Wednesday, December 31, 2008

A hopeful 2009



Yesterday as I gave my dad a big hug at the airport, I almost said, "next time we see you maybe we'll have a baby." Then I stopped myself. No more next times. I've been doing next times for awhile. Two years ago, I spent a raucous weekend in Las Vegas celebrating my sister's 21st birthday, and remember thinking the trip was a last hurrah before motherhood. Two summers ago I left Colorado, pregnant and thought, "next summer we'll be bringing our little one." We've celebrated two New Year's thinking, "in this coming year we will become parents." So, as I was wrapped in a dad hug, I let go of next time.

As I ring in 2009, I will be hopeful that this year will bring us Baby Barto. But I will not hold onto the expectation too tightly, so I can attempt to be open to whatever the universe has in store.

P.S. I promise you that I do think about other things besides Baby Barto related topics. But as our time on the waitlist hits the 24 week mark (which was the last week I wrote in my calendar when I made a countdown back in September), I am trying to embrace the lessons the wait is teaching me. And since most lessons take some time to learn, the blog is a nice place to share the process.

Santa & Me

Jose & Me after a yummy mountain breakfast

Sunday, December 21, 2008

The Best Kind of Day

This weekend Jose and I watched the first two seasons of The Office. I think it ended up being about 30 episodes. We snuggled on the couch, ordered take-out, drank wine and laughed a lot. This now enters the Lazy Day Hall of Fame along with the Dr. 90210 marathon and playing Cooking Mama on the Wii until our hands hurt.




(Not a photo from this weekend but I thought it went with the theme)

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Aunt Cathy

Yesterday I received a box of yummy treats from my Aunt Cathy. In this box of goodness, there is a batch of monster cookies, which are the best cookies ever. I'm currently munching on one as I write this post. They are delicious. During my first year of teaching, I had a stockpile of these cookies in the freezer and would break into them after an awful day. I think I made them last until the spring and that took a lot of willpower because in that first year, most days were pretty bad. Not only are these treats filled with peanut butter, m&ms, chocolate chips, but also Aunt Cathy mixes in a little love, her infectious smile and kindness.

Thanks Aunt Cathy!

(Leaving month #5)

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Release

Even with all my attempts at being in the moment (as chronicled in previous posts), I've started feeling like my baby expectations are weighing me down. They are ever present. I play the "I wonder if" game. I wonder if the next time I see my mom Baby Barto will be with us? I wonder if next Christmas we'll be carting a little one to see Santa and light displays? I wonder if Baby Barto will be here when the next season of Entourage is on? It's like every future event, is prefaced with "I wonder if." At first this was a fun game to play, but as I watch things slow down a bit in adoption-land the "I wonder if" is starting to get exhausting. And even with a referral, we'll still nave more unknown waiting to do. Waiting for court, waiting for travel.

In an effort to let some of this go, I made a list. A list of all those thoughts, the counting, the wishes and expectations taking up space in my brain. And I set them on fire (in the grill). I wanted to symbolically release all these longings into the universe. I needed to feel lighter, to be more in the moment. As I watched the flame engulf my list, I started worrying that a spark would blow into the leaves and start a fire that would burn down our neighborhood. So, I put it out. (I know this is rather unlikely, but still I would've felt guity it I burnt down our neighborhood. Try explaining that to the neighbors and the fire department.)

But it felt good to acknowledge that I do have some control. I have control over how I approach the waiting, the unknown. I can control how I spend these next months. Rather than thinking about how something is missing from my life, I can enjoy all that is in my life right now, in this very moment. I can get excited for the holidays and the time spent with family and friends. I can send love into the world for Baby Barto, the people caring for him/her and for his/her first family. I can let go.

Entering a new week filled with possibilities.