Standing at the edge of the abyss

Well that's what it feels like. I remember in the movie StarGate (which I doubt anyone reading this watched) the main character standing at the star gate, wanting to go through, more than anything, putting his hand through and withdrawing it, hesitating.

I'm there. I'm standing at the edge of something I have greatly desired, and I am very nervous.

I am not nervous about becoming a parent. Though each child is unique and wonderful, and becoming a mother is new each time, I am not afraid of that.

My nervousness exists on several levels, and these are in no particular order:

I am nervous about being the mom of someone who doesn't look like the flock of 10 I've accumulated. I don't even know what her birthparents look like. I have no idea what her features will be like, her coloring, let alone her personality or likes and dislikes. She is completely unknown to me. (Ironically, she is the only child I have known the gender of before meeting her.)

I am nervous about the journey, the hospital, the staff. I'm nervous about going to a strange city with two boys and husband, leaving the majority of our offspring at home and figuring that out from the road. I'm nervous about if I have what I need, if I have packed well (I know they have kitchen sinks there, but will it be the right kind??).

I'm nervous about meeting our birthmom. I've talked with her, prayed for and with her, and loved her from a distance. But there is still a great deal of insecurity about this relationship. I do not fully know why she is placing her child for adoption. I want more information, but do not want to risk making her feel uncomfortable or used.

I'm nervous about breastfeeding a tiny person while I am pregnant, not knowing if I will have enough milk for her (assuming her language skills won't be quite up to, "Mom, may I have a bottle of formula, you're not making enough here." Planning on picking up some helpful equipment, but will I have time before we go.

But really, what I'm really nervous about, is that tomorrow, or the next day, or the next, I'm going to be joining another culture, perhaps one that doesn't particularly want me in it. Oh, obviously there are many, many black people who are perfectly fine, even pleased about transracial adoption. I have had several discussions early in our journey with black friends and neighbors who were very encouraging.

But I went to the grocery store tonight, which is one of the places I go when I want to be the only white person. For one thing, I was racially profiled, I think. Two guys, one younger, one older, independently hit me up for money. They didn't approach anyone else. Of course, I may have been pregnant profiled. Or I may have been the most approachable candidate.

At any rate, being at my grocery store in my part of town just makes me wonder how people there will respond to me when, instead of bring my apricot skinned daughter in, I bring my chocolately skinned daughter in. Will it reject me, accuse me of stealing its children? Will I be able to train my girl to be comfortable in different cultures, even different expressions of different cultures.

So I'm nervous, but I think exhaustion is going to beat out nerves this time.