Hello Pandoren, I wish to offer another... perspective? I have loved my children madly since the beginning. I am ashamed to say that there was one point in my life where my depression was stronger even than the love I have for my children. In fact that love for them played into my depression. As in they would be better off without me.

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In that dark time there was no logic. I have seen the damage that has been caused by suicide, and yet in that dark time I was convinced that it would just be better for my children and everyone involved if I just wasn't here. I was SO angry when my husband realized how very depressed I was and called emergency services. I was waiting for him to go to work and I was going to kill myself that day. To this day I do not know what it was that clued him in. It was "a feeling" he had. I had a plan, and I thought I was being careful. Even a little cheery that day. In any event somehow he knew and made a very difficult phone call.

I am so grateful now for his insight. And now if I am even skirting the edge of that dark zone I run to the doctor because that experience.

I do not recall what my ideas of what I wanted from a family were when I was young. Each has been replaced by the perfection that is each of my children, including my foster children. I do recall being fearful when I was expecting my second child. I loved my first child so much I could not imagine being able to love anyone else that much. Or would my first (male) loose some of my love because my second was a girl? When I held her before her umbilical cord was even cut, I loved her just as much. And a few minutes later when my son crawled up onto my hospital bed as I was snuggling my newborn, I felt complete. I did not remember a time without either of them. Then I went and threw two more into the mix :-) and then a couple of "strays". I mean no disrespect when I say strays. They were just kids with a bad home environment that stayed to spend the night and never left.

A couple of months ago, my foster daughter and I were trying to determine exactly when she moved in. She remembered it being in the third grade. I knew she was here most of the time and included in all of the family activities (vacations etc) but I did not recall her actually "moving" until she was in Jr. High. I was suprised to discover that her father actually moved out of this area for a couple of years when she was in elementary school. My only contact with him was to get him to sign a release so that I we could seek medical care for her.

My opinion is that adoption is no different from giving birth. You get what you get and you LOVE it. Your heart claims that child.

So I guess what I'm telling you is that your mind may be filled with dreams of these unknown children that you have already named but when the time comes the slate will be wiped clean and you will have the child/(ren) you were meant to have.

Let me tell you a funny story about children's names. None of my children have the names that I always thought I would name my kids. I was POSITIVE my oldest was a girl, so I only had girl names picked out. I made dolls and girl clothes. I was SO sure that I said my husband could name the baby if he was a boy. He had two names picked out. Jack Daniel (alcohol) and Richard Thomas (after our fathers). I HATED them both. I cannot tell you how much I hated the name Richard! Our oldest came early so he could not be there for his birth. So I decided I would let him pick the name, hoping that he would change his mind. I did absolutely veto Jack Daniel, so Richard it was. I did have the caveat that if anyone ever called him **** I would punch my husband in the face.

With our second I had an ultra sound and knew I was having a girl. As my due date approached and my family asked what name I had picked out. My first choice was my Great-grandmother's name. She put the kibosh to that. She apparently hated her name and said she would never speak to me again if I "saddled her with that!" My second choice was the name I'd always choosen when I played house. The name I'd given my dolls. Apparently I had had a "crazy" Aunt by that name (who btw died before I was even born) so that name was out. Hubby ended up naming her as well.

With my twins, all throughout my pregnancy baby B was supposed to be a girl. I had names picked out and this time by God I was going to name my own children! Well, God has a sense of humor and Baby B was a boy! So Baby A was given the name I'd picked out but I had no clue what to name baby B. It was a rough delivery and I had a C-section for the first time so I was wiped out. The nurses were becoming very annoyed that Baby B had no official name. I just called him (and still do to this day) Peanut because he was the runt. I was leaving the next day, and one particular nurse was really nagging me. You have to name this baby, you have to name this baby! The TV was on, although the volume was off, some show had just ended. Baby A was named Matthew Mark after his uncle. The name Andrew appeared on the screen on the credits. They had been born on my grandfather's birthday so baby B had a name! This did not please the nagging nurse, as she felt Baby A should be Andrew. And now that I think about it, it was my husband that pointed out that Peanut's middle name should be that of my grandfather's (it was also his grandfather's name)! So my husband named 3 out of four of our children!!!!