feel angry and powerless and sad at all the precious weeks and months we're missing out on, or I can relax and settle back and know that soon we will be a family.
A friend who has also been through the adoption process sent me a poem. It made me cry, a good healing and
ultimately joyful cry, and reconnected me with the vital truth: that we
are mothers long before we are able to hold our child physically and
that energetically LO is already our son.
The poem reminded me of that so eloquently and tenderly. We look
at photos of him constantly and laugh aloud at some of his comic little
expressions...there is so much joy in the midst of all the bureaucracy,
so much laughter, connection, love - overflowing
love, and light. Our seaside home is the perfect place to experience all these
things - we wake to the sea, the tides,
the clouds, the birds laughing and playing on
the wind, the eternal cleansing and changing of nature, truly the most
healing and restorative way to be in the world. Sea swims wash away the
aggravation, windswept walks blow away the 'mind-fussing', clean, fresh
invigorating sea air fills us with optimism
and warm sun fills us with light. What a wonderful place for LO to
arrive into... We are truly blessed! There is a lifetime of 'moments'
ahead of us as a family, some wondrous, some challenging, but we have
surely had the very best start simply because of
this place, this dream-like place.
So I've been on lots of walks this week, through sleepy villages, along the seafront,
alongside rivers, through the newly-harvested fields, getting
deliciously lost in a forest as the sun went down. We're planning a
little wild camping on the edge of the same forest in a few
weeks time. R got me some new walking shoes from a charity shop and I tested them out yesterday on a long hike with friends -
brilliant! My feet were getting a little blistered in my old running
shoes but these are more comfortable and roomier,
and mean I will get as much walking in as I can before LO comes.
Wild flowers in abundance, sheep and cows grazing, skylarks on the wing, the
smell of woodland and warm grass... my sister bought us a
fantastic baby carrier - basically a large rucksack with
waist support but very ergonomic and beautifully made - so we can take LO out on our walks. I spent a large portion of my baby and
toddler-hood on my dad's back exploring the countryside so am excited to
share the same delights with LO.
And my best friend had her baby ten days early. I went to visit them with a feeling of love practically exploding my heart all the way on the train! He is breath-takingly perfect, delicate and wise-looking. He has his
dad's nose, his mum's elfin
facial structure and ears, and thick straight black hair - so much of
it! I felt in awe, that wonderful feeling of sheer surprise, as if I had slipped through a portal into Alice's Wonderland, to a place more radiant, colourful, alive, incredible and magical than the humdrum day-to-day. It stayed with me all evening, after I'd left the sleepy new family and was travelling back on the train, buzzing lightly in my chest. Soon, it will be me and R, holding our little one, gazing at him with a feeling of awe and wonder.
