Stomping My Feet and Pitching a Fit

I am sort of bummed out that stomping my feet, throwing myself to the ground and flailing about while wildly thrashing my arms and yelling is no longer an acceptable response to disappointment. Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled my boys are well past this stage, but on occassion, it would be nice if I could revert to such an instinctual response to the obstacles life often presents. So, this adoption thing - it is one crazy journey. Those of us Type A control freaks really get it handed to us on this one! My friends and family all know that while I completely give off the appearance of taking everything in stride, it is only because I have worked behind the scenes to completely orchestrate my life. You lay the proper ground work, the rest falls into place. Not so much in the adoption process. I felt moderately in control during the paper chase. While I did have to wait on doctor's appointments, vet appointments, social workers, the government, etc. there was always something to be done, so I could attempt to look at the big picture and move the coconuts so there was always something to do. But once the paperwork is overseas, it is sit back and wait and let God do the work. Now, I am a fan of delegating, but man, it can be hard.

Two weeks ago we discovered we had made it to the unofficial "top 10" on the waiting list. Now, I have us at 5. But the girl line appears to be moving slowly, as those after us are getting referrals for boys. In addition, we will now assuredly get caught in the court closures, which will add two months to our wait, post referral. (insert tantrum!) I am trying to sit back and take it in stride. Not feeling particularly successful at the moment and I need to vent, so here it is. My head gets that this is all about my daughter, not about me. But what about my heart, which longs so badly to hold my daughter - who is half way across the world and probably really hungry and scared. I don't like to be either, and I am an adult! What about her mom, who is either dying, or scared and hungry and knows she can't provide for her child. Wouldn't her heart feel better to know her little girl is loved by a family?

Ok, enough wallowing for one day. I just expected to get the call this month and was told by our agency that it likely wouldn't happen. I am feeling a bit put out, that is all. Poor pitiful me... :)