Sunday, May 29, 2011

Everything has a price.... WRITTEN 5/11/11

During this process I wrote a few blogs that I never published.  This is the first of that series....

I would say I learned this lesson during the adoption process.
How much do you want to be a parent?
Okay, that is worth $ _______ if you do it this way or $_________ if you go this route.
How badly do you want to be a parent to _______ ?
Okay, that is worth $ _________.
Oh, you want a baby from that country?
That will be $_______.
I went through periods of shock and apathy.
It felt at times like they were putting a price on something that, to me, seemed unpriceable....priceless if you will.
How could a system come up with a monetary value for something that was already in my heart?  How could they cheapen this deep desire I had to be a parent?
I know now that it was necessary.  It was legit.  But it didn't hurt any less.

Tonight I sat at a table as a realtor put a price on the home we had built.  We didn't build the foundation, but we built it into our home.
I could feel the tears welling in my eyes...
So that is the cost of Miles first steps on our dining room floor, or Liam's first army crawl on the living room rug?
That is the price of the nursery I painted - each tree branch in anticipation of my child that was waiting for me across an ocean?
This is how much it will cost a family to buy the yard filled with every tree I ever planted, bush I ever pruned, and perennial I ever purchased?
The attic that holds all of my little baby boy clothes, and my artwork.
The basement we finished and threw some awesome Halloween parties in.
The wall I knocked out one day on a whim when I got home from work.
The fish pond I dug with my own two hands.
The pencil lines that mark how tall Miles and Liam were at a year.
The curtains I sewed with my grandma's machine.
The nail on the second floor that I snag every sock I own on.
The birds that sing to me every morning and evening.
The garden we dug up and filled with bountiful vegetable plants.
The cabinets we hung in the kitchen.
The fourth bedroom we were always going to finish.

Does anyone want to buy my life?  Because I feel like I just put it up for sale.