We've been waiting for a match for just under a year now. During that time, we've had 5 calls for possible adoption situations, and in none of those cases were we chosen. We just got another call yesterday, and for the first time, I'm feeling more dread for the likely disappointment than I am excitement for a possible match.
For those of you whose profiles were shown many times before you matched, did you feel this way? I HATE the wait, but it almost feels safer now than waiting for a birthparent decision, because so far, every decision has been a no for us. I think hubby is starting to feel the same way. He said he's not even letting himself get worked up this time, and just wants to forget we even submitted our profile.
It makes me sad, because I know eventually, the right call will come, and we'll be too afraid of rejection to let ourselves get excited for the baby that WAS meant for us. God, this process is hard.
Re: afraid of rejection
IDK if you are religious- I'm not totally- it's just a good quote I came by. I don't mean to offend if you are not.
"Sometimes you are delayed where you are because God knows there's a storm where you're headed."
I'm sorry the other times didn't work out. I am crossing my fingers for you and I hope that this is the right time for your family!!!
5 Angels
I totally know where you are. We've been waiting for just over 9 months. In the last 3 months alone, we've been shown over 10 times and we just got word that the BM who viewed our profile yesterday picked someone else. We were picked once a couple of weeks back, but the agency would only send us health info on BM and Baby once we were selected and we had to back out because the situation was WAY different than originally presented.
It is really hard and emotional to wait to hear the response when your profile is being shown. Part of me gets excited about the potential that we could finally be parents and wants to start planning how to get to the location, take time off of work, make all the arrangements. The other part of me tries to fight all those urges, knowing that we may not get picked. The little girl in my head keeps fighting between excitement and patience. My stomach gets knotted with waiting - almost like I had too much coffee on an empty stomach.
So I spend a lot of time praying - praying that the baby will go to the right parents, that he/she will be healthy and happy and strong. Then I spent a lot of time re-reading this poem - I hope it helps you too:
by Russell Kelfer
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .
And the Master so gently said, "Wait."
"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.
"My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign.
"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply."
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?"
He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.
"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.
"You'd never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
"The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will seeWhat it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you.
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."