All the Feels

I don't even know how I'm feeling at the moment. I can't think of a description without resorting to overused phrases relating to rollercoasters (thanks Ronan Keating). And really that wouldn't be very accurate anyway as it's mostly the down-er sections of the rollercoaster at the moment.

We are thrilled to have been matched. Totally thrilled and wonder-struck. It's what we've been waiting for.

But also, it's not really what we've been waiting for. We've been waiting for a baby - a lovely little one to come to our family, a little sibling for Bounce to be big brother to. And we are still waiting for this. But now it's different.

Someone, somewhere, has decided that we are the right family for this little one to come to. And now, a judge needs to agree that adoption is the right plan for this baby. And so we are waiting for the outcome of the court hearing, which is scheduled for sometime soon. Helen is optimistic that a final decision will be made at this hearing, whereas the baby's social worker - Lisa - doesn't seem to agree.

We met her - Lisa - the other day, and it was weird. It was a weird meeting. She was...weird. If you've read any of my other posts, you'll probably now be thinking, 'Ah - standard - she's got it in for social workers so no surprises that she doesn't like this one. Change the record.' But - it's really not like that! We just had a strange impression from her.

For starters, there was absolutely zero emotional warmth, empathy or even awareness of how we might be feeling. I don't want at all to give them impression that this situation is harder for us than it is for anyone else involved - we obviously don't think that at all. But it felt off that she made no mention of being pleased the match had been made, no congratulations, well wishes or 'ooh you must be so excited!' She made no efforts AT ALL to get to know the two of us, asked nothing about Bounce, showed no interest in how we were feeling or what things we'd being doing to get ready. The only person she showed any emotional awareness of was the current foster carers, who - according to her - are going to find it very difficult when the baby gets placed with adopters. It was weird. And I get it - she was there to share the baby's CPR and to answer questions. But still, it's not quite what we were expecting.

In contrast to Helen, Lisa was not convinced that the final decision would be made in the upcoming hearing. She kept mentioning the particular judge that's lined up and she was hinting that he would be a "difficult sell" due to this and that. She was moaning at us about things that she just "knew" would be thrown at her about the birth mum's situation, and basically was rolling her eyes at us and sort of just grumbling about what she assumed would happen. She then laughingly told us that she is going on leave the next day, and so if it's not resolved then it will have to be delayed by four weeks to await her return. Again she didn't acknowledge that this would be a bit a bitter pill.

We asked Lisa whether the baby could be moved in on an FFA basis even if a final decision isn't made, and she was very reluctant about this, despite initially reassuring us that once the baby's moved in there's no way a judge will remove them back to birth mum. She said she wouldn't want to risk this happening if we went down the FFA route; even when I pointed out that, in our understanding, this is the nature of FFA, she wasn't up for it at all. She said she would follow it up with the legal team and pursue this as an alternative, but we don't feel assured that she will do as she says.

So we have another few days of waiting - but we don't know what we're waiting for! It could be a final decision, followed by an almost immediate start to introductions (yay!), it could be that paperwork isn't finalised and the whole thing gets delayed, or it could be that the judge delays the final hearing until the baby's social worker is back off leave. Another 4 weeks of waiting would be hard.

Yeh, hard. About that....

I'm finding this period hard, and it's hard to know why it's hard. It's hard to hold onto the excitement that we've been matched, and that things are coming together to pair us up with this precious little life, while also holding back a bit because the final decision could end up being that it's better for birth mum to be given another chance. We can't fly unfettered into "YAY!" territory, arms wide and giving it everything, because this might not be it. But, we still need to prepare. We still need to get the room ready, buy stuff, tell people, and start making arrangements at work. Because it could be a matter of days now.

It feels so muddled. And I hate feeling like this. I feel like I did before, when we were waiting for a match. I've closed up a bit, shrunk back, and have got a bit tight and bitter and sad and knotted up. I don't want to let myself feel anything, so I feel partially numb, but - horrendously - it's only the positive emotions which I'm blocking out. It's so annoying and silly. There are things to feel happy and excited and hopeful about, but it's 'easier' (is it, though?) to do what I'm doing and tighten up a bit.

I've made baby blankets, I've planned the intros book, I've cleared the baby's room and I've bought a new car seat. But I resolutely have not enjoyed any of it. It's horrid. I've felt numb and almost resentful of having to do any of it. Argh I cannot express how it feels to be living this at the moment. We've shared the wonderful news with close friends, but then have had to dampen it down and invariably others are far more excited and happy than we feel. I feel exhausted emotionally and I hate it.

I was thinking earlier that if the worst happens (for us I mean - most of this is written from a purely selfish point of view) and this all falls through, then will the fact that I'm making myself feel like this now make any difference? Will I cope better with that later disappointment because I'm trying so hard now to stay reserved and distant and not going for this all wholeheartedly? Probably not. I can't imagine how that will feel but I'm certain that my current outlook won't make it any easier. So why not just enjoy this now, while I can, and allow myself to feel good and positive? Maybe I'll try it.

Match Made!

So... as of 4 weeks ago, we have a match! It's bizarre that I haven't written about it yet because in some ways it's the only thing worth writing about. I've somehow managed to waffle on for 14 blog posts without saying very much at all I suppose. But this was always intended to be a way of charting the journey, and so I suppose part of that journey is simply not really feeling like writing much.

So - how do I sum up how things have been for the past month?? Well, initially - and this is all I'll focus on in this post - there was jubilation! Helen phoned me when I was on the train, on the way home from a two day conference. It had been an interesting week. And by interesting I mean bad/good.

We had been told that there were two babies that they were family finding for, and that there were two families waiting. The odds were in our favour (even my Maths skills stretch that far), so we, and Helen, felt fairly hopeful. The first matching meeting was scheduled for a Friday, and at the end of the day we found out that the decision hadn't gone our way. We felt like we'd been kicked. We felt bruised and battered. We felt that they'd got it wrong - we really believed we were the right match. How could they not see that? How could anyone else have possibly been a better match? They had even been looking for a church-going family. If we couldn't get there even in this case, how would we ever?! We were gutted, exhausted and cross. It turned out the thing that had swung it was that the birth mother was likely to have further children, and the other adopters were in a better position to provide a home for those future children... It stung a bit, and it riled me in the same way anything riles me where I am directly affected and yet have no way of influencing events or sharing my thoughts or even entering into a dialogue.

The second matching meeting, for baby number two, was scheduled for the Monday. That day, I felt unwell all day. Not physically as such, but I did not feel good. I was permanently expecting my phone to go, and the anticipation just really got to me. I suppose I was preempting bad news. I was irritable and sad even though there was a chance we'd get good news. My response was to shut down, close in and let myself feel bad. We hadn't been told that the meeting would be taking place at the end of the day, and it wasn't until around 6pm that we heard from Helen - via email - that a decision hadn't been reached... it was, essentially, a tie break. And the decision-maker didn't see how she could make a decision any sooner than Wednesday at the earliest. Bad timing, because I was booked in on this two day conference, without Hubby, for Wednesday and Thursday. The prospect of more bad news, delivered to me while I was on my own, made me feel terrible.

I somehow got through. I mean it sounds ridiculous now; it's not like I endured an iron man marathon or had to rebuild my house after a devastating flood, or even got served a cup of tea made with skimmed milk. But it felt big - going away on my own, with friends but still, not with Hubby, having to "wear my work hat" and hold things together. I was determined not to be glued to my phone, obsessively checking it, but I must admit I didn't quite manage that.

Well I got through, and got on the train and headed home. And then Helen rang - and as soon as I saw my phone light up I knew it would be good news. Bad news and she'd have emailed. I cried down the phone, stammered out a few words, and that was that. Good news. At last.