“Ding!”

I am like Pavlov’s dog. Ever since this process began, I’ve jumped every time I hear the “ding” that indicates that my phone has received a new email. I’ve even made my agencies special by indicating that any message from them should immediately show up on my home screen so that I don’t miss even the most basic and redundant news on our adoptions. But really, it’s so that I don’t miss the epic moments that will otherwise cause me to stop dead in my tracks regardless of where I am and dance and rejoice with loud celebratory crying.  So much so am I addicted to my phone that several times daily I find myself trying to force refresh my email. It’s an OBSESSION. There must be something new, right? I checked at 12:20 and now it’s 2:46. That gives my agent time to eat lunch and send an update…yes…obsessed. I think we all are. But I’m just going to put it out there. I AM. After nearly four years in this process and over two and a half years out from receiving our sons referrals, the “ding” needs to start being a little less disappointing.

I think the “ding” has also caused me to become a complete “ding” bat. I feel like I’ve got pregnancy brain. And the more Kreyol I learn, the less English I’m capable of speaking without ridiculous confusion. I’ve forgotten words. Basic words. Seriously. Like cereal. Who forgets what the word for cereal is? What’s makes something like this so ridiculous is that I don’t even know what Kreyol for cereal is. And there’s little use in learning words like cereal now that my children refuse to eat what used to be one of their favorite foods, Corn Flakes. You don’t need to know the Kreyol for cereal, because the kids just call every kind of cereal Korn Flakes anyway. Thus, my total stupidity.

I’m not sure I can inject enough B12 to save my brain at this point. I’m pretty sure that it’s all down hill for me from here. I’m stupid now; but when I take them home I’ll likely become a certifiable moron. I’m guessing it’ll be like the stage right after you have a baby. You nurse, and you could swear that with every feeding your child is literally sucking your brain away. Yep. That’ll be me. Next I’ll forget the words for bread and milk. But luckily I know those in Kreyol. So when I show up at the grocery store feverishly frustrated that I can’t force re-load my email to deliver the almighty “ding” on any news for V, at least I’ll be able to ask the market staff for lecht and pen. Super. And when they cock their heads and wait for me to look up from my phone, hopefully they’ll recall that I’m that lady who has been waiting for four years to bring her kids home. Maybe they’ll forgive my stupidity and obsession with the “ding” when they see me chase V down the same cereal aisle I stood in when we got news that our file went into IBESR for her and I literally jumped up into the air and shouted in happiness – drawing all kinds of attention from people who likely still remember the crazy woman at the store who jettisoned from a normal leisurely stroll into full on break dance and party mojo in the otherwise fairly no frills organic cereal aisle. Yep. If you were there, that girl is me.

For those of you who are experiencing me in this epic disaster that is my adoptions, please know that one day I hope to retain a semblance of my life that doesn’t involve having half of my heart on the other side of an ocean. Hopefully one day I will be able to put the phone back in my purse instead of having it sit next to my plate at lunch with friends. Hopefully I will sit on the couch with all of my kids one day without having the potential news from Haiti in my pocket. Hopefully Monday, Wednesday, and Friday will become regular days of the week instead of the eagerly awaited and ultimately sorely disappointing days of the week. Hopefully there will one day be the final “ding” that indicates that V has received approval and it is time to book the flight to bring her home.

But until then, thank you for your continued patience. Love, the “ding” bat.