Experiencing infertility is hard enough, but when you switch gears from giving up the dream of having a biological child to wanting to raise another child through adoption, it becomes a whole different ballgame.
Infertility had stripped away the intimacy over conceiving a child and adoption was going to make things very, very public. Intellectually, you know that, but emotionally it takes some getting used to. I tried to be optimistic, after all this is what you do when you can’t have a child but want one, right? It wasn’t a call of duty for me, but a strong desire to fulfill some sense of loss in me. Now, I have to say I wasn’t in this desire alone. Hubby had wanted to turn to adoption sooner than I had. But I was too busy grieving and wondering if I should even have children at all. You know, cause if it hadn’t happened, then “maybe it wasn’t meant to be”. I was still waiting for a miracle.
The months crawled by; I tried to rebuild and redefine my life. I remembered the beauty of cherry blossoms and when I finally released the hope of the little girl who never was, we got a call that eventually lead us to our son.
It seemed like the only way I could rise about the drama that ensued was if I stopped trying to control the outcome. Do you have any idea of how difficult that was for someone like me? It was BRUTAL. I’m not a let go, let god type of person. I’m a “don’t tell me I have to drink from the coloured fountain, I’ll show you” type of girl. I have a tendency to want to go back and undo the past (so envious of Superman) but no matter how hard I tried, my supernatural powers failed me. I thought being a Buddhist was all about controlling what happens to me. Wrong. It’s about controlling yourself. (“..become the master of your mind rather than let your mind master you.”)
I lost a lot of things in the fire you might say. I lost my innocence, I lost my faith (but gained it back) and I lost who I thought I was supposed to be. But I gained a lot as well. I still haven’t fully realized the scope of having this child in my life. He has devoured the time I probably would have taken to get myself into more trouble, no doubt. He cares not a whit about my existential angst, he cares about getting fed, being held and being adored.
He’s a lot like me in a way.