Opening Pandora's Box

Well, where do I begin? I guess the first place is with our sincerest thanks to all of you who have emailed, called, sent cards, and just been there for us over the past 12 days. On the 8th when we got the news that our case wouldn't be heard until further notice b/c of questions of corruption, we were devastated. So many of you reached out to us with positive vibes, prayers, and wishes. Honestly, we just can't thank all of you enough for being there for us, even from thousands of miles away. I haven't had the energy or words to respond to all of you, because, quite frankly, I've been totally self-absorbed, depressed and wordless. I'm sorry for that.

I'm also sorry that neither of us has blogged. Again, there's just been nothing to say. I haven't had the energy to type, and I haven't been able to figure out what value it would be to share where we are, emotionally. At the time we started the blog, we were excited to bring people into our "adventure", because we knew it would have a happy ending..and who wouldn't want to be a part of that? But the past 12 days have been less than an adventure. And I've wondered...who would want to read about a cancer growing? Who would want to read about a car crash happening in slow motion? Who would want to be dragged down by our depression? So, we've just been quiet.

The quietness hasn't been good for me, though. And I think I need to write to just let some of it pour out. At first I didn't want to write because I didn't want to drag any of you down. Now I think I need to, because I desperately need to let some things out. I've been trying to "protect" our blog so that Addison can one day inherit it as part of his life story...of how we waited for him, how we felt along the way. And I realize now that all this pain that we are feeling is just as much a part of his life story as the fun of packing up cute little Brooklyn t-shirts into our travel bags. And I'm also realizing that trying to pretend to be strong is pretty self destructive. For every tear that I fight back, it's another hour that I can't fall asleep at night. For every paragraph that I write in my head but am too proud to share with myself or Addison or even Radames, the more I want the morning to turn into night so I never have to get out of bed.

Honestly, things just haven't been good around here. Saturday the 9th was probably one of the longest days of my life. I can barely remember how I spent the day, but I know it was a combination of staring at the clock and wanting to slam it against the wall because the second hand wasn't moving fast enough to make it turn into Sunday. I remember just staring at Radames a lot and, without words, just knowing that I knew what he felt and that he knew what I felt. I remember being in the shower and wanting to just sit down and let the water wash the sadness off of my skin. But I couldn't, because I didn't want Ella to come in...and I didn't want Radames to think I was weak or impatient.

And then Sunday rolled around, and it was Mother's Day. Ella and Radames woke me up with flowers and...honestly, it's just a blur. I know that I was chipper in front of Ella and so thankful that she is in our lives. I didn't want her to know I was sad and mad and confused and resentful and a wreck. She kept saying, "It's a beautiful day outside, Mommy," and it was. When I finally walked outside and felt the sun beating down, I picked her up and held her and said, "Addison's going to come home right, honey?"...so weak that I needed the comforting of a 4-year-old...and she said, "Yes, he is, mommy, he'll be here soon" as she patted her little hand against my back like a mother would her child. I wept in her ear like a baby as she looked at me bewildered and said, "Can we go to Daniel's (her cousin) now?" She had no idea what was going on, and she still doesn't, but her 10 seconds of reassurance meant the world to me.

I felt like I needed to be alone so I told Radames and Ella I'd meet them at Daniel's. I went for a ride on my scooter and waited for the 50-mile-an-hour winds to blow the sadness off of me. I drove around to I-don't-know-where, just watching the minutes tick by on the little clock on my Vespa, with tears dripping down my face as I could barely see the road. It felt good, though, because no one could see me...and after an hour or so, I went and celebrated Mother's Day with my mom and Terrance's family and mine. We had fun for a while, and I thought it would be fine, but as all the hooplah of the evening wound down, I found myself alone with my mind...haunting me as I lay there listening to Radames' breathe, searching for answers, wishing so badly that i could turn my mind off and go to sleep.

I decided on Monday that work would be the perfect solution. If I'd just stay busy the days would pass faster, and if i'd run from my emotions well enough, they wouldn't find me. So Monday I decided that I would not think about the unknown, and that i would just throw myself into work. It did help. Monday was busy and I did pretty well. But then the night came again. Damnit. The fucking night. When no phones are ringing, when no emails are coming in, when everyone is asleep but me...as I sit and ask myself 1,000 different ways...what does it mean when Toni (our counselor at CHI) says "hang tight"? what if he isn't abandoned? what if he was sold? what if he was stolen? how must his mom feel? is his case under investigation? why are we being punished for things that have nothing to do with his case? when will someone call us? when will we know something? when will the courts address the issue? why can't they issue a timeframe? why won't they tell us what's next? how long should we wait? is he really meant to be our son? maybe it's not meant to be? maybe it is meant to be? maybe we should fly there and show the courts how nice we are and how much we want him? why can't we have babies the old fashion way? why aren't i thankful that we have ella? why am i wasting energy trying to solve the unsolvable? why am i stealing any minute that i could be enjoying life with ella and radames thinking about a child that we really don't even know yet? why can't i fall asleep? why is my mind playing tricks on me? why aren't those breathing exercises working? maybe if radames would just put his hand on my back i'd be able to fall asleep...and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on. Until i wonder what separates me from the psychos in the nut house... until i wonder how edgar allen poe and i must be related because the goddamn heartbeat under the floor won't stop fucking haunting me.