On the days when it isn't all happy...

"Request for Absence" form.  Don't mind my snow day hair.  

I'm trying to fill out this paperwork for maternity leave.  (Can't believe I just said that!)  The paperwork isn't a big deal at all; it's the people's reactions that kill me.

The lady at personnel was pleasant and helpful.  When I heard what one of my co-workers said about me taking maternity leave when the baby comes, though, I wanted to go cry in the bathroom.  "Seriously?!  She's taking maternity leave?  She isn't even having a baby!!"

I could have done without that reminder.  No, I'm not having a baby.  But that baby will be ours, and why in the world would I not want to spend the first six weeks of its life at home, like everyone else who has a newborn?  Oh right, because women aren't really moms until a baby pops out of their own bodies.

Another thing: Babies R Us.

There is nothing wrong with the store in general, other than it being super overwhelming for someone (AKA practically every new mom) who has no clue about what babies actually need.  I didn't like registering for our wedding because there were too many decisions to make, but this experience was something else entirely.

Andrew had to work on Monday, but my parents were in town to help me with baby stuff.  They graciously offered to go with me to register, which would have been extremely unproductive (and probably hilarious) if I had gone by myself.  I really am thankful that they came.  But the whole time I was in Babies R Us, I just wanted to flash my wedding ring to justify that I'm not a teen mom and that I am, in fact, married to a guy who just happened to have to work on President's Day.

Also, I've never wanted to have a belly and constantly work out because I'm afraid of that happening.  On this one day, though, I wished I had stuffed a pillow under my shirt or had a baby in tow like every other woman in the store.  I felt so many eyes on me, probably wondering why a person like me was carrying around a registry gun and pointing it at cribs, high chairs, and diapers.

When I taught autism and took my students on outings, we would get stares from all sorts of people. I loved my kids so much that I wanted to put signs on their shirts saying something like, "I have autism.  Be kind.  Stop staring."  I wanted to protect them from the ignorance of others.  Now I want to wear a sign on myself saying, "No, it's okay!  My husband and I are adopting!"  I want to justify myself for a making a decision that shouldn't need any justification.  

I'm sure this is just the beginning of the rude comments and judging stares, especially if we adopt a baby who doesn't look like us.  I do know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this is the right thing.  I just wish I wasn't so sensitive sometimes.  The family and friends in our lives, the people who truly matter, have been beyond supportive.

"The truth will set you free."  I'm constantly reminding myself of that through this crazy journey.