Why I'm Not Ready to Tell Everyone

Since we've played this adoption possibility pretty close to the vest with most of our extended family members and some of our friends, we're gonna have some 'splainin to do. My parents and sibs are in Minnesota right now, and within hours of hitting the Great Midwest, my mother informed a number of people that we're "thinking about adopting" way before I was ready to go public to those branches of the family.

It is okay, Mom, I didn't tell you not to tell anyone before you left. Right now, we're in the dead zone, where everything is in limbo, and we're anxious enough without having to report to people who've just heard about all this and have lots of questions. Also, because of limbo, we're emotionally drained. It is hard to stay excited when Nothing Ever Happens. I have to wake up every morning and ask myself if this is right, not just for the two of us, but for our possible children, too, and when there's no forward momentum, it is hard to answer that question. Yes, I want this. Yes, I want it yesterday. Yes, I feel good about it. But right now, there's nothing to hold onto, and I'm a girl who needs an image of the finish line. We might have kids in two weeks -- TWO WEEKS -- but the universe might just be pulling a mindfuck with that, and it could be months or years. Even if we'll have kids in two weeks, there's no way for me to know that now, there's nothing to look forward to yet, and the only physical manifestation of this entire process is a grey-hair-covering purple/red/copper/blonde dyejob, fingernails bitten to nubs, and the beginning of an ulcer. Sounds like a lesbian cocaine dance party to me.

I mean, I could have 1-3 children, ages 0-18, boys or girls, in two weeks, but right now I can't even get the bunkbeds out of storage because I have no idea what kids we'll have. If I can't even commit to major pieces of furniture that come at no cost to me, how am I supposed to plan anything else? Ya, we bought a kitchen table that seats more than 4. Big Freaking Deal, we needed it anyhow, and getting it at 1/3 the price of new wasn't something I was going to pass up.

Maybe I should just buy another purse. That would cheer me up bigtime.

Notes for FAQ's for email I'll have to send to relatives and friends soon:
1. Huh? You're adopting?
2. Why are you adopting from foster care?
3. I heard adopted kids set houses on fire, kick your dogs, and spill grape juice on the carpet on purpose. Why would you want someone else's problems?
5. Don't you want a baby?
6. Will you be able to love an adopted child the same?
I'll remember more asshattery later, I actually meant to work on a draft of the email here, since I've not yet installed Office on this computer, but I guess I don't much feel like it, so meh.