Reaction observations

One of the huge emotional struggles that adopting parents have to push past when beginning the process is the fact that there are so many people out there having kids they don't want, or shouldn't have, and they're free to do so as they wish... when we have to be interviewed, tested, and approved by the government before we're "allowed" to be parents. Anger is a natural part of the process, but it's vital to have done as much dealing with it as possible before you begin interacting with your potential child, because they can sense moods and may read your anger as disapproval, or think you're angry with them. It's just not something the kids should have to deal with. Obviously, I do understand that our children will at some point deal with us being angry, but I'd like to keep my anger unrelated to the adoption process, since that's going to be the first and foremost Big Deal to the kids right now and won't help anyone if dealt with inappropriately.

Yesterday I was at church when I received the call from the county to schedule our health inspection. I'm trying to put all kinds of emotions into words here, and it's not working very well. Everything was... and still is... pretty overwhelming.

Overall, while I am very nervous, I'm mostly excited. Finally the process is moving forward. This is a wonderful thing! After calling Lanse and then calling my mom, I went down to tell the people who happened to be at church who are in my Bible study and always asks for updates. They were very excited for us! They are praying! This is good!

And then I went to find another friend who was working in the office, and someone else had just come in. Now, we're not keeping this a secret (obviously) so I didn't hesitate to share the news anyway. This other person asked what this inspection entails, and I explained what we have to do in general, what we got done for Bert's inspection, and what specifics we had left. Thinking back, my tone was a bit apologetic for some reason, like I was trying to convey 'yeah, this is kinda silly, but it's what we're doing.' So from that perspective, I guess I can understand her reaction. She looked at me with pity and a smile and, dripping with sarcasm, said, "I completely understand. Because, you know, my garage was completely childproof when I had my baby, and I padded my walls, too, just in case." Then she lost her sarcasm and in a very caring voice said how sorry she was that we had to deal with such incredible nonsense, etc.

So now I'm really angry again. Oddly, though, I'm angry with her and not the government, because her response made me angry. (That's rather circular...) I honestly thought I'd gotten over that part, and I'd moved on. I was excited about moving forward, glad that we had everything under control for next week's inspection... this is just What Must Be Done. But her response was like... someone with six kids who never suffered a drop of morning sickness watch her friend heaving into the toilet pregnant with her first and saying, "Isn't morning sickness awful? I'm so sorry." No one would even think of being that cruel.

Anyway, I'm angry and upset. I also realize that I shouldn't be; her reaction is exactly the same as our reactions to hearing we had to go through this. It's exactly what I should expect but for some reason I didn't, and it was like this huge heavy wet blanket over my excitement.

Yes, we're sorting and organizing, installing weird plastic devices, locking cabinets, cleaning the house to ridiculous extent. I am being observed, interviewed, and graded. I am not, however, throwing up for nine months, on oxygen or bed rest, eating pickle ice cream sandwiches, or looking forward to a tentative high-risk surgical birth. In the end, I'm pretty sure it'll be worth it.