it goes. The darkness returns.
I’m plagued with doubts that my kids will ever get here. I feel guilty even saying it, as if saying it might make it real. The last time I had these doubts we lost a son in Ethiopia. I remember these same feelings when our Guatemalan daughter disappeared. Will I lose them? Do I need to start facing the idea that the life we planned as a family of nine just isn’t going to be? This time I was stupid. Because Bubbly’s adoption succeeded I assumed this one would too. I painted rooms, bought clothes and broke my number one rule…I told people. I told everyone. I told them because I didn’t want the surprised reaction that we got to Bubbly’s adoption. I thought it would make our kids uncomfortable. So, I excitedly told everyone. Worst of all, we told our kids. We talked to our kids extensively the second we had our decree. Our kids have lost so many times. They still ask about their would be brother in Ethiopia. I tell them a lie that I hope will comfort them, because I don’t know the truth. I have no idea where their almost brother is. I hope he found another family. In reality, I doubt it.
Will I have to lie away two more children? Is someone punishing us? Did I do something to deserve this happening over and over again? Maybe so. But my kids didn’t. They deserve to be here now. Together.
who needs to face that life doesn’t always go as planned.