Nuts.

I think I am nuts.

I am going to write all this out because I don't understand myself or my feelings. I think I am crazy.

Right now, I am sitting in Dave's just delivered recliner in my new family room addition that is not yet complete- we are still waiting on the siding. The furniture has been here for about an hour and a half.

Yet, all I can think about is that now I will have room for a pack and play.

I want a baby.

While I cannot physically give birth, I know from first hand experience that I can love through adoption. Because we are still involved with DCS, we are considered a foster home. We have never had a call to take any children. For the past six months or so, I have jokingly said that I would take a weekend baby (a baby waiting for placement - just for a few days). Dave automatically says NO! and please don't ask again. Lately, I have mentioned it more than a few times, so now it is just an ugly look that comes from him with no verbal response whatsoever.

Goodness, do I ever understand his reasoning. Five kids. Three teenagers. School. Store. Football. Juggling of the worst kind. I am so sad that I have these feelings, but he does not. I am sad to even talk about it. For some reason, I just feel like I have more room. Last weekend, I saw a newborn in Walmart. She was crying, and I knew it was a hungry cry. I said, outloud to myself, "What a hungry girl." And her mom said, "yes, she is." My arms ached.

Maybe I am doing too much liquid hormone drops. Who the heck knows. There is just so much love here. A few days ago, the caseworker was here and she told me they had three newborns in the past week. She "almost" called us with an 8 day old baby. She knows that we are a mixed- feeling household and she didn't. Again. I ache.

I try to tell myself that I will have grandchildren in about ten years (I hope, for my children's sake). It doesn't help. I am only thirty five. I can still be a mom to a little one. One foster mother turned adopted mother of 11 (ELEVEN) children told me to "pray". Pray for a baby. I would feel so wrong doing that to Dave. So I don't pray. I don't talk to God about it. I can't. What if he told me no? What if I didn't like His answer?

Sometimes, I daydream that the caseworker calls on a Friday night. "Mel..." she says. "I have a new baby -just for a couple of days..." Dave would look at me and shake his head no. No questions asked. I would be angry.

So, maybe it is a good thing that they don't call.

But-

I see how my girls have grown from love and stability in the past nine months. Right now, I am in tears, seeing how much I can offer. I have saw so much badness out there. I just know that I can make a difference. I just don't seem to know my limits.