The Rollercoaster

You know that feeling of being in line for a rollercoaster right?  Then you sit down and there is a moment where the bar goes down and seatbelt is tightened and you get this feeling like maybe you made a mistake.  Usually you have a friend or someone next to you and a nervous glace passes between the two of you.  The ride clicks up and up and up and then there is one horrible moment at the top of the first hill where your breath catches before you fly down, twisting and turning.  You're screaming or just trying to breathe.  You try to focus on the track ahead of you, but its going too fast.  And then before you know it the ride slows and everyone gives a nervous laugh.  It's over and you've survived.

Well, the last three weeks have been a real life rollercoaster for us.  There was an exhilerating moment when we got the "call" around February 18, just days after my last post.  We were shocked!  And scared!  We accepted the opportunity and the bar went down and the seat belt tightened.  The baby was due March 6, it was a boy, and we were going to be his parents.

We started clicking to the top of the ride.  We cautiously contacted some friends and family, we prepared the nursery, and it started to become real.  But then began the twists and turns, loops and tunnels.  We lost contact with the birthmom for 5 days and just when the adoption liaison was about to put us back on the website she came back.  Her phone had been broken/lost and she could only email from an 'old phone'.  She begged us to overlook the 'craziness' and extolled a million reasons why she was still ready to adopt.  The bar was already down, the seatbelt was already tightened and so we moved on.  Cautiously at first and then with more excitement and love each day the rollercoaster rolled on, time speeding up so that we barely recall the days and nights.

Until March 5th.  We lost contact again casting us into the darkest tunnel.  We worried and fretted.  Was she okay?  Was the baby okay?  Was she in the hospital?  Did we need to leave for New York?  And then the ride abruptly ended just as abruptly as it had begun.  The phone rang and it was over.  She was okay.  She was in the hospital, but she didn't need us to come. 

Other adoptive parents that I talk to say that they truly believe that we end up with the children we are meant to parent.  And I agree.  But a little part of my heart will always be tied to that little boy in New York whom I should be holding right now.

There is nothing left to do but get back in line for the rollercoaster and trust that the next one will end with tears of happiness instead of sadness.