A One Gallon Bag

Three and a half weeks -- that's how far into this wait we are. If you'd like to know the truth, it seems like a hell of a lot longer than that. During infertility purgatory there is this time called the dreaded "two week wait." All infertiles know this phrase and shudder at the thought. It refers to the window of time that occurs after an embryo transfer until a pregnancy test. Add to that mental stress the physical pain of at least one intramuscular shot of a liquid the consistency of cold syrup into your butt each night, and this wait turned into a party beyond description. I really hated that time. I don't hate this time -- but it certainly has its moments.

I broke down last week. I finally emailed my adoption agency and asked if I should expect any form of communication between now and the travel call. Evidently, I can track through the 49 steps before we can travel OR I can sit back and trust the system is working. With my newfound zen approach on life, I (we) have decided to let the system work (please work, please god...please work.) We were given permission to put together a one gallon ziploc bag worth of objects for our baby boy. Dustin sent this out this morning. Do you know how small a one gallon bag is? I couldn't fit myself into it -- in case you were wondering. Dustin and I had to go through the house and decide what was important enough to send to Jaden, but not so valuable that we would be heartbroken if it were lost (there is no guarantee this package will actually arrive in Korea before we do.) After contemplating this for a few days, here is what we came up with:

• A photo album -- a really ugly one made by this Whoozit company -- but I guess babies like the crinkly paper. We put five pictures in there of Dustin and I. We even put the one in where Dustin said, "that makes me look fat." If you know Dustin, you know why this picture still made the cut. However, the one where I looked half-baked? That one did NOT make it in.
• A disposable camera. We hope that the foster mother who is loving and caring for Jaden is taking pictures of him too. But, that is not a requirement. We are sending a camera in hopes for 24 shots of his 6th and 7th months of life.
• A blanket. We bought it, I washed it, we slept with it to put our smells on it. Now, it is en route to Korea.

This may not seem like much, but the love that is accompanying these items is keeping me up at night. I'm sure the package does more for us than it does for him at this point. At least it is something. Now, I had better get back to not calling the US immigration offices.

Week #1 -- Done and done

We have made it through our first week of waiting for the travel call. In case you were wondering...so far, so good. I have had no random episodes of insanity (or any more than usual), and my husband is still in good spirits. But it isn't for a lack of trying to go around the bend. Yesterday we set up our registries (enter in dramatic dum, dum, dum music here.) This is needed as much for people who are kind enough to want to purchase something for our little one, as for us to realize what equipment is needed to raise a child. We live in "that house" right now. The one kids hate because there are zero toys. The one that has exposed outlets. The one with no thermometer for fevers. Right now, if we had to travel to Korea tomorrow, our baby would be hooked up with a rockin' laptop but no diapers.

First stop: Local discount store. This was not so bad. Remember, aside from never being parents before, we are looking down the barrel of parenting a nearly mobile, solid-food eating child. We also can only guess how much our baby will weigh, what kind of bottle he uses, if he uses a pacifier, or if he likes music when he sleeps. So, what do we need? Clothes. Definitely our baby should be clothed in winter. I knew Dustin was enjoying himself when he starting independently putting onesies on the list. I think he may have even dropped an "isn't this cute?" in there somewhere, although he'd die before admitting it. Excellent.

Next stop: the baby superstore. I knew we were doomed when we had to sit down for an orientation. The very nice lady made an analogy between said superstore and family, "and since you ask your family for advice, we should be your go-to people for your baby." Um, not so much, although I appreciate the offer. Really. They equipped us with a list of "what to register for", did some quick math based on the number of friends we supposedly have, and told us to be sure to register for ~150 items. My eyes bulged. We then wandered aimlessly, each looking for an out wherever we could find it: bathrooms, water, staring at blinking lights. As we left (thank goodness for lunch!), the lady to whom I turned over the magic scanning gun actually laughed at our total. Thirty items. And that was with us throwing caution to the wind.

So week one comes to a close, and I'm pretty sure I should start thinking about that diaper thing more seriously.

10 - 9 - 8 - 7...

The countdown officially starts today. From today, we have a 10-14 week wait to travel to Korea. Dustin and I have spent the last two weeks documenting our lives. This paperwork will allow for the immigration and adoption process to take place. Today, our lives got sent over to Korea. Now, we wait. Again. But, this time is different.

During this wait we get to stare at the picture of our little boy every day, multiple times a day. A friend of mine said today that she's looked at him so much that she "feels like she already knows him." It's kind of true. Each day I am wrapping my head a little more around the impossible concept that this is our child to raise, love, and all other things "parenty."

During this wait I get to start enjoying the anticipation of collecting baby things. My mom (aka Martha Stewart) has been with me the last few days sewing masterpiece baby quilts. My dearest friends are planning showers and knitting booties. I get to go and pick up our rocking chair tomorrow. My cousin has sent me the pros/cons list of every cloth diaper on the market. My neighbor has dropped off a copy of his son's favorite nighttime story. My sister is sending her Jump-a-Roo our way. This is fun.

During this wait I can start to imagine what an eight-month-old looks like when I hold my sister's baby. I get to talk with my dad (Human Growth Development expert) about eye contact and object permanence. I get to start washing our clothes with perfume free detergent.

Will this euphoria last? I seriously doubt it. I'm pretty sure the crazy train will come and pick me up soon enough. But, right now, I'm happy -- plain and simple.