Back in June, after several weeks of turmoil over mixed feelings, Travis and I decided to keep trying to adopt a second baby. I still had serious reservations. I wasn’t convinced it was the right decision, but I couldn’t bring myself to withdraw from the adoption process.
Now I constantly think about having a second child. Travis too. When I call him in the middle of the day, he half-jokingly asks if I’m calling to deliver adoption news. We both want that moment to arrive so badly.
Miles does a pretty good job of filling every inch of this rambling old house, but lately it’s just a bit too empty. I’m aware of an absence. When I’m in the kitchen cooking, I imagine Miles out in his playroom chattering away to a little brother and sister. When I return from dropping him off at school, I feel myself hoisting a tiny baby in her car seat back inside.
Even when I remember the darkest times with a young baby—crying into my pillow in the middle of the night because sleep deprivation prevented me from falling back asleep—I still want a second kid.
We’ve had no news. Not a single call or email. Impatient, we scan foster-to-adopt websites and research other private adoption agencies. So far, we’re sticking with our original agency.
I’ve refrained from needlessly “checking in” with our social worker. Last week, I happened to glance at the clock at 11:11, so I made a rather demanding wish that the agency call that very day with good news. I didn’t get the call but instead received a mass email from our social worker, publicizing an event to be held on 11/11/2011.
Coincidences, wishes, and imagination are what I have to work with. I tell myself to make the most of my quiet time these fall mornings, to remember the present. And yet be ready for a baby who could come into our lives any day now.