Surprised by Joy

Well yesterday we met our new baby! I still can't believe it, even as I type this.

Up until early last week, we still didn't know whether this was going to happen. We'd had the match, but the final decision had been delayed and we'd had to wait. I'd lived the past five weeks in a weird foggy state, not really engaging in any emotions in some ways. I was coping, but only by not letting myself think about the impending court date. If I did, I tried to simply see it as something we needed to get past so that we could enjoy a nice holiday and a chilled out summer. I prepared for a no, started to think about the new academic year and the things I'd be doing with work. I saw the court date as a bother, something that would bring more bad news but nothing new; something that I wished could be over with so that we could move on and start searching for a match again.

Spiritually, I was okay. I learnt a bit more about bringing everything to God, and not having to perform or do or say a certain thing in prayer. I was simply coming to him, as I had nowhere else to go. I had doubts and questions and grievances and complaints and I took them all to him. I struggled to pray for things, requests I mean, but I was still coming. I saw time with God, his presence, as coming to rest under a shady tree. That's the image that kept coming back to me.

But then the court date arrived - two days back to back - and I wasn't too well. Thankfully we had planned for Bounce's birthday party to clash with the court hearing so we were super busy. I spent any free moments looking for last minute holiday options, and doing endless codewords and crosswords to keep my mind busy. On the second day, once the party was done with, I felt terrible. My head was pounding and I didn't want to be anywhere near my phone; I had to give it to Hubby to keep hold of. We tried just being at home, then I tried napping, and then we just had to get out. I was restless, it was boiling hot, my head was really sore, and I was grumpy and irritable. The number of times in the past year that I've been waiting for some communication from our social worker, and still it was nearly killing me.

We went to the park for a play and then out for tea - there was something about going home that we just didn't want to do. I felt ill and had no appetite. I knew (thought I knew) what news was coming, but still the anticipation of actually hearing it was almost unbearable. Despite all my preparations for disappointing news, I couldn't cope with the thought of it actually coming. I didn't let myself give in to any daydreams about what it might be like if it were good news. Well maybe one or two slipped through the net but they were cut short within milliseconds.

And then Helen texted. And that was it.

I didn't believe her. Well, I did, but I didn't believe that it was good news. I assumed it must be partially good but that we'd still have to wait, or that someone else would have to agree, or that we'd need to sort this and that first before getting a definite yes.

But I was wrong. The judge had decided to agree with social services' recommendation for adoption, and so the plans they'd drawn up for us to adopt her would go ahead.

I cried and felt ill and we didn't know what to do or say or who to tell or what to do. And really, two weeks later, it still hasn't sunk in.