This morning at 5:15 am I woke up to the sound of our fire alarm yelling at me. Not the typical beeping they do, yelling at me! It screeches ‘DANGER! DANGER! FIRE! FIRE!’. So panic starts, I leap out of bed and realize Husbando wasn’t in bed with me. That rat better not have left me here to burn! As I turn the corner I begin to smell burning so I am freaking out that this may be real. Not the scrapbooks!! After a little rubbing of my eyes I realize that Husbando is actually standing under the detector fanning it with a sheet pan. How bad does this man need a midnight snack?! The bacon smoke was overwhelming. I asked if there was a real fire and after I was assured my belongings were safe, I headed back to bed. Boy, you are going to get an ear-full in the morning! I pulled the covers back up and then laid there for 45 minutes staring into the dark. I’m gonna kill him. My adrenaline was raging through my veins at a rate that would not let my heart stop beating out of my chest. Further, the ruckas from the kitchen was so loud, it could only mean one thing. I’m gonna be cleaning for days to get that crap off the ceiling. He was making birthday breakfast. Around 5:50 he came waltzing into the room carrying a tray with the most delicious-looking omlette, biscuits, juice, and the most eye-catching… a jewelry bag.
We had quite the early wake-up call so I was fresh and alert for my breakfast. Then I got to open my sweet card and the jewelry bag. Diamond hoops! That was totally worth jolting out of bed for.
The rest of the day went much better. Husbando had the week off from work so I met him and some other friends for lunch, he sent me beautiful flowers and then took me to an amazing dinner at Carrabba’s. When we got home he went off to his second job but in the frige I found the most decadent dessert ever… raspberry tiramisu he had made while I was at work. What a great guy! My annual birthday luau is coming up and I can’t wait to party with everyone! Hopefully next year we have a few more people to party with us but I’m pretty sure I said the same thing last year so no jinxing it!
One day I searched ‘adoption’ on Instagram and found some pretty cool photos mixed in with 145,878 dog photos. Ever since that night I have done the same search before drifting off to sleep each night. Not only do I find some awesome stuff but the scrolling also puts me to sleep. Couple weeks ago I stumbled upon something called the Adoption Swap Box. What a fun idea! This wonderful woman decided to do something for women who are adopting or have already adopted. For two separate rounds she randomly gives you a name and email address of another woman to start communicating with. You email, social media stalk and just get to know them. In a couple weeks you send them a box of treasures. The box has to have at least $25 worth or treasure and there needs to be at least five items. Can be handmade things, can be purchased and really should reflect them and their journey. You also agree to pray for the woman’s prayer requests and their adoption process. How cool is all this?!
So duh, I signed up and today I sent my first email introducing myself. I can’t wait to get to know her and my round two adoptress. I haven’t met many people who are sitting in our position so this could be very helpful. While I was writing my letter I couldn’t help but think I sounded a little over-eager. I obviously want to know as much as possible so that I can fill her box with the best stuff but it came off like HI I’M CARYNN AND I WANNA BE BESTIES FOR THE RESTIES. WHATS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR? DO YOU LIKE MEATLOAF TOO?!
I’m sure it was fine but still felt a little funny. So there ya have it, I’m trying new adoption-y things. Putting myself out there and hoping for the best. Haven’t talked to our worker in a couple weeks so maybe while I’m riding this high, I’ll drop her a line too…
What lesson did I learn most recently in our adoption process? We had diarrhea of the mouth when we were approved to adopt Single Rider and then had to go back and tell everyone we knew that we were not going to adopt her. That freaking sucked. Everyone was so excited that its all we were asked about for a week. There was a fine line between what we could/wanted to tell and not wanting to seem like bad people for declining their offer for what may have seemed like no reason. I know people weren’t judging us for our decision but that feeling was still there, irrational or not. I felt an overwhelming need to justify our decision so people wouldn’t think we were looking for perfect, blonde-haired, blue-eyed kids with zero problems. Duh, everyone in DHS has issues and we know what we’re getting ourselves into. We also know things we are NOT willing to get ourselves into and I am so proud we made the right choice when it would have been so very easy to make the wrong one.
Preface to the next section: Miscarriages are a big deal and I want to say that in no way am I trying to say we felt the same pain that a grieving parent does.
Obviously what happened to us isn’t as hard as an actual miscarriage but we definitely now realize more seriously what people must feel having to tell everyone over and over. Reliving the sadness and answering the same questions wares on you all through this process and people don’t mean to make me cry but damn its hard to keep those tears in my eyes sometimes.
From now on we will hold our cards closer to the chest and that way no one can ask about what they don’t know. Its for our protection as well as our family and friends. They hurt when we hurt and some hurt even more when they think they have hurt us by asking something that upsets me. So there you have it, just something that I learned and wanted to share, not that I haven’t always known I should keep my mouth shut more… Just ask my mom.
Hello, my name is Carynn and I am an over-planner.
I hate when people tell me not to put the cart before the horse. I cannot help that the only activity I was ever allowed to do was Girl Scouts and therefore, have no other skills. I actually enjoy planning things. I am good at it. I can plan a fundraiser weekend in 13 minutes, depending on the hold time at the Wal*Mart deli line. I can plan a birthday party in the blink of an eye. Its just what I do and I don’t apologize for it.
Fast forward to when the car salesman asked us why on earth we need three rows in our new car. My mental response was ‘none of your damn business’ and my mouth said something like ‘going to have a big family so we need lots of room’. His eyes said he was thinking the car was not going to last long enough for me to push out three kids and because I wanted to explain/can’t keep my mouth shut, I told him the short version of our adoption story.
‘We are adopting. Hopefully three or four kids and they could come any time so we need to be ready.’
Long story short, he shut up and moved forward with getting us in that car. We bought a 2007 crimson Jeep Commander and I love all 6,800 pounds of the luxury tank with a six-disc changer and sunroof.
So what does Tank have to do with over-planning? Well we bought a big-ass cart before we have any horses to pull it. Wait, that was horrible. Let me try again…
We went and bought a big-ass cart before we know how many horses we’ll have to pull it. Bam! There we go, connection made! I am planning on a big family even before we know how many kiddos we will have. We need to be able to all ride together and the days before we go pick up our kids (and God do I pray for that day) we do not need to be worrying about car shopping.We’re good to go now thanks to my over-planning so everybody hop in, we’re goin’ to Wally World!
Geeze Carynn, enough with the silent treatment already! Put your big girl panties on and write something!
Okay, okay, I’m sorry for being so quiet. I was having a hard time there for about a week but then I got super busy and lazy and tired and lets just move on. Why was I having a hard time? Well mostly because of our failed adoption approval. We really REALLY wanted to adopt Single Rider and on the surface it seemed like things were moving along perfectly for once. The disclosure meeting felt like a punch in the stomach and even walking out of that office I was crying because I knew we were going to have to decline letting her move in with us. To be honest, I don’t feel like they should have ever offered her to us because they knew we couldn’t accept. We were feeling the guilt for about 2 minutes but then we were mostly upset at the adults that failed her in her life. I hear anger toward birthparents is normal.
Bad parents infuriate me and I know I will need to bridle my tongue against our kids hearing my real thoughts on the people who threw away a chance to be the best thing in the world… their parent. It is completely inconceivable to ‘normal’ people like myself that a person could treat their child so poorly the government gets involved. Then, they continue to treat children in a way that gets their parental rights severed. DHS gives you about 1,367 chances to keep your kid. They don’t want to have to take them. I often just want to grab parents in the elevator of the DHS building and shake them! WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU THINKING?!?!
The rational part of me knows that obviously something is wrong with these parents (mentally, medically, economically, whatever) for them to neglect a child in that way. I know I should pity them and pray for them and remember that without them I would’t be getting the kiddos I’m going to get. Guess what, me being me means it doesn’t make me less stabby. My heart wants me to punch them in the gut SO hard. I want to flat kick their ass for ever hurting my child.
Wooooah. Okay, deep cleansing breath. Sorry about that, got a little out of control.
Since I am the better person, I will continue to pray for my children’s birthparents even though I don’t always want to. I will be grateful for the lives they brought into the world that will be entrusted to me (hopefully soon). I will try to remain calm in any interactions I have with them but just like a volatile custody exchange in a gas station parking lot, I cannot guarantee what will go down ; )