38 Weeks and Counting

Some of you have been here. That exhausted, sweaty, waddling, bloated, impatient, can't believe this will ever end feeling of a nice, big Indian food dinner. Ha! Man, I have no self-control. I don't. I blame everyone who has ever had Indian food with me for my inability to STOP already with the naan.

Isn't that what the end of pregnancy is like? Hot, irritable and incomprehensibly uncomfortable? Don't you get to blame everyone around you for your discomfort because, after all, you're a mom-to-be? Okay, okay, so I stuffed my own face and got to have some beer to go with it. There are differences between pregnancy and the final weeks of adoption, I guess.

We had a quick text chat with T again tonight that let us know that although she's game to go ahead with the switch from the attorney to a new California agency, she's just plain tired. Even if the new agency is going to make their way to her neck of the state to meet with her, she's got to start over with a new set of paperwork. Just tired of the situation.

We know we're on different ends of this arrangement, polar opposite ends in fact, but I think we share some common sentiments at this point. Still, we don't dare compare our experience with hers. It doesn't feel like two versions of the same daily onslaught of questions. It's a shared journey. Her part is right there alongside our part. We all want this to go smoothly. We all want it to be over, in different ways. We want the new start that it will bring, in different ways. We all feel full and tired and a little uneasy. The story is woven together and we feel fortunate to be writing it with T.