So, I have a visit this Saturday. I mean, I guess. Whatever.

I have a visit this Saturday. I would be excited, except that I'm terrified they are going to "break up with me," so to speak.

Before, when I've asked for a visit, one has been arranged within the next month. All of our previous visits have been at my parents' home, on a Sunday. We have dinner, and then we spend a couple hours sitting around talking. After dinner, Frog and his brother get bored, because my parents' youngest is 15 and their house is not really equipped for little kids anymore. Usually we can scrounge up some colored pencils and paper, and maybe 2-3 toys from my brothers' childhood, but that's about it. Not the most exciting evening for them, and yet the visits last 3+ hours.

So, back at the beginning of January, I decided to do something a little different. My mom suggested meeting up with them at the local Children's Museum on a Saturday morning, rather than a Sunday evening. Great! The boys will be entertained, and Frog and his brother (probably) won't spend the whole time being bored and waiting to go home.

I asked them about it. They thought it sounded like a great idea too! But, it would have to be either the last Saturday in February or the first Saturday in March. Which, okay. Longer than I am accustomed to having to wait, but by no means months and months away. I, obviously, chose this Saturday, since it was sooner and I am impatient. So I wrote back and told them which Saturday worked better for me, and they said okay, but, D (adoptive dad) might be travelling in the next couple months, so, we might have to cancel on short notice. Again, no problem, but slightly less concrete-ness than I am used to. "Oh, and also," they said, "we have to leave for home around 12:30." ...Alright, then, since the museum doesn't open till 10, that still gives us two and a half hours. Shorter than normal, but it's something, right? Maybe they will suggest breakfast beforehand, I thought. Nope. They said they would meet me at the museum at 10:30.

Now, maybe I just timed my visit request really poorly. That is okay, and bound to happen at some point. Logically, I can understand it. Plus, it's more than other birthmoms I know get, so I really shouldn't be complaining, at all.

However, the unlogical, emotional side of me is panicking. Combine the difference in visit length/scheduling issues with the fact that they have never once been the ones to ask for a visit plus the fact that I now get pictures once every three months (if I'm lucky) and you get a whole lot of worry on my part. Did I do something wrong the last time we got together? Is there some kind of jealousy issue concerning Frog's older brother (closed adoption - they send pictures once a year)? I'm racking my brain trying to come up with every possible explanation. Their emails these past two months have been warm and friendly, I don't get the feeling I've offended them. Why can't they just tell me what the problem is??

What it really seems to be coming down to, though, is just a lack of interest on their part. I don't think that they see the value of having an open relationship with me. And, frankly, thanks to that, I'm not sure I do. There is no point in trying to force a relationship they aren't particularly interested in. If and when Frog has questions, I highly doubt they are going to tell him to ask me himself, no matter how often I force myself into their lives.

There is the chance I am way off base here. I have all of four (recent) emails off which I am basing the majority of my perceived slights, so the margin for potential error is pretty high. Besides, I'm getting my visit, with relatively little trouble or worry. What do I have to complain about?

I mean, aside from the fact that they could take me or leave me, or that fact that they could break off contact at any point, with or without logical reason, and that I'm afraid they might just do that.

I Forget

Every so often I'll think of something I would like to write out (for myself), and then I plan my words in my head, and then I fall asleep, or something, and when I wake up, I've forgotten it. Ergo, not a whole lot of healing going on around here. (What? Healing? I'm a year and a half out! I should be healed! Snerk.) Nope, definitely don't feel "healed" yet. A big part of that is that I don't talk about it. Period.

A few months ago was the last time I tried, and instead of words coming out, I cried so hard I couldn't breathe for, like, two hours. So, I quit. I don't talk about my experience anymore. I listen, and I think, and (rarely, obviously) I write about it. I'll respond, when someone asks me something, and I visit with Frog and his family occasionally (this Saturday being one of those Looming Visits). But that's about it. My husband (and birthfather of my baby, for those of you who didn't catch that a couple posts ago) has completely disassociated from it, and therefore, if we are going to talk about it (we don't) it's up to me to bring it up. Conversations we have about it result in nothing of substance - there is no way I can make him "feel" at this point, and trying is fruitless and just ends up hurting worse. In fact, he won't be attending this visit with me. He doesn't have any interest in going, and I'd rather bring someone who actively wants to come, like my mom.

So, yeah. No talking about it. I did speak at a church-sanctioned meeting about the "Blessings of Adoption in My Life" back in November, but that was it.

Part of the problem is that I'm no longer interested in talking about it, and I can't remember it well enough to relive it and force interest (if that makes any sense).

I'm not sure what the point of my writing this was. I'm not in a place (mentally) where I'm totally comfortable with the choice I made, and I'm not sure how to get myself comfortable with it. Maybe I am content, and I just can't tell. As in, this is is good as it gets, and I shouldn't hold my breath for the puppies and rainbows of open adoption? I'm not sure.