Chosen

One of the beautiful things about adopting is that we have an opportunity to say to our little ones, "WE CHOOSE YOU! Out of every child in the world, you have been chosen for us and we have chosen you!" There's something incredibly powerful about being chosen...

• Chosen for a dodge ball game
• Chosen to be hired for a job
  
• Chosen to be a part of a team
  
• Chosen to be someone's spouse
• Chosen to be God's child

The beautiful thing is that we are able to choose our Ethiopian babies because we have been chosen by a Mighty God to be a part of his family. THAT'S why adoption is more than a transfer of paperwork; it is a supernatural transfer in your soul!
A day will come (hopefully sooner than later!) that Brian and I will put this onesie on our little ones and speak into their soul, "I CHOOSE YOU...forever and ever!" Wow, this process is changing me.

Showing Up

One year ago today I furiously drove home from church to get news from Brian about our 3rd and final IUI cycle. It was our last medical shot at getting pregnant. I threw open our front door, butterflies flying in my belly, and ran back to find Brian. We met in the hallway. He didn't even say anything. I knew. It failed.

I collapsed to the ground in tears. Brian held me up and carried me to our bed. I don't even really remember the rest of that night. Unimaginable pain and loss. That was the worst day of my life to date. It felt like a piece of me died. And even one year later, tears are streaming down my face as I remember that moment.

Fast forward one year later and we are expectantly awaiting our referral for our 2 little ones. Our hearts have healed so much and we are full and grateful for our story. What a difference a year can make.

But what I wanted to write about today was what unfolded in the week after that devastating day. I took the week off work to grieve and rest (my body had been through so much treatment in a year). And people started showing up. I remember who showed up. My parents sent flowers. Angela showed up with homemade Korean food that she and her mom made. Daniel and Cassidy showed up on a night where I was going to be alone and brought dinner...and a bottle of wine. Ed showed up with Mexican food and sat with us for over an hour, validating our grief, sharing about Jesus' grief. Lisa showed up with the "Anne of Green Gables" series. Our small group showed up to love on us. So many others did, too, through phone calls, texts, emails, and hundreds of prayers.

I remember who showed up because it carried us through that week in ways I will never fully understand. I will be forever grateful to our friends and co-workers who showed up those days. Once again, thank you. It will make sharing our babies with you even more powerful, humbling, and overwhelming. We love you and are so grateful.

Exit Wounds

Today was another marker of healing and growth. I drove past the highway exit where I had all my infertility treatment. And I didn't want to burst in tears.

For 6+ months I made countless trips to our infertility doctor. Every time I exited 57N on Imperial Highway [actual picture], I was filled with some sort of emotion: fear, anxiety, hope, anticipation, curiosity. As I would approach this exit I could hardly believe this was a part of my story: receiving treatment from an infertility specialist so we could get pregnant. The old fashioned way of conceiving wasn't happening for us. We were healthy. We were young. We were watching all the signs and doing all the right things. And yet. I had to exit 57N at Lambert/Imperial Highway. Dozens of times. It seemed as if the wound only got bigger every time I exited to highway.

This drive wasn't just filled with emotion, it was filled with questions, pleas to God, worship music, silence, and holding hands with Brian.

Yet as I passed this infamous exit today, the wound wasn't nearly a big or raw or emotional. It still stung, but it was more like a scar than an open wound. I thought about more today about the healing a year brings. I thought about our 2 little ones in Ethiopia - likely our older was is born and the other is either a newborn or in utero. And I thought about the mysteries God's already revealed through our infertility. And the ones he's yet to reveal. And the mysteries he might never reveal in this life. I'm grateful and tender. 57N is no longer the exit wound it once was.