So there is a bit of a paperwork flurry just before you travel on trip #1. I have had to get copies of my taxes together. I have had to get a Power of attorney signed and notarized and fill an I-864W form (for my daughter’s Social Security, I think, still not sure on that). We are changing her birthname (In English it can be too easily mistaken for a term used for part of female reproductive organs) and her new name is what goes on all these forms (some of them there is a place for her current name as well)
If I am understanding everyone correctly we are going to be going to the embassy on this trip. All of this paperwork is hand delivered to them at that time.
So I was feeling pretty proud the other night. We have made it this far, and we are really almost set to travel. Just a few small things here and there. We might even be able to squeeze in Thanksgiving next week. Then this awful feeling came over me late at night while I was lying in bed. Am I excited about her? Yes, totally. Absolutely. But I am not even close to ready to accept that this is for real. Had my heart broken too many times before. It was very close to a sense of panic when I realized that A.) I wasn’t there yet when I thought that I probably should be and B.) I could probably get there if I didn’t have these (very likely irrational fears) that this adoption too could go south.
I keep telling myself that it won’t. This time it IS for reals. The only person coming for her is me. She has already be offered (unsuccessfully) for adoption in country. For reasons I will not disclose on this blog there is no birthfamily option for her. They tell me that I am the only chance that she has. But then I have these little nagging thoughts in my head (What if her foster family wants to adopt her?), and right now I am too cowardly to ask that question, but I will pluck up the courage and ask when we get over there. Then there is the too-horrible-to-think about scenarios. She is somewhat sickly. What if something should happen after I leave? I am already nauseated at the thought of being separated for 4-6 months.
I fell in love with my first foster daughter on day 1. Foster Daughter #2 had me by Day #3. But I do remember this feeling with her too. This scared panicked feeling. I had my heart broken before, I remember thinking at the time that I was just freaked out from previous bad experience. And that is what I am trying to tell myself this time. 1 bad experience and one really bad expereince of Having to send children you love away and never seeing them again is hard. And the excitement of a placement and the excitement of a referral are so similar that I feel like I am riding the same wave. It is just different this time. There is no kiddo physically here (like with a foster-adoption placement). Just a photo and mounds of paperwork. As soon as I see her I’ll be just as gone on her as I was on the other 2, only this time there will (ultimately) be no packing her up to move out and putting her in the car and kissing her goodbye. At least not until she is 18, anyway 😉 I hate, Hate, HATE that I don’t trust 100% that this will work out. I have no good reason not to trust. None, whatsoever. Just awful previous experinces coloring what should be a totally joyful present one.
There is only 1 upside to this feeling.
I think I understand where a child with attachment issues is coming from, at least to a small degree.