One of the last things I want to do is discourage anyone from the adoption process. I started to say the “last thing”, but that’s one of those universal statements… you know how I am about those. The last thing I’d want to do… geez. I mean, choosing which of my children to throw in a volcano, that might be the last thing. Or eating a worm. But yeah, discouraging you from adopting would make some kind of list. Like, discouraging you from adopting is on the top 2000 things I would never want to do. Probably.
The thing is, I am a bit of an early celebrator. In reality, most adopters probably don’t talk about the maybe calls, don’t notify the internets prior to an actual “match” with signatures on some kind of contract. We’ve never made it to that point, but I’ve notified the web and my poor family every time we get a potential match. I’m an optimist, sue me. I have a good feeling you wouldn’t win.
Monday night, we got an email about a set of twins, 4 months old. We prayed and panicked and decided to put our names in. It looks pretty iffy now, and even as an optimist, I’m pretty doubtful it will happen. Gotta tell you, though, I got my hopes up and fell hard.
Pain is part of the process. That’s life, though. If it doesn’t hurt, it probably wouldn’t be worth it. You know? All that to say, it’s worth it, to stretch yourself, take some risks and some falls, and grow.
And I might tell you again, about a maybe-baby and then it might not work out. I’d rather celebrate early.