there was a holiday party at our adoption agency,
so we went.
lydia ignored the carolers and ate caramel corn,
pushed buttons in the elevator.
leanne and i looked around the room at all the other
families with their adopted kids.
we met our caseworker in the hallway.
“i saw tina,” she said.
“i took her out after she called me from the halfway house”
(she was in jail for a week or two and now is in the halfway house,
trying to get her life in order.)
“but when we were in the car, she said ‘guess what?’ and i said ‘no’.”
“she’s pregnant,” said our caseworker. “again.”
there was a big part of me that thought that maybe this decision,
to place rena in an adoption, was to be the first in a long line
of good, or at least better, decisions by her.
i thought that about her turning herself in too.
the first being an admittance of her inability to parent.
the second being an admittance of her inability to run forever or avoid or deny.
and yet here we are again.
or, here she is.
and soon, here another baby will be.
but for now, i concentrate on rena.
and she concentrates on trying not to puke
and on keeping our head up,
no matter what.