It's the year I turn 35---quite possibly the very age I've idealized since I was about 19. Ahhh, 35---life will be PERFECT then.
So naive.
But the irony is---despite the wisdom I've gained and the disappearance of the rose-coloured glasses, I'm actually feeling like this could be a very good year. Admittedly, a large part of this has to do with the optimism around being matched with a baby. The journey has just begun and I have every reason to think we're good candidates. We're officially in the game now (*see our booklet above) and we have a lot to offer, if I do say so myself. I'm sure this confidence will come back to bite me in the ass but for now, it's serving me well.
I happened to be in Ottawa on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday (mainly to meet with my former therapist to update my paperwork to appease my family doctor on the mental health question) and at the suggestion of our social worker, I arranged to meet with one of the better adoption licensees in Ontario. I spent over 2 hours with her and walked away with a better idea of what we're in for, in the way of birthmother expectations. One of these expecatations that threw me for a bit of a loop was the surprisingly common practuce of "name sharing." Essentially, it is what is. The birthmother shares her favourite names with the adoptive parents and it's agreed that the baby will have at least one name of the birthmother's choosing. Personally, I have a bit of difficulty with this, but it's not something that I couldn't come around on. My only condition would be that Don and I choose the child's first name (which, by the way, we already have a nice roster to choose from).
Had a great tine in Ottawa, hanging with brother Doug and my expectant sister-in-law. They're clearly made for each other as evidenced by the above picture.
