Baby W

While I was laid up post-surgery, my mother and I perused the mountain of adoption agency packets the husband and I gathered at the adoption conference in Jersey (in New Jersey! We drove to New Jersey - this is ridiculously perceived as a wild adventure for those who live in NYC and see no reason to go beyond its borders). One agency's packet contained a photo book of children waiting for adoption, many with special needs. One child, an infant, Baby W, was missing part of one ear. He had no other medical needs and his hearing seemed to be fine. My mother and I stared at this baby with the wild shock of black hair for a long time. Eventually, I e-mailed the agency and requested more information. This week, the coordinator e-mailed that I should be receiving his packet shortly. Today, however, I got another e-mail that he's been adopted.

I am thrilled for this family, of course. Mostly. There was a split moment, however, when I felt incredibly sad (and jealous). I'd already imagined meeting him for the first time. I'd thought about what milestones he may be missing if he's in an institution (which in this case, he may not be). I hoped he was getting as much one on one care as possible. I saw us going and getting him. I saw myself reviewing his packet of medical information with the famous Manhattan adoption doctor with the blue rimmed glasses. I imagined the husband videotaping our first meeting and he and I crying and Baby W just staring into our eyes, mostly confused. I saw his little hands. And I saw myself kissing his little face. I wondered how he would feel about being from a different race and culture than his adoptive parents. I'd thought about him searching for his birth parents when he was older. I'd thought about the two of us sitting down and writing letters together to send to his birth mother through his agency. And including his brilliant drawings.

I'd thought all of these things without even realizing it.

It should be noted that we have not applied with this agency - we have not applied with any agency. We're still in the very beginning stages of all of this - and I was getting completely, totally, utterly carried away, ridiculously, for just a few moments. And I recognize my ability to over-dramatize at these times - because, I suppose, everything is so rife with emotion when it comes to building your family in a non-traditional way (i.e., through infertility treatments or adoption or third party reproduction).

I'm beginning to get a small taste, however, that I may be leaving one area of uncertainty for another. Although thankfully, adoption, unlike infertility, guarantees you will be a parent in the end. But really, it's still going to be a damn roller coaster.