Agony

(March, 2001) -- I am euphoric over our meeting with Crystal, the expectant mother who has tentatively chosen us to parent her baby. It’s the sensation of new love, and the expression “walking on air” is apt. We’re going to have a baby!! Maybe. Every wave of happiness and hope must be tempered with caution.

Crystal said she'll call us tomorrow.

So beginning that day, I check for messages every hour. Two days pass. Three, stretching into four…

OMG. She's changed her mind about us.

Now I can’t think at work. I replay our meeting over and over again trying to find out where it went wrong. I get anxious and cranky, then depressed. Roger tries to calm me down. “We really don’t know anything yet,” he says.

Should I call her? Is it appropriate? Pushy? Desperate?

I break down and call, leaving a message.

She calls back shortly saying, “I’m glad you called – I had written down the wrong number for you.”

We’re back on track, maybe. This could be quite a roller coaster ride.