Letters to Lillian

Letters to Lillian
First it was two,
then we had you.
Now we have everything.

Letters to Lilly,
our daughter through adoption.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

The Broken Road

Today my coworker is listening to her music super loud, as she does almost every day. Most days this just annoys me, because she tends to sing along in a very off pitch and out of tune way all day long (somedays it feels like that five o'clock buzzer is taunting me, its so far from my reach. After her third rendition of the same song about sunshine I feel like pulling all my hairs out one by one with a pair of rusty pliers). Today, however....it just made me cry. I know, I'm ridiculous. One day you'll learn that (I hope).
  I set out on a narrow way, many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

I think about the years I spent, just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost, and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there, you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

But now I'm just rolling home into my lover's arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

Yes, I know its about a romantic love. But its pretty darn descriptive for our journey too. Cue me having to stop myself from bawling like a baby at my desk. Its times like this when its hard to be an adult, when part of you wants to just crawl under the covers and forget the world exists, or build a fort with a password and not let anyone in. But those days for me are long gone...

but they are far and wide for you, little one.

Last night RB and I set out on one of our famous (well, famous in our house anyway) marathon errand nights. We went to six (yes, you read that number right. SIX!) stores to get everything done that we needed to get done. The goal was two-fold, to get my sinus infection prescription and to get a mircowave (I may or may not have made our microwave explode by making soap in it. Our new plan: get a cheap microwave solely for soap making for the future...at least our broken microwave was super clean!) We finally did get our microwave, but you were in our minds every step we took. We stopped in at a bookstore and picked up two books about adoption, and the cashier (a kid who looked about seventeen and he got lost on his way to the set of an MTV reality show with bright blond locks and a pearly white smile) wished us luck three times after seeing the books we were buying. RB, in usual adorable RB style, didn't realize right away what he was wishing us luck for. He gave me a look as if to say, "Do we really need luck when buying two books?" but once he realized the kids intent, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. It was the first time a stranger has wished us luck. These little tiny things, they make it all seem so much more real.

We went to dinner afterwards (word to the wise, never, ever order chinese food from a Japanese restaurant. It tasted like the cow palace smells at the state fair. Not pleasant.) and we talked. RB tried to contact a former coworker whose wife is a family attorney to get her insight and direction, and lets just say it didn't go well. She answered the phone and was so haughty about RB trying to even contact her husband, so we don't think thats a route that is going to work. But this little set back crushed RB. He is already so protective. But we talked about it, and one of the reasons we work so harmoniously is because we view the world completely differently. I know that sounds contradictory, but one day you'll learn little one that sometimes the people who we don't see eye to eye with are the people we learn the most from. RB gets very intimidated and hung up on details, whereas I get overwhelmed by the big picture. RB can see the big picture clearly without problem, and I work better taking baby steps. We balance each other out in this way.

Speaking of the details, today I read an article that said for adoptive moms to breastfeed, they may need to start hormone therapy when the birth mother is at 20 weeks. Which is next week. This threw me for a complete loop - we won't know more until the first weekend of February, and even then we won't know everything. I can't imagine creating breastmilk for an infant I don't bring home, it would be like pouring a pound of salt into a papercut. I'm still navigating what I feel like I can and can't handle at this point. I am trying so very hard to take this all one step at a time, not get my hopes up, not get crushed, not get too invested while being invested enough...

It's like walking on a tightrope.

One little tip off-balance, and I'm plummeting.

There is only one upside to this analogy, little one. If I do plummet, I have an amazing safety net. We have such a great net woven tightly with family and friends, that if we do plummet, they will cushion our fall. They will help us get up, and try again. We won't get up unscathed, there will be bruises and scars- but they will be something we will learn and grow from, and scars that give us character and a story to tell. I feel like when I'm the one walking on the rope, RB is there to be the pole that keeps me balanced. And when he's walking on the rope, I'm the pole.

Even though I know we will be okay if we fall, I want to make it to the other side, because I know there you'll be waiting.

 

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