Fears.

Although most of what you see written here is positive, there are a few things about adopting that scare me. Coffee and I talk about them, of course, but I haven’t really written much about it here and it seems like as good a time as any to change that.

One of the things we had to confirm, a long time ago, is that we will not be heartbroken if we are, for some reason, not permitted to adopt. Even as we started the process, making inquiries and asking questions, we knew that there was always the possibility that things wouldn’t go through the way we wanted. We will be disappointed, of course, but we’ll be okay after a while.

Still, I worry. I want to adopt. I want this child in our lives.

We’ve been cleared thus far, but prior to an actual placement there are still reviews to be undertaken. Our medical information will be compiled and examined and our references will be called and all the groundwork that we carefully laid will be rifled through by the hands of a social worker or two.

There are things in our past and our genetics that could very well see us rejected in the end.

I worry, of course, that my family history of early death will be a concern for the worker – despite my own regular health clearances and the assurances of my cardiologist that I am, indeed, healthy. My adoption-related physical is on Thursday of next week and I am worried, in my usual way, that something will come up – some unexpected health issue.

I worry that the worker will note our lack of close family ties – no immediate relatives on my side at all (no parents or siblings) and no close relatives on Coffee’s side (his sister is in Texas, his parents are almost as far away) – and decide that we do not have enough support in our lives to handle a child.

Friends count for a lot, of course, and I have several friends that I’d consider as close as family (or even closer). But I don’t know if the worker will feel the same way. As much as I know which friends I can count on – for a sympathetic ear, for an emergency babysitting hour, for the gift of empathy and laughter – some people still see friendships as “less than” blood relations.

And while everyone I know has reminded me that social workers approve of people who have been “through stuff” as it helps them to empathize and understand a child whose life has not been perfect, I worry that my past depression and anxiety could be held against me. Even though I’ve sought help, solved problems, learned coping techniques and fully eradicated my anxiety.. maybe they won’t see it that way. Certainly, there are people who have known me a lot longer who (wrongly, in my opinion) have concerns about that very issue.

I was pleased, on Wednesday, when my therapist and I terminated our relationship and she commented that she felt Coffee and I would be “amazing” parents. Truly pleased.

Coffee, of course, has his own history. It’s not my place to write about it here, but there are things in his past that are over and done with and resolved and okay, but which we aren’t sure an adoption worker will understand to the same degree.

And then, and THEN, let’s suppose we ARE cleared for adoption. Oh no, my fears don’t end when we’re accepted!

The workers will begin to talk about matches and placements and children who are suitable for our family. We’ll be called in to see photos and read case histories and meet with workers and foster parents and any number of other professionals.

What if we bring home this child and Coffee returns to work and.. I can’t handle things on my own? What if I’m overwhelmed and stressed out and afraid? What if this child has issues that are so strong that I can’t keep her safe? What if she HATES US? What if she hates ME? What if this child destroys our marriage or causes us to find the worst in ourselves?

I’ve been reading and researching and talking to people about various (likely) problems with adopted and foster kids. I’ve been investigating as many of the local support groups as possible so I won’t find myself struggling to find them if the need arises. I’ve been reading every blog I can find that deals with adopting and fostering – particularly those pertaining to older kids – and bookmarking them all over the place. I’ve been slowly building our library of parenting books.

And.. I worry.

The majority of the time, if I’m completely honest, I dwell on the positives. There’s no sense worrying about the negatives until I know what negatives we’ll be facing – and we will know, soon enough.

The positives are that we’ll have a child in our home – a chance to truly experience the world through the eyes of a small person. We’ll get to play and visit the Children’s Museum and snuggle and teach someone the things we consider important. We’ll spread our values and beliefs and help her to overcome her past to grow and become a stronger person. We’ll grow as people, as a family, as a couple.

And don’t even get me started on the “visiting the toy store and buying things” aspect. Whoah, I am SO ready for THAT!

There will be bedtime stories and laughter and making cookies and playdough and.. all of those good things.

I’d like to fast-forward a few weeks. Past the medical and the training and into the part where things are decided – to the point where we know we are not adopting and can sign up for classes and convert the “kid’s room” into something else. Or, better yet, to the point where we are buying the furniture for our kid(s) and reading specific information that’s relevant to their history and future. Where we know what we’ll be facing and dealing with and can start to plan for it.

I suppose, to some extent, this is normal fear-stuff for parents. Biological parents worry first about conceiving and gestating and delivering a healthy baby. Then they worry about handling endless feedings and diaper changes and minimal sleep and how they’ll cope with the changes in their lives.

There are no guarantees in life, are there? Nothing to cling to.