On Irrational Adoption Fears

Sometimes, I don't know how Barbara puts up with me. Last night was one of those times.

For some reason, I have been desperately craving a baby recently, and not in that edible way. More in the Elvira hug-them-and-squeeze-them-and-love-them way. What with it not being something we're able to do soon for many reasons - some legalities, some financial - the question of "To Carry or to Adopt" has arisen. Last night, driving home, I was contemplating adoption. I was clearly low on medicinal dosage because my train of thought decided that, because I'm a little messed up, physically and mentally, it would be best to adopt. Besides, there are < insert huge large number here > of children who need love, and we have plenty of that to offer. With just a small side of insanity. And beetroot.

But - and here's where I flew off the rocker - I have a fear. I am irrationally afraid that I will have stupid expectations for our child, and when he or she falls short of those expectations, I will decide that we picked the wrong child. And want to take that one back and get the 'right' one.

I know, it's ridiculous. I even asked my girl last night what we would do if we got the name wrong. Like, 3 years down the line, we adopted another and decided that actually, this one fit the first one's name better. Thankfully, she only laughed until one side split, so the sutures were minimal.

So tonight, I'll be laying off the cheese/caffeine/crazy pills and trying not to think. I think that'd be best for everyone.