Attachment is a huge word in adoption. We all have Disney-fied visions of adoption as a happy story, but a whole lot of crap went on in that young life prior to the adoption. Adults are suppose to care for little ones and someone did not take care of them. It is likely that many people did not. People came and people went in their little lives. That's hard on a little heart just like my heart is pretty battered from all of my past hopes. The first time I was really talking about adoption with a friend of mine who works for Children's Aid in another region, she said attachment was everything. If it was there, families could be mended, without it everything was so much harder. Because I've always wanted to be a mom, and I have a great mom, I didn't understand how precious attachment is. Over time, reading other peoples journeys, I'm starting to get it.
Yesterday, part of my problem is that I didn't know what to expect. With a lot of the past tests, I've just had a gut feeling, a knowing that something was going on. I felt attached already, just to the hope of what felt true. After all we've been through, I think I've become scared of making that attachment. I saw a few positive signs in my body and blamed it on pills. I didn't listen to my own body because I didn't want to hear nothing, so I couldn't even take the risk of hearing something good.
It's such a hard line to walk right now. I'm thrilled that I passed yesterday. It is wonderful that it's high enough it won't be another chemical pregnancy. I'm scared that it means if things don't go well it's that much further along and will hurt that much more. The farther we get from the news of yesterday the more I want the next hurdle to appear so I can feel safe again with my fledgling hope.
I have not been sewing this week. Seeing all the mistakes I made on that nightgown hit home that I really need to stick to basics rather than thinking sewing. I'll get in there again, I could use some Renfrew t's with something other than the cowl. But I have actually been enjoying trying crochet in short spurts. It looks awful, just awful. My tension is way too tight most of the time - to the point where it's hard to get the hook in. I think I dropped a few rows somewhere but managed to add them back in (I'm not sure how I did either). And the thing is, I don't care. It should look bad, it's my first try. And unlike my trapezoid scarf that took forever when I was 11 and tried knitting, I'm not frustrated that it took so long to get to a crappy spot. The acrylic wool I'm using is neon yellow and given to me, I wouldn't make anything good with it anyhow. It will be an effective dish cloth even if it is a weird shape. My MIL is a great knitter but I find this funny, she says she doesn't know how to crochet except for one afghan pattern. Mr. Lina's aunt apparently taught her that pattern so she knows how to that and nothing else. I'm thinking that I might ask to learn it when we visit at the end of June. His aunt died from cancer a couple of years ago, it would be nice to keep the pattern as a living memory and I'll learn something beyond the two stitches I've taught myself.
|Mr. Lina - sandbagging to reinforce the dike, it was easier to walk the sandbags on the lake side on the dingy.|