keepin it real

You get a phone call in the middle of the day and your heart stops in it's tracks.  It's "her".  Your adoption consultant.  She only calls if there's news.  There's 2 kids that need homes NOW.  Would you be willing to take them?  You freeze, your heart skips several beats, and you suddenly want to vomit.  Of course, of course we will take them.  Meeting tomorrow morning with the agency?  Sure, we will make it happen. What to do...what to do?  You walk in circles, call those closest to you.  Try not to get excited they say.  You've been hurt enough.  Of course I won't.  In actuality, you already have the names picked out.  You know who you can get clothes, toys, a bed from.  Try not to get your heart set on it.  It's just a meeting.  In actuality, you have their education and their life story already planned.  You don't sleep a wink that night thinking of "them".  What do they look like?  Will they love us?  The meeting takes forever.  You suddenly have spastic colon and want to throw up.  Am I coming across as good enough?  Do they see how much I love this man beside me?  Do they see what an amazing man and father he is?  The cost?  oh...the cost.  That's fine.  We will figure it out.  We will sell all of our possessions and move into a shack if need be.  Kids are worth it right?  You leave feeling like you've been hit by a truck.  The meeting was fabulous, you debate about whether or not to tell the other little one in your life.  You get home, want to sleep but so much to do.  Coffee it is!  Then, the phone call again.  Your head spins, you pace, you beg God to make this happen.  It's too perfect you have said so many times in the past 24 hours.  Oh, someones talking to me.  Oh...Oh...ok, I see.  And the world stops turning.  It's not going to happen.  We don't fit the mold of what they are looking for. Suddenly the names, the plans, the hope disappears, and once again, you are left with a hole the size of Texas in your heart. This, sadly, is the reality of adoption.  It's the ups, the downs, the severe downs.  You have been taught to praise the Lord even in horrible circumstances.  What you really want to do is crawl into the bottom of that old Tequilla bottle and don't come out.  Put on the happy face.  Dry the tears in front of the kiddos.  And you move on and continue to fight when every ounce of your being wants to give up.  Adoption, in its purest form, is one of the most beautiful experience this world can offer.  The road is hard, though.  We're taking a break...licking our wounds....rethinking every decision made in this journey...and contemplating whether or not we have what it takes to continue.  It's a time in life when we don't want to discuss it.  We don't want to hear how it will "all work out" in the end.  That God has a child for us.  I don't want to hear it right now.  I've had enough Christianese for a year.  What I know, is that my God is good.  He is a just God and I love him.  I am mad as hell at him right now, but I deeply love him and he knows that.