You’d think a place like this would feel more… Warm. Welcoming. Something. That’s what I thought when we walked into the office three years ago. I don’t know if I expected pillows and soothing music, but I thought the furniture should at least match. The… I just realized that I don’t know what her title was. What do you call people who’s mission is to make you sure you’re ok with pushing out a baby and handing it over to new parents? I don’t think she had a job title. I knew one thing for sure while sitting in that conference room; their supposed “safe place”. This is not what I was expecting when I moved home.
Living. Moving. Breathing.
I knew that we were both in bad places and being together was the best decision. I knew that there was another kid coming. A little person. One that we could not afford. I knew that she was overwhelmed. She felt backed into a corner and adoption was the only way out. The promises of help weren’t falling on deaf ears, they were coming from mutes. So there we were. Sitting in that cold office on that hot, hot day. Listening to a stranger explain procedures for her first hello and final goodbye. And then we left. There was supposed to be a follow up call. My sister never answered.
God knew what He was doing when He gave…
I started writing this after picking my nephews up from school and daycare. I fully expect to see my bedroom door open and a high-top of sandy curls pop in at least five times before bedtime. And tomorrow morning there may be a fit because I’m driving to daycare instead of Mommy. Or, like today, because I refuse to put miniature Nikes on the wrong feet. Yes, this little person works my nerves. Yes, two’s are TERRIBLE. But we didn’t have to go back to that office. Never have to sit in those cold rooms with mismatched furniture. She didn’t have to learn how to say goodbye.