I have to admit it. The arrival of my new niece has given me baby fever. Everywhere I look, my eyes seem to focus on adorable, teeny-tiny baby outfits. I notice every single infant in a stroller that passes me by. I get those little stirrings in my stomach when I see how big Dylan has gotten. My baby has turned into a little man, and now my arms are aching to cradle another baby.
You might say, well, why not another child? Ah, well, that's where it gets complicated.
Trying to plan when to add a child to the family through adoption is like throwing ashes to the wind. You have no control over where they will land. It's the same with adoption. You have absolutely no control over the process.
At first, you think you have it all under control. You get your home study done and fill out the paperwork in a timely matter. You get agency approval and are put either on a waiting list or a birthparent pool, depending on where you are adopting from. You feel hopeful and confident that you will soon receive good news. And then the wait begins. And then it goes on and on and on. And then you lose sight of the light at the end of the tunnel.
Until, of course, you finally get to hold that baby in your arms, and you realize that every second of the wait was worth it because it led you to this most perfect little being. It is magical.
But seriously, the waiting part really sucks sometimes.
If you want to add a sibling to the family, it gets even more complicated. There is NO control over spacing out children's ages. Initially, I really wanted Dylan to have a sibling before he reached the age of three. It took a little while to do our research, pick an agency, and update our home study, so by the time we got everything settled it was a little bit past Dylan's third birthday. Well, the process couldn't possibly take more than a year, so he should definitely have a sibling before his fourth birthday, right? RIIIIIIGHT. Here we are, only a month before Dylan turns four, and no baby in sight.
I try to remain level-headed about the whole process and I think I do a pretty good job of it most of the time. However, every so often I do have the occasional pity party for myself. Every now and then, I get a bit sad that Dylan's old nursery is still empty and find myself wondering if there ever will be another baby sleeping on that crib.
Then my big, bustling boy comes over to me, wraps his hands around my neck and gives me a sloppy, wet kiss on the cheek. And I realize that, even if we never get another child, I am already the luckiest mother in the world.
Then Dylan starts running around the house, screaming in happiness and throwing his toys every which way, leaving behind a path of destruction. Or else he starts bothering the dog and chasing the poor thing about the house or some other such mischief. Then I think about Bill traveling for work a lot of the time and how I have to parent alone a lot and I think to myself, I have no idea how I could handle two of these.
It is moments like those that make my baby fever go right out the window. Maybe it WOULD be better for Dylan to be in Kindergarten before we got a second child...