Measuring a Week Behind...

I feel exactly the same way I did a couple of years ago. Steven and I had gone for an ultrasound. We had a heartbeat on the monitor. The embryo, however, was, "Measuring a week behind," and, " Could go either way." The level of anxiety was terrible. At the end of the week we learned,"There is no longer a heartbeat."

I feel like our adoption could go either way. Is there even such a thing as a failed International adoption? Seems quite rare. But then again, Steven and I fall into that rare category a lot. Is the universe hitting me on the head and I am not paying attention? As we move our adoption money into our monthly bills account, as Steven's caretaking weariness begins to chip away at his soul, I feel things falling apart.

I am afraid that the only Ethiopian children we will know will be those of our friends. I feel like I will be that one woman, "Out of the twelve women trying, nine eventually got pregnant, two adopted and one chose to remain childfree." Only I am not choosing. My circumstances may be deciding for me. Has it really taken me almost ten years to figure out that the universe does not want me to be a parent? I am an idiot.