>Snared: What they don’t tell you about the wait, part 3

>So. There are other things they don’t mention about the wait.
They kind of do. Sometimes it’s alluded to by the social workers or folks in process.
Now and then someone will flat out say it.
But the wait: it’s filled with traps.

Sometimes you get snared…or thwacked upside the head, unsuspecting.

Especially if your defenses are down or compromised with a virus or migraine or something of that ilk.
Then watch out.
Because you might find yourself on the sofa, whipped, and kind of leaking tears….blue and bleak over the blank calendar in front of you and no word or whisper on the horizon of progress.
And your normal cautiously hopeful stance, gone. Evaporated. Nowhere to be found.
And then you find yourself sort of in despair.
Because you know you need to bring that child home – the one all over the fridge and in the photos on your bathroom mirror.

You’ve been trying to imprint them on your heart.
And it’s worked.

And now you ache to have them home, even as your head knows how much work and the exhausting adjustments it will bring to everyone.

But that child, in the pictures..that’s your kid.

And they are half a world away.
And you have no information on them.
And you have no update on her.
And you have no breathe of time-frame whispered to you.

And that’s the trap.
It snares you and pulls you under and you cry in frustration and worry from the depths of your mom heart, you can’t help it.
You’ve been whacked.

It will pass.
Possibly as soon as the little virus does.
You’ll get back your normal marathon endurance mindset.
You’ll set aside the sharp imaginative worry.
You’ll hunker down to cautiously hopefully wait for good news, every day.

But you have to know that now and then, you’re gonna find yourself flat, sniffly and snared.
And they don’t tell you that much, because it is literally one of the ugly sides of the process.
But it’s real.

And it would be really nice to never mention it.
It would be like spun candy to only write about the hope and joy and giddy highs of this process, because they are SO high and so good.
But I think it’s maybe important to note that everybody goes through the traps too.
At least for me it’s important to note this.
Some days, you get snared.
You fall.
I fall.
It might be just me.
I am a child in so many ways, not trusting enough, complaining and whining, controlling too much, having a snuffly tantrum over not having the progress or information I had hoped for.
But I don’t only want this blog to be about the glittery things or only the best sides of me. I want it to be real and true, a diary of sorts of our/my real life.

So there it is, here it is: today.
These days pass, they do.
But to be honest, this process: it’s a rollercoaster, it’s not easy, it’s not for sissies or the faint of heart.

I guess nothing life changing ever is.