I hit rock bottom the other week (for like the 12th time during this process) after the announcement of two close-to-my-age pregnancies in my immediate circle, which coincided with our best and favorite, favorite, awesome social worker resigning her post. We are left without a social worker until the agency hires a new one. This will be our sixth (seventh?) social worker since we began the process, nearly three-and-half years ago.
Something is fishy, too, which is concerning because we'll never learn why. I had put the number of resignations and reassignments down to the fact they seem to hire young social workers and likely don't pay well. (so the women move on to better opportunities, I reasoned). But the latest social worker had been there many years and raved about our agency. Then, three months later, she resigned with a brief note that didn't include the cheery happy "I thank you all for giving me the opportunity..." or what have you. She had also said to us, when we asked her directly, she had no plans to resign.
So what happened in the past three months? Did she learn something about the program or the agency that didn't sit well? Inquiring minds want to know, but will never find out, leaving conspiracy theories to flourish.
So I cried and cried and cried. And then for good measure I cried some more. These friends babies will be born and be months old before we travel. I have slowly recovered. I gotta admit it's hard though and feels like whiplash to have this stuff keep happening. I am now on guard against pregnancy announcements.
I feel like this blog is always a complete downer. I don't lead my life in a state of wallowing, but do allow myself to wallow here. Nevertheless, I'll punch it up in the next few days.