It happened again: the adoption agency invited us to be part of another home study class. In case you haven't been keeping track of these things, this is the second time an invitation has been extended to us to attend said class.
And, yet again, I'm left in a place where it feels like I need to decide how I feel--rather than how I'm supposed to feel. It really is a difficult dance between what I want and what I'm supposed to be. Is every woman really born to be a mother? Are some meant to be something else, something less nurturing and more...untethered? Why else was I born this way---unable to have children--if it wasn't part of some grand design?
Life is often about making a lot of long term plans centered around logic. You plan for retirement and other incredibly boring things, knowing that someday you will be thankful for your foresight and astute planning.
I've stopped trying to plan everything about my life. No preparations. No timing. In fact, those things mean nothing to me anymore. Except retirement--I've been planning for that since age 22. But when it comes to kids, things feel much less structured.
It's a luxury, I suppose, to have a lack of questions rummaging around my brain. Most women feel like motherhood is something to be planned for (unless, of course, you ask my mother who got pregnant with my little brother at age 40) and spend a lot of their lives doing so.
People tell us that our bodies were made to have children, a thought I hesitate to endorse. But what I feel is based upon walking around in a body was made for not having children.
When it comes to adoption and motherhood, I'm still in a place where I don't feel compelled in a specific direction. From where I stand, life is still pretty amazing--even without children.
But when our names came up on that list again, I found my mind drifting to a place that feels an awful lot like guilt.
Guilt for all the people who want something for us we don't necessarily want ourselves.
Guilt for the dreams and plans that were made, then crushed, and finally reborn into something unconventionally beautiful, albeit slightly damaged.
I'm not unhappy. I don't yearn for anything. I have everything I want.
But knowing that my name is on a list that will continue to call to me time and time again sometimes makes me feel like I'm obligated to say something other than thanks but no thanks.
My heart tells me the time is still not right--and that I will know when it is.