It's Friday afternoon. Must be time for my weekly breakdown.
I wish I could aptly explain how helpless I feel about this whole adoption thing. Her room is ready. Her clothes are folded. But she is there, and I am here. It is agonizing. I cannot stop thinking about her. My heart aches in my chest. I'm not sleeping worth a damn. I can't focus at work. I pray so hard and so often it's become a compulsion. I'm a complete mess. And at least once a day, some well-meaning soul asks, "So...when are you going back to Russia?" Jesus. It's like a knife to the gut each time I have to say, "I have no idea."
I cry a little bit every day, but what I really need is a good soul-soaking cry. The kind that doubles you over and gives you a massive headache. The kind of cry that exhausts you and makes your eyes look like you've gone 15 rounds with Tyson. But I can't. Because to do so would be to somehow admit how hopeless I feel. I know there's an end in sight to this emotional torture, but I simply cannot see it from where I sit.
And the worst of it is that I am feeling further and further away from Geej. With each day that passes, it's harder to remember what it felt like to hold her little body while she slept in my arms. And each day, she's growing and changing, and I'm missing it.
I read a story in last weekend's paper about a 6 month old baby girl admitted to Texas Children's Hospital in Houston after her parents--aged 19 and 21--had beaten her nearly to death. Fractured skull. Fractured arms and legs. Internal injuries. Tongue nearly completely severed. Evidence of sexual abuse. Is there a punishment that exists that is harsh enough for these two people? And they have another, older child as well. These two sick fucks have been given the gift of being able to bear children, and this is what they do. Unfathomable. And somehow since I've learned of this poor little girl, it has made me ache even more for the baby girl I cannot hold because she's kept 6,500 miles away because of fucked up bureaucratic bullshit. Man, the world is messed up.
"Stay put. I'm comin' to get you. I've got a job to accomplish. I will float on my raft for you."
--from the song, Float by Matson Belle