It's been over a week and no word from our agency (not that I am eager to speak with them, and I suspect their feelings are pretty much the same ~ if this comes across as harsh, it isn't meant to. This was a huge disappointment and there is no blame on them.) Saying we did our best is of no comfort. I have a yellow bedroom with lace curtains that that has no one to claim it, and I can't even bring myself to enter it, for fear reality will hit and I am not coping as well as I hope.
Nothing is ever set in stone, life I believe would be kinder if it was. You choose a path, a mission or quest, and you pursue it until you succeed or reach the end of your failures. This process has been going on in my head for 10 years. I am not saying we were actively adopting for ten years, but the idea of adopting has been going on in our lives for that long now. 5 years ago we started to look into it, and started to save to buy a bigger home. 3 years ago, we moved in and the first thing we did was tear down a wall, put of two and add and extra window to our house for a fifth bedroom. We did the PRIDE training, and I started doing my research into RAD. I took parenting courses, in order to better prepare myself as to what I could do.
My past was invaded and judged, my childhood tramas revisited, things that I hoped where long since buried were brought to the surface and lingered for several weeks, bringing with it some anger towards my parents, as well as myself for not being better, or stronger and waiting until I was married to find my backbone.
So here we are now, waiting for a window to open, or even the same door. This isn't the end for us, not yet.