Reflections

One year ago RIGHT NOW, I had no idea it would be over. Well, not really no idea. I had that idea since April 24, when Joanne accidentally told me she had lied about Family Court. (In February, before my visit trip, she told me I was done with FC and that we were just waiting for DNA to go into PGN. On April 24, that's the day she first mentioned another referral but then immediately talked me OUT of it on the phone, saying that the other case would be out of PGN any day and then I'd have DNA and we'd just have to go into FC before PGN.) And I definitely thought it would be over when AS told me about Thanassis' involvement. And quite honestly, even on that last day of my visit trip when I couldn't get in touch with Ingrid's foster mother for two hours and I didn't get to see her at all that last day, I had a feeling things were very bad and no one was telling me. It was that "sixth sense" thing telling me things weren't right. And they were very, very wrong.

I don't really know the exact date Joanne (or Thanassis) found out about the two cedulas. I know it was in February 2006 and I know I wasn't told about it until March 29, which was five days after I was told I finally had DNA authorization after a 3-month wait. Even if it was February 28, that's OVER A MONTH that I wasn't informed of something that had a serious effect on my process. From what I understand, it was much earlier in February. Possibly, probably, before I went on the visit trip on February 19. Maybe even before the lie about FC on February 14. It doesn't really matter the exact date the other case was sent to minors (or as Joanne told me, sent for an investigation, like there's a difference). The important thing to remember is, I was completely lied to. For FOURTEEN months. This is the truth:

• My Power of Attorney was never filed.
• I was never entered into Family Court.
• I never got DNA authorization.
• The case WAS in minors investigation at least two times.
• The child's name is NOT Ingrid! (Yup, believe that one!)

A year ago today, I went to work like usual. My records show that I had been corresponding all week with AS, and they were quite hopeful I could still adopt Ingrid. I had already started the homestudy update process, intending to change it to two children in case the other family didn't want to wait for Ingrid's bsister so I could adopt them both (or start another case that would actually result in me adopting a child). After work, I went to happy hour with some friends. I hung out until about 8:00. Then I went to get a present to send to Jill, who was just ready to bring Aly home. I walked around the kids' furniture section of Walmart for a while, realizing that if I were to adopt the bsister I'd need a toddler bed and probably the bunk bed thing instead of the trundle I planned for Ingrid. I looked at a few outfits, imagining dressing them alike-yet-different, in similar colors but not the same exact outfit in different sizes. Oh, and I bought some Ben & Jerry's. (Remember the days during my "adoption process" when I used to hang out with my good friends B & J? I haven't seen them since like June. Another sign the depression lifted.)

And then I came home. And I got that e-mail from AS that I posted last night. It was sent about 15 minutes after I left work, which is actually a blessing. I don't know how I could have gotten home after reading that, because I freaked out. I absolutely lost it.

Doug was working the night shift. And he didn't have a cell phone, so there was no way to even get in touch with him for another 2 hours or so. My mother still didn't know about Ingrid (we were waiting until DNA to tell her). My sister was out partying. Resa and Vicki and Dawn were sleeping. I was all. alone. and. hysterical. Not a good place to be.

I sent a post to adoption.com saying AS just told me my process ended, and it got deleted because I said AS. I was. all. alone.

There was no way I could sleep. I knew that. I sat on my sofa and cried. Went to the bathroom and cried. Laid in bed and cried. Came back to the sofa and cried. Didn't eat the ice cream because I was crying. Read some blogs and cried. Sat in Ingrid's room and cried. I just cried and cried. For HOURS. I finally fell asleep at about 4 in the morning.

And then the next day, I had to be up and ready to go at 9:30 to go to a wedding. I carpooled with someone who had NO IDEA what this baby-need was all about, and it was just us in the car. For almost two hours. Nothing to say, nothing to do, just be miserable inside myself because I couldn't cry to her. The hotel we stayed at, for some reason had Santa Claus walking around (yeah, on October 7). I cried realizing that Ingrid wouldn't have Santa with me, that I may never have the joy of watching my child visit Santa. My friend couldn't take the tears and actually YELLED at me.

I got so rip-roaring drunk at the wedding. Because, really, who cared? I just lost my daughter, and I can't even tell anyone! I can't talk about it, no one would understand. No one would care.

Even now, a year later, I'm crying ugly tears just remembering it. How horrible it all was. Being all alone like that, no one knowing, no one caring, all alone.

I don't cry about it every day anymore. I can finally say that the pain is starting to subside. Starting, not over. I'll NEVER be over this. When I do eventually bring home another child, it will NOT be a replacement for Ingrid. I know from friends who lost a referral that the child they have at home is definitely the child that was always meant to be theirs, but I also know from friends who fell in love with their lost referral that they never forget.

I'll never forget. I won't forget Ingrid. I won't forget what Joanne did to me. I won't forget what Thanassis did to the bfamily. I won't forget the fear in the foster mother's face when she talked about the man who turned out to be Thanassis, and I won't forget the fear in her voice when she said the "abogado" would be mad to find out I called (she called Thanassis the attorney, which he is NOT).

Maybe I was all alone because I didn't spill this horrible news until two months later, until the raw emotion was gone and just the pain and depression were left. But I had to do that, because of Joanne. I am 100% certain that if I said AS told me the adoption would never happen, then Joanne would have denied what AS said and called me (and them) all kinds of names, and then she would have strung me along until this very day. I don't doubt that AT ALL. She's done it before, she would have definitely used that as an opportunity to get back at me for whatever she thought I had done.

A year ago today, my dream died. I lost my daughter.