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| Will they choose us this time? |
After my last post it became difficult for me to write again. I was weighing the benefits of shared disappointment. Was it better to keep it light with others and suffer these losses alone, or to face the sadness of others in order to experience their support? I could not decide. So I did not write when we lost out on Jonathan, the red-head. I did not tell my family. It was as if telling everyone made it final. It served only to remind me that we were again waiting for no one. For Godot.
My pride wounded and enthusiasm stunted, I did not receive the next broadcast well. Another group of three, the kids had Easter clothes and country names. They were adorable. A boy and 2 girls, 6, 5 and 3 years. Their broadcast came through two weeks after we were turned down for Jonathan. I sent it to Shawn, who was ready to submit for them. But I couldn't do it.
All I could see in the broadcast for these three was the coming rejection. Another email, a month from now, with their names in the subject line and something similar to the text we'd just received:
I just heard from the case worker for Jonathan and she has chosen three other families to be considered for Jonathan. We will keep looking.
So I waited. And I waited too long. There was a deadline on the broadcast that gave me about a week to think on it, and think on it is what I did. A lot. Finally, I submitted us for the three. What came back was another shock. The caseworker had received so many home studies so quickly that she had cut off submissions the day after she sent out her broadcast. Meaning she gave only one day to submit instead of the posted week. We missed out, though I'm not sure on what. On those kids? Or on another rejection? Regardless, I apologized to my husband for my reluctance and the unsuspected outcome.
Ten days later came a broadcast for a group of four. 2 boys, 2 girls, aged 12, 10, 8 and 3. Pictured with Santa. This was way too much for us to handle. I didn't even write back.
Meanwhile, parents are busy with their summer plans. Camp, swimming lessons, vacations and staycations. Every third Facebook post is somebody's kid doing something precious. My best friend in the whole world is pregnant and due in October. They know when their child will arrive. Those who know me well are aware of the family from my school I've been mentoring for over a year. Immigrant mom, five kids, lots of issues. While I love them and care deeply for them (and they for me), there are constant reminders that they aren't mine, and I can see what a difference it makes. When a child is sick, he only crawls in bed with Mom.
Which brings us back to Destiny. I had to laugh at the subtext when the broadcast came through. See, Destiny is a 7 year old girl. Her brother is 4. They are biracial, a first among the children we've considered so far. Destiny has been beaten. She has been abandoned by her mother. She lives in a fantasy world she has created to numb her pain. Her brother knows her as the only mother he's ever had. No pictures were sent of Destiny. I do not know what Destiny looks like. I do not know what will happen to her, whether she will be ours. We submitted for her and her brother on June 5. So again we wait. This time, for an email from Destiny.
