An Adopting Mother’s Dream

There’s a lot an adoptive mother dreams about.  I know this because I read mommy blogs and a growing number of those blogs are adoptive mommy blogs, go figure.  They are full of a lot of soulful, insightful, tearjerk, uglycry, ah ha moments.

Now, as an adopting parent myself, I get an inside view on what, exactly, an adopting mom dreams about. Prepare yourself, it’s a wild ride in my mind.

I occasionally daydream about one day inventing and patenting a robot that washes my dishes for me. No, a dishwasher is not what i’m talking about. I mean something sleek and cool, something that says “oh yeah, i totally have a robot washing my dishes.” Hey, a girl can dream.

I weekly daydream about building a cute little chicken coop, or quail run, or dove cote, (or all three!) and thereby giving my kids having the chance to experience little flocks of cooing, cheeping, squawking friends.  Feeding my own growing flock of kiddos from our own chickens would be pretty cool too.

I daily dream about planting currant bushes, building a pond, riding my bike on cool breezy sunny days, and inventing a new recipe for popovers.  If you read any blog posts here on Heaht&Home before we started the adoption process this will all look familiar because, surprise, I have the same dreams as before because I’m still me; always have been, always will be.

But here is an actual dream I had the night after sending all our hard earned blood sweat and tears (mostly tears, though I did get a number of papercuts from those suckers) paperwork to head out to Eastern Europe.  I can have vivid dreams; I’m not really sure if they’d be considered lucid dreams.

In this dream I was following along with our paperwork as it was carried overnight via FedEx down to Texas.  I’d given instructions for it to be dropped off at the destination even if no one was home.  The FedEx guy knocked and rang the doorbell, waited a few moments, then tucked that paperwork between the screen door and the front door.  As he drove away I lingered with the paperwork and noticed that surroundings seemed quite bleak,  one could say forbiddingly deserted, even by Texas standards.  I had this growing suspicion that I had given the wrong address, that this paperwork had been dropped off at an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere Texas!  In horror I watched a tornado formed on the horizon, it swept down the road and rattled the screen door. Instantly the paperwork flew out and was whirled away, never to be seen again.  I sat there, watching the tornado leave, and just kept hovering there aghast at what I had witnessed.  The next day the FedEx guy came back, they had sorted out the issue back at the office and he was going to retrieve the package and deliver it at the correct location.  Of course, he couldn’t find it.  I tried to explain what had happened, that a tornado had come through and taken the paperwork.  There was no other sign of damage from the tornado, the only thing it disturbed was the screen door and the package.  As my desperation increased at my failed attempts at communication it dawned on me that I should have been affected by the tornado too, I shouldn’t have sat on the porch watching it go by. There was also absolutely no sound, not even my own voice. Ahhhhh. At that I decided I was dreaming and that I wanted to stop dreaming.  I opened my eyes, went to the kitchen, made a cup of tea, and sent a facebook message to the woman who was to receive our paperwork. It had arrived, I had not given the wrong address, there was no tornado.

And that is what an adopting mom’s dream looks like.

Advertisements

2 comments on “An Adopting Mother’s Dream

  1. I understand the fun dreams. And I do highly recommend a backyard chicken coop! Watching chickens is way more entertaining than watching t.v.
    And this woman in Texas, did she happened to be named Megan? If so, she is a wonderful delivery helper and all around great lady!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s