Expertly Waiting, She Waits
Our Travel Approval (TA) should arrive this week. Some folks in our referral group received theirs last week, but note that I am not bitter about this. Not me. “Good for them!” I say. Smiling.
Shane has told me in the past that whenever I say, “look how patient I’m being!” that is evidence to the contrary. This implies that one must be both patient and undercover in order to be considered Truly Patient. I had never learned this. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s bogus, and I hate it.
So even though this might bounce right back up and smack me in the face, I just have to put this out there: I am being really, really patient. I have been patient. I will continue to be patient. And I want that goddamn TA.
With the TA comes the sudden and important ability of our adoption agency to make an appointment for us at the US Consular office in Guangzhou. Though this will be one of our last paperwork stops in China, the date we will first hold our child hinges on this particular appointment. All other appointments are scheduled around the US Consulate’s calendar. As soon as we get our TA, the agency will make the call, and we will know our travel dates within a day or two. Shortly after that, we should know our entire travel schedule, including which day we are to meet our daughter. Amazing. The calendar sits at my side, waiting. Green pen, waiting. Patiently, I assume, in that they are inanimate objects.
Today at work I did a pretty good job of Not Checking My E-mail for most of the day. Good for me. I did check my cell phone ringer several times, but I must point out that when I went to the grocery store on my way home from work, I left the phone IN THE CAR. How’s that for a carefree, devil-may-care attitude? Phone? What phone? I’m WAY more interested in this stack of avocados than anything else. I even dawdled in the magazine section. I felt downright well-adjusted.
But now I am home, and that floating funk of endless waiting is everywhere. I know this suspended feeling so well by now. Progress but no progress. Time stretched out, thin and sharp. I am afraid of thinking about it, let alone writing about it. The years I have spent waiting for this child are almost behind me. Yes, I will go to yoga class. Yes, I will walk the dog. Yes, I will breathe. But no, I will not go into Lina’s room. Not today.