J cut two teeth this weekend, one Saturday and one Sunday, the front bottom teeth. This seems early to me; it's either five and a half months true age, or three and a half adjusted. It's one more way of showing me that each child is their own, on their own schedule, with their own blueprint.
J is becoming himself.
I'd hoped hoped that this would calm his spirit; he'd been cranky. Make that CRANKY. But no luck there. There may be more teeth coming in; there's a bump to the left of his front teeth, which again would be off schedule. (We'd expect his top two teeth to come in next.) Or he may just be CRANKY. I understand why doctors prescribed valium for mothers in the past. The good old days...:)
His adoption seems stalled. His mother hasn't changed her mind; she still wants to give up rights. It seems the issue is paperwork and red tape. Sad how a little one's life doesn't tip the scale when weighed against these.
Any other parents out there who've fostered or adopted know this feeling of being terminally on hold. You go day in and day out, feeding, loving, losing sleep, and in the back of your mind is always the thought "What if...". You say, "Good morning, son!" and a little piece of your heart reminds you, quietly but firmly, that in the eyes of the law, he's not your son.
Funny, if we were in a less-advanced country, we could pass a generous amount of money to some official and speed this up. But no, here we cannot bribe. We're simply at the mercy of overworked, overwhelmed people who can't be inspired to move him to the top of their list. We don't look so advanced when you look at it that way, do we?
How many more milestones will we celebrate with J while in limbo?
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