I've been feeling a little sorry for myself this week. Sad and lonely. Which is kinda weird, given that I have such great friends, a wonderful and healthy husband and child, a well paid and flexible work situation, a nice home, and no serious financial pressures.
Nonetheless, even the privileged have the capacity to bemoan their situations, and feel alone in the world.
This is what echoed in my mind this week: I have no parents. I have no baby; no three year old, or two year old, or one year old. A friend sent me a note when my Dad died, and commented to me how comforting it was to have her newborn (her second child) when her mother had died. It was her way of saying "use the time with your son as solace," but of course it reminded me that I don't have that second baby that I thought I would have, that could comfort me now.
I also have no kitchen, it's been ripped out for two months now. And as all kitchen remodels seem to go, things have been delayed. The floors had to redone. Twice. That put us behind about ten days. And when the cabinets were installed this week it was discovered that two of the cabinets were mismeasured. And so the schedule pushes another week. Having no kitchen and workers in your home all the time is disorienting and discombobulating.
Three years ago we refinanced and took some cash specifically to remodel our ancient kitchen. We are finally doing it, and seeing the money flow out has made me a little ill. And I keep thinking about how I rather would be adopting than getting a new kitchen.
Don't get me wrong, I will love the new kitchen, and frankly it's been a nice thing to think about in the midst of all this sadness. Choosing paint colors is much more invigorating than choosing memorial locations for your parents.
I'm just sad. There has been so much loss in the last three and a half years. Four+ miscarriages, the deaths of my mother, my father, my husband's mother, my husband's uncle, my bio-father, and a good friend who died suddenly a year ago. One of my best friend's father died in a horrible accident less than 24 hours before my Dad passed away. I've been to four funerals and not one goddamned wedding this year.
And now that all the hubbub has died down, and all the mourners have gone home, my husband and I trying to find a new normal. In the midst of all the stress of the last few years, my husband left a very profitable partnership because the other partners were so highly dysfunctional that my husband was literally losing his mind. Note to self: Never go into a business with a manic and highly addictive personality. So now, after taking so much time off to be with his mom, he is starting all over again. Finding new ways to make a living. My husband is excellent at what he does and highly respected by his peers, but transition is always stressful. Between losing his mom, tending to his Dad, and worrying about Making Money, he doesn't have a lot of energy to worry about my issues right now.
I think the losses makes me want to adopt more than ever. An interesting thing has happened in the last several months. While I still feel pangs of jealousy over pregnant women, and notice them wherever I go, the idea of being pregnant myself has started to become less appealing. All the things that I would have to worry about with my history and age seem just too overwhelming. Spending anywhere from 2 to 9 months in constant anxiety doesn't sound so great. Don't get me wrong, every time I hear of a successful pregnancy in a 40 to 44 year old, the old desire creeps in to try - just one more time. But I seem to have crested the peak of that desire.
Adoption, on the other hand becomes ever more appealing. The fact that a baby will already exist in the world that needs a home has always seemed so great to me. Skipping the newborn phase, while it can have some serious negatives, is appealing on many levels. Having the whole family go through the adoption process seems like a great lesson and opportunity for all of us. For me it could be a chance to give something that I was not given as an adoptee; a (relatively) sane mother. For my son it could be a lesson in alternative family building, for my husband a chance to get a glimpse of what my life has been like. And of course the biggest appeal of all, experiencing another childhood.
But until my husband gets back into a work rhythym, which could take anywhere from two six months, we cannot even consider adoption. And even then, will he ever really be ready to commit to such a huge responsiblity?
So I wait, wondering if my desire will go away with time. And then I wonder if the desire will stay and time will just go away and it will get to the point where we just seem Too Old and it is all Too Hard, and I'll regret that we didn't try to adopt earlier. You just never know, do you?