Being a waiting mom on Mother's Day

So, I thought this past Mother's Day would be hard. Really hard. I remember last year, when Tim and I celebrated what we said would be our last childless Mom and Dad's Day. Yes, having two little mutts is wonderful, but until Dog Parent days become commonplace, it's not quite the same thing.

But the day was not nearly as horribly painful as I imagined it would be. I had a hard time sleeping the night before, and went back to bed about 6:00am and then slept until about 10:00 am, when Tim woke me. Yes, it was raining, again. Yes, the empty nursery was still there. But Tim had made me French Toast for breakfast, and there was a card from him "The future momma of my daughter". And a big chocolate bar, along with a promise that there is another gift to come. Tim is almost always late with gifts, so I knew the probability that he would have ordered an actual gift in time to give it to me on Mother's Day was low. However, what he lacks in punctuality, he usually makes up for in creativity. So I am excited. And waiting. Seems to be a theme in my life! But I felt OK...I felt, for the moment, like motherhood is going to happen for me, just not on my schedule. And I felt pretty damn confident that, next year, my daughter will be sitting in my lap on Mother's Day.

A couple of other nice things happened over the weekend. Friday night, I went out with three other waiting moms. They were all logged in in September, and so will be going to China before me. Yes, I could hate them...but I don't. They are all different from each other, and different from me, but I felt a real sense of connection. I felt like, even if we weren't all adopting from China, I'd still love talking with, laughing with these ladies. Even though they did not seem to understand that one of my TV crushes is Andy Sipowicz from NYPD Blue. Of course, this wasn't the first time someone has failed to get that. The night reminded me of how much I love "girls' nights out", as long as it's with the right girls. These were the right girls.

On Saturday morning, as Tim and I were preparing to go to the gym, we received a large package from his Aunt Vicky and Uncle Nick, who live in North Dakota. Inside was a pink "Hello Kitty" backpack suitcase with a handle for Isabella. It was a wonderful surprise. Later, when we called them to say thanks, they informed us that there was more...inside there were clothes for Isabella...some 12 months, some larger. Just perfect. And that made me feel like she was real, out there waiting to wheel around that pink suitcase someday soon.

At the gym, one of the staff members, Jim, came over to tell me I was looking good...that it looked like I had lost some weight. Of course, I haven't and he's probably lying, keeping the female gym members motivated with his cute little smile and "oh, I'll just lightly touch you on the arm" thing, but damn it, I am taking it.

And finally, to keep it real:
On Saturday, after coming back from the gym, I was in one of my "How Can I Make Our Home Nicer?" moods. This involves me trying to move around furniture, or getting Tim to move around furniture, me feeling frustrated and dis-satisified for no good reason. And finally, me having a teary episode, for again, no good reason. Aware that I am borderline psychotic, I ask Tim,

"Why do you love me?"

And he replies,

"Because I've been cursed by God".