When I Think...

Today I spent a day of solitude at my favorite beach. Although it was cold, cloudy, and foggy (yes, in July), it was good for my soul. I felt at peace, at rest. It was well with my soul. I spent a fair amount of time contemplating the state of my soul regarding our adoption and processing some newer things with God. Among those newer things was thinking about when THE CALL comes...

Tonight, I've been reading some of my favorite Ethiopian adoption blogs, and came across this blog from another family adopting 2 little Ethiopians from our agency. She recently posted on "waiting" and I cried while reading the entire post!! Here are a couple excerpts...

i think of our children often. i wonder what they look like. how old they are. if they are still with their birth mother or already in an orphanage. if they have enough to eat. if they have enough love and cuddles and kisses. it is very strange to dwell on someone that you know nothing about, and yet that is really the beauty about all of this: i love my children, and i know nothing about them. my heart just feels bound to them in a way i can't really explain. i know, it's weird.

I have thought, felt, and wondered all those things...a hundred times over the past year. One of the things us adoptive parents have in common is this inexplicable love for children that we've never met and don't look like us. My heart has been bound to those children for the past 16 months. It is weird AND supernatural.

it often seems very unreal that at the end of however much waiting we will endure, there will actually be two little ones who will call us mommy and daddy. i think this is the one thing i envy about pregnant women. i'm sure it's still unreal to think that a baby will leave your womb and suddenly be yours to care for. but at least for those 9 months, your baby is inside of you, and you are affirmed everyday that this is real. and people around you affirm you too by commenting on how cute your baby bump is or asking about your due date or guessing whether the baby will have your eyes.

i guess what i realize is that many people still don't know how to talk about adoption as if it were equal to being pregnant. no, i don't want people to say they are the same because they aren't. but they are both equally valuable ways of becoming a parent. people can ask a pregnant woman a million questions about what it feels like to have a baby inside or what she thinks of public breastfeeding or if she'll deliver her baby naturally. but seriously, the minute an adoptive mom starts talking about attachment or racism or how there are 147 million orphans in the world...people really have no clue how to handle that.

i guess what i realize is that many people still don't know how to talk about adoption as if it were equal to being pregnant. no, i don't want people to say they are the same because they aren't. but they are both equally valuable ways of becoming a parent. people can ask a pregnant woman a million questions about what it feels like to have a baby inside or what she thinks of public breastfeeding or if she'll deliver her baby naturally. but seriously, the minute an adoptive mom starts talking about attachment or racism or how there are 147 million orphans in the world...people really have no clue how to handle that.if you're an adoptive parent, there are many people like me who understand the funk of the wait. i know that so much of the affirmation you have of your children is the feeling you have deep in your soul. and i know that people really don't get that or don't know how to engage that because we live in a society where pregnancy is normal, and adoption is...well, not as normal. i don't say any of this to disparage pregnancy because hey, i plan to at least try to be pregnant one day. i just pray that some day people can truly walk alongside one another in journeying to their children, appreciating the beauty and joy and validity of both pregnancy and adoption. and if you're not an adoptive parent, find an adoptive family to affirm today!

Oh, the tears on this post. My dear friend, Alicia, is about to burst with her first son later this month, and she sent me an amazing message today affirming me. She gets that the wait is hard and that I've seen so many pregnancies come and go over the past few years. She knows that I've seen bellies turn into babies who've turned into toddlers. She spoke into a deep part of me that's longed, ached, mourned, and hoped throughout this journey.

Thanks to my friends along the way who've blessed, affirmed, supported, and loved us through this journey. I will continue to wait. In the words of friend, Margaret Feinberg,

God invites us to place the weight of the wait on him.
He does not want us to wait alone, but rather wait on him alone.

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.

A Lament

One of the deals I've made with God about my pain [like that actually works anyway!] is that I will use it for good. I will learn from it. And I will share what I'm learning with others so that it might be redeemed. The following passage from Lamentations also reminds me not to forget and where I need to place my hope...

Lamentations 3:20-26, 32-33, 40, 55- 57

²⁰ I will never forget this awful time,
as I grieve over my loss.
²¹ Yet I still dare to hope
when I remember this:

²² The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
His mercies never cease.
²³ Great is his faithfulness;
his mercies begin afresh each morning.
²⁴ I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance;
therefore, I will hope in him!”

²⁵ The Lord is good to those who depend on him,
to those who search for him.
²⁶ So it is good to wait quietly
for salvation from the Lord.
³² Though he brings grief, he also shows compassion
because of the greatness of his unfailing love.
³³ For he does not enjoy hurting people
or causing them sorrow.
⁴⁰ ... let us test and examine our ways.
Let us turn back to the Lord.
⁵⁵ ... I called on your name, Lord,
⁵⁶ You heard me when I cried, “Listen to my pleading!
Hear my cry for help!”
⁵⁷ Yes, you came when I called;
you told me, “Do not fear.”

**Thanks Kim for sharing!