Intangible
When I started this blog, I told myself that I would post regularly, that this space would help me find my writing voice again. And it has certainly done that, giving me a place to work through some of the complicated emotions that I’ve been experiencing since I began this adoption journey. Many women, after all, keep pregnancy blogs, documenting each new bodily sensation, the growing, tangible evidence that, in a specified amount of time, there will be a baby.
While waiting to adopt, though, there is nothing tangible: no growing belly, no swelling ankles, no blame-it-on-the-hormones bouts of moodiness. No timeline. In a normal pregnancy, there are nine months to plan and prepare, a date in the future that clearly delineates the before and after of baby’s arrival. In a normal adoption wait, there is… nothing. There is daily life as usual, and that life could last nine months, … Continue reading
There I stood smiling at my own reflection in the mirror. I was feeling in a good place, a positive space. Is it because I’m in school and enjoying every moment of it? Possibly. Or is it because I’ve surrounded myself with extracurricular activities that fuel my soul? That could be it… Or maybe it’s because my 15-year-old stepson and I have not killed one another yet, despite living under the same roof!
I have now done everything I can to avoid thinking about the possibility that I could be pregnant this time. It’s amazing how the mind works, the barriers, coping mechanisms, whatever you want to call them, how your mind can shut off and block out something that is exciting and hopeful that could potentially be devastating. I wondered why I am thinking about my career 4x as much as I usually do and for no reason aside from the fact that it is safer to think about than thinking about not being pregnant. It’s so weird, I think about if my little egg met the best sperm ever and if it’s happening, if cells are multiplying like crazy down there inside me. It makes me happy to think about….for like 12 seconds and then my mind wanders right on over to my viability in my profession, if I should welcome … 
I recently read a blog post by someone who has kids and was lamenting her pre-kid single life freedoms. The post was a letter to her young self about how she should enjoy being free, staying out late with friends, traveling and not worry about meeting someone to share her life with—or about whether she has kids; that her life would be just great without them. I love how people who are married with kids always joke about what a pain it is to be married, and tell single people how lucky we are to not have to “deal with” a partner and how hard it is to be tied down to kids.