I have fears. A lot of them.
I have fears that I'll be a bad mom. Or I won't be ready in time for my baby to come home. I have fears that someone is going to tell us we can't adopt or we would make horrible parents. I constantly have to fend off the "what ifs." It's why we are working on the nursery six months before we are submitting the paperwork. Because it's the only thing that's keeping me sane with this wait. And sometimes, when I think, "Six months is a long time," it hits me. No it's not. We need physicals done. We still have a lot of money to save. We have to buy fire extinguishers. We need to get living wills made. We need to get the crack in the garage floor sealed, and we need to gather letters of recommendation.
With this, I'm starting to realize that waiting to adopt a baby is not much different than pregnancy - always wondering when/if something will happen. Will the car break down this month, setting us back another month from saving money? Will the roof of our house cave in, then we'll have to move into an apartment, and SURELY no one will think we are fit parents then. And even more stupid/obscure/self conscious things, like:
I want to do an adoption raffle. Will people even want to donate items? Will people just think I'm being greedy by asking for money?
Will people come to my baby shower and take it seriously when I'm not pregnant, and when there is no guarantee when we get to take our baby home?
Will I get awkward stares at the store when I'm registering for baby items? Will people wonder if I'm crazy/mad/insane for registering with no obvious bump to show?
They are never ending. They circle my mind at night repeatedly until I'm so exhausted, my eyes force themselves to close. And they are not just "before" fears. They are after, too. What if my baby doesn't bond with me? Or with Joey? What if he or she grows up and resents me because I don't look like him/her - we don't have the same hair or skin color or eye color or facial features? What if people say stupid things? Will I get angry? Will I get upset? How will I react the first time my child is bullied on the playground?
What if, all along, infertility was just God's way of telling me that I'm not supposed to be a mom?
Our fears are different at the surface, but they come from the same place. Because we are all the same. Scarred deeply from where we've been. And scared shitless of where we are headed.