I am thinking about/planning/procrastinating a search for H2's birth mother. In her interview with our agency, she said she would like to receive some photos. And yes, since H2 is now 2.5 years old, I have put it off long enough, and I know
that I'm a terrible person. So you don't need to tell me that. And I would have done it before- but it's honestly really expensive. Like maybe more than a thousand buckaroos. Which I don't happen to have hidden in a cookie jar. And it's hard- mentally and physically.
So, I have to find a person to conduct said search.
Then I have to write a letter. Dear birth mother, thank you for our son. Sorry it sucks to be you. Love, Slush. Just kidding. Hold those flaming arrows.
Then I have to find pictures to include which: include shoes (this is a Guatemalan thing, and we live in Arkansas...); don't look dangerous, snotty or ratty; make H2 look happy and healthy (which he is, so this one at least is easy).
Then I have to have the letter translated into Spanish, send it to Guatemala with my big fat check, and wait to see what happens. Maybe they can't find her. Maybe they find her and she doesn't want to hear from us again. Maybe they find her and she starts asking for money because we are 'rich Americans.' Ha ha ha. But seriously, it's a valid concern. Or maybe she wants to have a great relationship with her son and a lifelong bond is formed. See- I can be optimistic. It's just not easy for me.
So, with these thoughts in my little head (and really, I wear and extra, extra small bike helmet), I wish for some sand in which to stick my head. I wouldn't need much.
No shoes! Impending danger! This one won't do.