What do you mean it's not all about me...?

OK, it's still mostly about me, but sometimes I forget that there are other people waiting very impatiently for our daughter -- namely, my mother. My father passed away more than nine years ago, although it still seems very fresh. My parents had one of the best marriages I have ever seen, and my mother is not quite whole without him. As a result, having a grandchild has become a bit more important to her than I initially expected. I spent a long time on the phone with her last night. She had a bad week, and she can sink into depression quite easily. Last week when we talked, she was sharing her anger and frustration with me about the adoption. Anger that it is taking so much longer than she thought -- longer than any of us thought. She is 75, and she is heartbroken that she is becoming a grandmother for the first time so late in life. She feels shortchanged, knowing that she will not get to spend as many years with her grandchild as she had hoped, and she won't have as much energy as she'd like. Of course, I am equally angry and frustrated about the delays. And I wish she would be around for all the major milestones of her grandchild's life -- right up to having great-grandchildren. But I know that's not very likely. And I also wish she could be more of a hands-on grandparent than she will probably be able to be, due to her age and some residual pain from foot surgery. The important part for both of us is to remember that we are not angry and frustrated AT anyone, just angry and frustrated. Anyway, last night we had a really positive conversation, expressing our frustrations about the adoption taking so long, but promising that no matter now frustrated and angry we get, we can't direct it at each other. I'm going to visit her this weekend (she lives just an hour away). She was so cheered up at the thought of a visit with me, it made me happy and sad at the same time. The level of responsibility I feel for her is something my husband always supports, but I don't think he fully understands. His parents still have each other, and he is one of the "out-of-town" kids, which does make a difference. As much as I have come to see how difficult it is to be the primary resource/contact/lifeline for an aging parent, I have also come to see what a privilege it is. I feel very bad for my sister (who lives 5 hours from my mother) that she will never have the opportunity I've had to develop a friendship with my mother, or offer the kind of support that I have been able to do since I'm close by and haven't had many other family obligations to juggle. I've realized that in addition to my personal life and my marriage being impacted (for better and sometimes perhaps not for the better) by having a child, I'm also seeing that my relationship with my mother is going to enter a new phase. There will be more depth and bredth to our conversations and visits, but I will also have more demands on my time. My mother has been my best friend other than my husband, and just like it was incredibly difficult for her to adjust to sharing me with my husband, it is going to be another difficult adjustment to share me with a child. I hope she understands that having a grandchild will be wonderful, but her daughter/lifeline/friend might have less time for her. So, I guess it gets back to being about me...

A Song Stuck in My Head

Happens to me all the time. I love music, all kinds (ok, no opera and the hip-hop gets old quickly -- hey, I'm 40, what can I say), and I can't stand not having the radio on in my car. There is always a song or two in heavy rotation that speaks to me. A few months ago, when I was having a harder time coping with the adoption wait, it was Train's "Cab." You know -- "The days are better, the nights are still so lonely. Sometimes I think I’m the only cab on the road." I tend to like folky tunes in general, and I love the bluegrass twang of the song, reminds me of The Jayhawks. Anyway, since I am feeling a little more stable and upbeat about the wait (could it be because it is finally coming to an end?!), I have a new theme song, courtesy of KT Tunstall. It's called "Suddenly I See..." Suddenly I See KT Tunstall Her face is a map of the world Is a map of the world You can see she's a beautiful girl She's a beautiful girl And everything around her is a silver pool of light The people who surround her feel the benefit of it It makes you calm She holds you captivated in her palm Suddenly I see (Suddenly I see) This is what I wanna be Suddenly I see (Suddenly I see) Why the hell it means so much to me I feel like walking the world Like walking the world You can hear she's a beautiful girl She's a beautiful girl She fills up every corner like she's born in black and white Makes you feel warmer when you're trying to remember What you heard She likes to leave you hanging on her word Suddenly I see (Suddenly I see) This is what I wanna be Suddenly I see (Suddenly I see) Why the hell it means so much to me And she's taller than most And she's looking at me I can see her eyes looking from a page in a magazine Oh she makes me feel like I could be a tower A big strong tower She got the power to be The power to give The power to see Suddenly I see (Suddenly I see) This is what I wanna be Suddenly I see (Suddenly I see) Why the hell it means so much to me The song is wonderfully upbeat and addictive. I listen to it, and I picture our daughter in my head. OK, I used to have an image that I created in my head, but lately, I keep picturing Karen's daughter on a blog I visit -- sorry Karen! Since I haven't actually seen our daughter yet, it's hard to create a random image after you've look at other families' referral photos on a daily basis... Anway, the song chokes me up and makes me smile at the same time. What can I say, I'm a simple girl with simple needs...