Thursday, July 14, 2011

Becoming resigned

I realized this morning that I am much, much more anxious than normal.  It's easy for me to point at some of the obvious things- my Master's program, the summer being halfway over, teacher prep time creeping closer and closer, etc....

I ended up sending an email to some friends this morning, basically exploding in their laps (okay, more like their laptop screens... but you get the idea).  Ends up that the things that are filling my mind, heart, soul, aren't those obvious things.  Seems like it's more about my son.  Trying to find his Ethiopian roots. Making connections with his Ethiopian family.  Sending in his annual report.  Trying to figure out this readoption stuff, along with his birthday stuff.  Wondering if it's true that we will never adopt from Ethiopia again.

And then there's the other stuff that consumes me.  Stuff I read on blogs about the hardships others are encountering.  The stories others are hearing and seeing.  The news that could shatter you if you let it.

A real gem of a woman told me, in response to my cry for help, that I need to accept the fact that I can't carry every burden for my son.  That I am not superhuman.  That I need to let go of some things.

It's hard.  So hard.  My heart is torn for him.  Torn.  I worry.  I wonder.  I worry.

I am grieving the loss of a dream for adopting another child from Ethiopia.  There are so many questions there, so much corruption.  Who knows how long the programs will continue to work there?  How many children need homes and families and medicine and food?  How many will be lost?  I know, I know- adoption is not about me.  And I totally get that.  I do.  It's just....

I think about all those babies.  All those toddlers.  All those kindergartners, first graders, high schoolers.  Mothers.  Fathers.  Grandparents.  Aunts.  Uncles.  Cousins.  Brothers.  Sisters.  I think about them and I ache.

Leone, I love you with every inch of my being.  Every inch.  I want the world for you.  You have been through enough, and you will go through even more.  I can try, oh how I can try- but....

Oh, my son!  Oh, the ache!