This week has been a rough one. I was distracted from our grief with a sprained ankle on Friday night. I spent the weekend in a pity party for one and my sweet husband was happy to indulge with me. A lot of candy was eaten on our couch and we made two trips to Dairy Queen.
As the hours between “not this time” and today continue to grow, we are trying to reset our hearts and our minds. Thoughts of the friends I could have been on maternity leave with or the money we would have saved up from the trip refund come to me less and less. I have stopped scrutinizing our home study and our profile book. The desire to run to the store and purchase baby supplies is most certainly gone. The door to the nursery is closed. The residual preparatory step we took, that is no longer so time sensitive, is our adoptive parent baby class scheduled next week. I know attending will make my heart ache but we need to be sure we can change a diaper at some point and now is as good a time as any.
I feel incredibly supported by those closest to us that knew of our potential new family member who now stand beside us and hold our sadness that this was not our turn. Our little mini, whomever he or she may be, is loved and wanted by a circle far greater than the two of us. That is now more clear than ever.
Who knows when the next call will come. It could be days, it could be years. For now, I find comfort in knowing that each day passed is a day closer to the moment our little one comes home with us.