Difficult conversations

After having a jumbo cry, well, I've now had conversations with the following people:

1. Husband
2. My mother
3. My father
4. My uncle-who-is-my-boss-who-is-like-a-second-father (who I had to bother on his cell phone while he is driving to his cottage up north, and who thought, by the tone in my voice, that I was calling to tell him something had gone horribly wrong with one of our cases...)
5. My grandma
6. My agency

All of these calls were difficult. First, talking to Husband about what to do, and then making the decision to decline. Then telling family members what the doctor said, and getting their feedback.

And then, the worst, calling my agency to tell them we just are not the family for this child.

I kind of thought they would be angry...

They weren't.

They were...incredibly understanding. They appreciated that we had spoken to three doctors, including one "expert". They said, "we will find a family for this child, and a child will find his or her way to your family."

My mom said, "Sam or Sophie is still out there. She'll find her way home." (Um, yeah, Freudian slip on my mom's part - mom's rallying for a girl, but, I'm sure she is going to be disappointed...but, that's okay. She'll love whoever we bring home.)

I feel, strangely, drained and schmuck-like for not being a better person, but almost relieved that the not knowing part is over, at least for now.

I'm taking Gabe to sleep at his cousins' house (my sister's) tonight. They have been planning a sleepover since last weekend. (Gabe is lucky to have ten cousins right here in town, and an eleventh one is due to be born in the next few days. My siblings are all a bunch of frequent baby-havers, what can I say...)

Husband says that, since we have a "babysitter", he is taking me out for wood-fired pizza and drinks with friends. I'm not sure I'll be much fun. I think he thinks it will help.

Oh he**, we might as well go see the Flight 93 movie, cause I think that's pretty much on the level of where my mood will be...

LM