Day 91: Daydreaming Conversations

Here's the thing: I'm ready to adopt.  Or at least begin the process.  I'm ready to accept that reality; I'm even a little bit excited about it.  I think about all the possibilities.  Sometimes I daydream about talking to a child.  And when they ask about their biological parents, I say that God made them special for us.  That he put so much love in our hearts and we needed someone to give all that love to.  And so God created a special little person, to be loved by us.  To be part of our family.  I imagine wide eyes and a curly mop of hair as I tell some little boy or girl  how completely they are loved.  How we've waited for them. 

But the reality in our marriage is that Rich isn't ready to adopt.  He's not ready to start the process or even look online.  When we knew that it was genetics and that chances of conception were nil, I purposed in my heart to give him time.  I said I would wait until he was ready.  I wouldn't push this on us because I don't want this to about me and what I want.  It's supposed to be about us, together.  It's supposed to be about love.  And hearts that want to give themselves away.  But he hasn't said a word.  When I bring up the topic in a casual sort of "one-day" kind of way, he gets quiet and vague, saying things like we'll see, and we'll have to talk more about that.  The same answers my mother used to give when I wanted to borrow the family minivan on a Saturday afternoon.  Answers that mean I-don't-think-so, but-good-luck-persuading-me-to-change-my-mind. 

And so I'm waiting.  I'm fighting off the itchy-finger urge to search out all the information.  To be rocket-ready when he says go for it.  But that feels like cheating.  So for now, I'll stick to daydreaming about someday, knowing it'll be a good one.