On Friday night, in a hotel on a loud busy street in downtown Baltimore, I cuddled my godson Adin in the hotel cafe, in the wee hours of the morning, giving his momma and papa a few hours of much needed rest. It was completely exhausting, but as I laid myself and the baby down for a 6am nap, I realized I am ready. I slept only 3 hours that night, and I didn't even care! Matt (the papa) told me that particular sleepless night of Adin's was a "worst case scenario," and I survived it. I loved it, in fact. I want that!
Today, there is another birthmom looking at our profile. I think this is officially the 5th viewing in 5 months that we've had. Not to mention the 4-5 situations we passed on.
I am to the point where I have stopped letting my hopes get up too high every time. This time, I expect to NOT be chosen. Yet, even with these guarded feelings, with each rejection I am more devastated than the last. In fact, last Thursday I melted down during lunch in the faculty room. That was embarrassing and humbling.
I'm ready. Herb's ready. The nursery is ready. My career is ready. Our families are ready.
The school year is coming to an end, and I am laughing at myself, thinking back to August when I said, "I don't mind starting this school year because I know I'm not going to finish it." Ooops. Eating my words.
And yet, the only thing I can really do is lean on my faith. The only prayer I can pray is, "Your will, not mine...but you know my desires."