When Things Get Stalledfindingmagnolia
One theme that has been recurrent in our adoptions has been the periods of waiting while not knowing anything. Those are perhaps the hardest periods of time to get through because there’s just nothing you can do about it. There are no more questions you can ask or tasks you can do to help speed things along. You have to just wait, without knowing how long whatever it is you are waiting for will take to happen.
Today we expected to find out more about Elvie’s infection and possibly know how much longer she’d have to remain in the hospital. We found out instead that the cultures haven’t grown enough, so they don’t know anything yet. We just have to wait. I felt a little frustrated and wasn’t sure why. We really haven’t been here that long. Then it occurred to me: at this point in the adoption process, that kind of waiting is generally over. This is supposed to be the home portion, where I’m actively parenting and figuring out how to live my new normal, when I’ve started planning meals again and wearing something other than lounge pants. But here I am in my lounge pants anyway, and I’m not sure when I won’t need them anymore.
While things are stalled, there’s not much to be done except to wait and to make plans for whenever things get moving again. In this case, things moving will mean that Elvie will go home, and we can get back to finding our new normal. I plan to start cooking meals that are good for our health again. I plan to get out and get some sort of exercise every day. I plan to get our house decluttered and get the wall behind Elvie’s crib painted. I plan to wear proper pajamas to bed and clothes that are not made entirely of jersey knit during the day. I plan to fall asleep in my own bed and not wake to anyone other than my own little family. Simply put, I plan to live life normally. I was dreaming of vacation during our last hospital stay, but now I only dream of my own house and my own bed.
Until I can act on all those plans, I am doing my best to focus on the positive in the situation. Elvie is feeling much better and is back to being her old smiley, goofy self, and that is a relief. I can sit with her and let her fall asleep on my lap without interruption, and that is surely a small luxury that we don’t usually have at home. We are surrounded by people who absolutely adore Elvie, and I couldn’t ask for better care. It won’t be long before we do know something. As much as I’d love for a doctor to come by at midnight and say that it’s all figured out and we can go home in the morning, I know I can wait for as long as it takes. It might drive me a litle crazy, but I can do it.