I get them every year, but this year my holiday blues seem particularly bad. It's December 10, and we haven't put up a single Christmas decoration aside from the wreath Joey hung on the door one day while I was at work. To be honest, I'm not sure I even want to put up a tree. I'm certainly not weeping my way through store aisles. I'm just . . . blah. This is going to make me sound like a broken record, but I thought it would be over by now. Not the adoption journey (I'm not THAT impatient) - just our journey to become parents as a whole.
Thursday marked one month on the waiting list. Yesterday, we got a call from one of the profile site's representatives, who offered to provide us with any profile help should we need it. Cue freaking out: What's wrong with our profile? Our agency said it looked good - were they lying? Should I add more photos? Delete some photos? Add more information? Delete some information? What if no one picks us because we're Gator fans?
The reality is, our profile is probably fine. I haven't changed much about it since we created it at the beginning of November and that's a good thing. They say not to change it to often. But I have to force myself not to look at it so that I don't nitpick everything. I also try not to look at it because it has a counter. As in it counts how many people view it. Cue anxiety: What MORON thought that was a good idea? I'm enough of a mess my own. Imagine how this behavior amplifies when I see that our profile has been viewed 232 times. 232 TIMES!
Then, cue the anger: I'd like to bitch slap every person who ever told me to "just adopt," as if it's as easy as going to Target to pick up a kid. They have no clue what it feels like to obsess about everything from how good or not good I look in a photo to how I'll respond if my kid gets angry at me one day and screams, "YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM!" (I could honestly write an entire post of just "things I try not to freak out about.")
So while everyone else gets in the sing-song-y holiday spirit, there's me - on a roller coaster of emotions, contemplating all of these things over which the control freak in me has zero control. We're finally putting up the tree tonight. And the only thing I'll be wondering is when I get to hang a "Baby's First Christmas" ornament from mine.