to ask or not to ask [adoption waiting]

Many of our family members and friends have commented in conversation about if or how they should ask us about our adoption process.  We greatly appreciate that people are being sensitive as this has been and continues to be a difficult time for us as we wait and experience the many emotional highs and lows.  We always want to be open and honest about all the aspects of our process, and so I thought I would try to share my feelings a little more here.

We are at all times willing to talk about our adoption process.  I love sharing our story, even if sometimes on the hard days I forget that.  One thing that makes this hard for both us and those who are asking is that oftentimes our answers aren't very informative, or rather, we have no answers at all.  This is because we simply have no new news to share.  And because of how quickly news can change (as we are well-aware), we are practicing some self-preservation by not notifying others of profiling calls until after we have heard back that we have not been chosen.  It's easier to do this because we have so many people in our lives to share the news with, but it's too hard to get others excited and then have to re-contact everyone to share our disappointment.  We know that most everyone is willing to ride these ups and downs with us and support us through them, but we are trying to manage our own expectations when we get these calls, therefore it's easier to just fill everyone in afterwards.  If you are ever wondering what has been happening lately, you can always check our adoption timeline.

There are also some well-meaning comments that we receive often which actually do bother me.  I've found that with most I'm not easily offended and will happily inform, educate, or answer.  Very few have upset me but with those that do, I'm learning to practice grace.  Some days I fail at that.  It's true that right now we are feeling kind of "over it" in terms of our journey as a whole.  If you want to ask about the process, by all means please do.  Just be prepared that I am gong to be honest about how we are feeling at that time.  No, I will most likely not become a huge ball of tears, anxiety, and emotion (although this has happened...), but please know that we are not going to sugar-coat the difficult aspects of the process.

Here are some of the frustrating comments we hear most often:

• "It's ok, you have lots of time" or "You're so young!" : Anything along the lines about how young we are really rubs me the wrong way.  While I am more sensitive to the topic because I am often mistaken to be anywhere from 9-14 years younger than I actually am, I ask that you hear me out on this.  Yes, I understand that we are a couple of 27 year olds (and in my case a trying-not-to-think-about-it-almost-28-year-old) and that in our culture today it is more common for people to wait longer to have kids, etc.  But in our case, we always wanted to be young parents.  My parents had their children all before my mom was 30, and we also have many other family members and friends who have or are having their children in their mid-20's.  We always wanted to start the process of growing our family after being married for 2 years, and that is what we did.  To me, yes I am young in general, but I do not feel young in respect to how I pictured our family at our age now.  While this is something that I am continually working on by letting my plans go and allowing God's to be, I still encourage those who have said or thought this to put themselves in our shoes.  Think back to when you started to work toward growing your family and when you felt that was best for yourself.  You may have been younger or older than us, but the jist is that it was what you felt was best for you and this is what we feel is best for us.  So while we may be young to some, it is what we wanted, and it's hard to watch the time stretch by.  Again, think back to when you were trying to get pregnant and maybe it took longer than you expected.  Those days, weeks, and months of waiting is exactly how we are feeling too.  Solidifying the difficulty is the fact that we can't "just get pregnant" and try adoption later.  This is the way that we can grow our family, and the way that we have fully embraced.

• "Are you sure your agency is doing everything they can for you?" or "The system is messed up!" : Ok, this could go in a million directions and probably be its own post, but I will keep it simple: we have the utmost confidence that our agency is doing everything they can.  They are well-established, have an amazing track record, and offer more services and education for both birth families and adoptive families than many other agencies (which is very important to us).  No agency is perfect, but so much of the process is out of both our hands and their hands.  We are being profiled a lot more than many other families (because of how open our grids are), and since we have done everything we can in our control, the agency is able to do what they can for us by profiling us with cases that they know we are open to.  After that, no one except the prospective birthmom and God can control what happens from there.  They can not, nor should they, influence the choice that the prospective birthmother makes because she is the one who needs to feel confident in the family she is considering for her child.  Not to mention, I get the feeling that our agency is also wondering why our journey is taking longer than the average, but this again comes back to the fact that none of us can know or understand because it's ultimately up to God.

• And for those who may wonder about our limitations or are just curious, here's a refresher : We are open to either gender, any and all races and ethnicities, and any state within the U.S.  The health history/exposures grid is a lot more complicated, but we are open to considering a lot.  We have asked for advice from our agency, and we are going to update a few details in our profile book (such as Colin's job change), even though they feel that our profile is a great representation of us and our life.  There are no easy answers or fixes and along with us, our agency feels like we have done well with what we can, and that unfortunately it is what it is.

The good news is that we have been profiled a lot.  While it's emotional and difficult because this stacks up to more no's, it's also encouraging knowing that we have had more chances.  The fact that we have been getting calls and had recent opportunities is better than waiting for months with nothing.  And I think it's God's reminder that no matter what happens or how many opportunities we receive, He is the only one to know what baby (and hopefully, babies) we will have the privilege of raising.  Since He already knows, we have to rest assured in that, even when it takes every ounce of our strength.  

in the valley

Sunday night, I found myself sitting in the rocker in our fully-stocked nursery, my Bible in one hand, tissues in the other, crying and trying to pray.  "Not for a Moment (After All)" by Meredith Andrews, a song we had sang in church just that morning (one that makes me cry every.single.time it plays on the radio or in church) ran through my head, and once again I tried to hold on to the truth in its words.  I had been triggered and hit with an onslaught of emotions that never seem to be too far away, and this time I chose to cry them out in the one room of our house that sits closed up and unused.

I hate to admit it, but more recently I've found myself wanting to give up, over this adoption process.  The days and weeks and months have passed, with the magical "time" of us becoming parents a continued mystery.  When I looked through our adoption profile book a few weeks ago after printing a copy to display at our garage sale, I realized just how much has changed since we created it last year.  Our nieces and friends' kids and babies are so much older, our community group through church has changed a couple times, we've re-arranged rooms and made updates to the house and yard.  Our positions and jobs have changed, our ages, our routines.  It feels so long ago, and yet in this one area of our lives, we haven't moved.  However, we have changed immensely, experienced a new kind of pain, longing, and loss.  We've been reminded of the good and bad that have brought us here, how life just isn't fair, and The One who carries us through.  We've grown in our faith and closer to each other.

I looked around the bright room, at the adorable animals, soft blankets, and board books.  As much as I try not to, I wonder if this room and everything in it will ever get the chance to be used and loved.  I notice the chalk board that I wrote on a few weeks ago when I was struggling, "Little L, come home soon.  Mommy misses you."  I do, I miss him or her with all my heart and yet know nothing about that precious life yet.

  

We've had to make some really hard decisions lately, ones that I don't feel we have the right to make.  Every time we do finally get a profiling opportunity, it's more difficult than the last.  There isn't as much anticipation, merely a self-preservation that allows a few thoughts of, "If this were to be...." but mostly waits to hear that it's not our time.  It's simply, hard.  And even though I hold it together quite well, we both function normally and go through each day without breaking down or causing a fuss, we have fun together, we make plans, we laugh and enjoy life, for me, in the midst of this journey, there are still a million tiny thoughts of longing that cross my mind each day.

In the dark after climbing into bed, Colin asked me how I was doing.  He wondered if I would be able to sleep and held me as I spoke some of my newest fears to him.  When I spoke of wanting to give up, knowing full-well that my practical side won't let me because of all that we've invested in the process thus far (not to mention we have already renewed and are set for another year), instead of telling me that I couldn't, like he did all those months ago when our hearts were broken, he simply spoke of his love for me no matter what happens.  And that's when I realized that my laid-back husband was also experiencing frustration, sadness, anger, and doubt.  

We are both in a valley, one of the many that comes with this journey.  But in order for valleys to exist, there must be mountains.  And even though the climb may be tough, the view at the top is always worth it.  On my hardest days, in the moments when we want to give up, when I want nothing more than to jump in a car and go on a permanent vacation from it all, I know that no matter how much I doubt and question and struggle to believe that the view exists, God has seen that view.  He knows exactly where we will be tomorrow, next month, next year, and forever.  He has a plan, which is most likely different than our own, but which is perfect and purposeful.  It terrifies me and thrills me.  But I know that I am here on this earth to love God and love others, to bring glory to Him.  And if I must struggle in order to do so, then so be it.  I am here to please Him and if our story brings even one person closer to His love and grace, then it is worth it.  He knows exactly where we are, and we must rest in that truth.

So no, we are not giving up.  We are trusting that God has a child in mind for us, that our calling to adopt is still true even though it feels like doors have closed, that we will be parents someday.  That Colin's childhood desire to "be a dad" will be fulfilled.  That our hearts and arms will be full, with whomever God calls us to love, child or not.

Mother's Day 2014

Mother's Day was hard for me this year.  Last year we were in the adoption process, but I just didn't have the emotions that I did this year.  With the failed matches, which bring up infertility pain as well, and the fact that we are nearing renewal, it was a little tough.  However, we did have a great day celebrating our moms.  We went to church and then brunch with my in-laws, then enjoyed a nice walk outside on the river with Col's fam and Mendon.  I spent a lot of time reading and relaxing that afternoon, and then we went to Batavia and took my parents out for ice cream.  We are blessed to be able to celebrate with both of our moms.

I was also blessed immensely by three friends' sweet, heartfelt texts and messages about how I deserve to be recognized today, that the honor and title includes me as a mom waiting for my baby to be in my arms, etc.  It was so nice to know that amidst their Mother's Days, with their own little ones or little ones-to-be to celebrate, they were thinking of me and how the day was hard for me.  I am so grateful for the people that God has placed in my life to show me His love.  And I also read this in a blog and love this line: This year I have been able to accept that I am a Mother, but not YET a Parent.  Yes, that is true.  I make decisions for our future child, pray for him/her, and love him/her.  I am a mother, but not yet a parent.

in the thick of it

Friends it's time for an adoption update.  Because I'm struggling, and I need to write.  So no, unfortunately this will not be a happy update.

We had another profiling opportunity this month, and it was a twin case.  I was SO excited!  My mom always joked with us that we would get twins.  And I was thinking how maybe then we could go through this process once and be done.  Which is quite appealing right now (and financially much more do-able).  We once again tried not to get our hopes up, but honestly every single day the opportunity was on my mind and it's hard not to picture.  These last two weeks felt like an eternity as we waited to hear.  We got the call today that we were not chosen.

This coming after receiving a letter in the mail yesterday about our home study expiring in 90 days.  I knew it was coming, but since we don't expire until the end of July, I figured I had some time before freaking out (and was trying not to think about it yet so that said freak out wouldn't ensue earlier than necessary).  What I didn't realize is that we have to re-do everything, not just the social worker's visit, but our doctor's visits, etc.  We had already gotten a few things in the mail and updated them, so I assumed all the paperwork would be done that way, and then we could just worry about the home study in July.  I forgot that home study also means the paperwork.  And so, in order to have enough time to do it all so that we don't have a lapse, we need to start now.  Not only that but before we can be sent the paperwork to be done, we have to pay the home study renewal fee of $950.  And we have to renew our enrollment in the program, which is an annual fee of $600.  We are still trying to save enough money for if and when a placement occurs.

And so last night found me in a bad mood.  Wanting to give up.  Wishing things were different.  Missing babies who we got to name and for a few days got to rejoice in soon being home with us.  Wondering why with our open grids we still haven't had a placement.  Very much regretting that our home study social worker told us it would be quick (because even when you take comments like that with a grain of salt, you can't help but believe that the professional opinion is true).  Wondering why opening up to out of state has done nothing.  And once again stressing about finances and wishing that money, which shouldn't be an issue in finding homes for kids, wasn't a part of it.

Friends and family are having babies, enjoying time with mommy friends, and I feel like we are sitting on the sidelines not moving forward as those babies grow into toddlers and new babies come on the scene.  Who will our babies grow up with?  And I hate questioning our all-knowing, loving God, but I can't help but wonder why.  I hate feeling this way, my frustration taking over the hope that I had.  Deep down I know the process works, I've talked with and seen those families.  I know it's all in God's timing, that His will and plan are perfect, that we are young, that our families will help us with expenses, that everything happens for a reason.  But even so, I struggle.  And those who have been here know just how much of a struggle it is.  And for me, going through the adoption process also brings up all those wonderful emotions surrounding infertility too. 

Thank God we are doing this in His strength, because this girl's strength is fading fast.  Please pray for us as we find the fortitude to write the check, re-do doctor's appointments, paperwork, and later in July, social worker's visits.  And for our wait, oh the wait.  Thank you, we love and appreciate you all, without God and our support system we would be nothing.

As for you, Little L, may you come into our lives soon.  We are praying for you.

adoption update : the words I can say

Consider this as me "talking about it."  Because even though this is public and not a personalized one-on-one conversation, this is the best I can and want to do right now.  It's just easier to tell everyone "all at once" instead of re-telling it over and over.

Wednesday 2/12 at 5p I was leaving work when Colin called.  He said, "Happy Valentine's Day, oh wait, that's Friday right?  Well, Happy early Valentine's Day to us!  We were blind profiled and she chose us.  The baby is due Friday!  I'll tell you everything when you get home.  Drive safe, love you!"

After months of hearing nothing, we were profiled without even knowing about it (hence the term, blind.  Basically it means that instead of calling us with the case first, they send out profiles and then inform you afterwards).  Not only that, but she had picked us!  What a wonderful feeling to hear that all at once!  I got home, and Col told me everything.  So many things lined up. 

The baby was a boy.  Many had asked me if we would use our girl name again and without a doubt we plan to.  I have loved that name since college and there is no way I can let it go that easily.  Plus, the child who we had been matched with in October does not carry it, so why not?  However, I had told everyone that I now hope our first adoption is a boy so that I can put some space and time between the failed match and name. 

The birthmom had felt drawn to our profile so much that as she looked through others she kept coming back to ours and the thing that finalized her decision was that she had been thinking of the name Zack for the baby, and since my brother's name is Zack, she took that as another connection.  She lives in NYC, and I felt like since opening up to out of state we were saying we were willing to travel, therefore it felt like God was saying, "Ok, here you go!" (even though NYC was always an option). 

We chose (didn't take much!) to accept the case and called our parents and siblings.  We decided this time that even though we were very excited and it was hard to keep the information in, we wanted to wait to tell everyone else once everything happened, once the papers were signed and we had the baby in our arms, because we knew much more this time around how quickly things can change.  The next day I called the agency, and they said they would be in touch.  We told our employers and tried to stay calm and be productive at work.  Thursday afternoon we had an update that they could not get a hold of her and that she was in the hospital.  She had false labor a month ago, so they weren't sure if she was in active labor or not.  Time passed, and Friday morning we hadn't heard anything.  I was getting extremely anxious and decided to call the agency to check in.  Unfortunately, they hadn't heard anything but would leave another message with the NYC social worker.  Because birthmom was in the hospital and no one had a direct way to contact her, the social worker there was having to call the hospital and leave a message with them.  The hospital in turn could only tell her so much due to privacy laws, and so we just had to wait.  We left work Friday evening with only this news: the hospital confirmed that it was active labor and that she had relatives come visit her.  The agency said they would call us over the weekend as soon as they heard anything, but that if not, they would touch base later.

As I'm sure you can tell where this is going, we (and the agency) never heard back from her.  We had to just come to terms with the fact that we have once again had a failed match.  That is two adoption miscarriages that we have been through, and I'm not sure how many more I can take (well, I just don't want to have to deal with any more).  The sad part is, how will I be able to be excited someday when we are matched again?  All I'll be thinking about is that they've failed before, and the next one can just as easily.

Right now, I wonder how any adoptions ever happen or work at all. 
(It's true - take a minute to truly think about how hard it is for birthparents to make an adoption plan for their babies.  To have so much love for another human being that you choose to go through 9 months of pregnancy, painful labor and delivery, and immense heartache as you give them to another family so that they can have a different life.  I don't think I could ever be so brave.)
Right now, I'm trying so hard to trust and hope.
Right now, I'm fighting my bitterness, questioning, and "why us?" attitude.
Right now, I'm thankful that I have my faith and my Lord standing beside me, because even so I'm struggling.

Somewhere out there, is a 4 month old baby girl that I love.
Somewhere out there, is a newborn baby boy that I love.
Somewhere out there, someday, will be a baby that we will get to love in our lives forever.

But right now, I don't want to hear it.  I know it, deep down, I remind myself of it, I listen as family and friends reassure me of it, but I'm tired.  I'm tired of this roller coaster of emotions that always seems to crash at the end.  I'm tired of being "strong," of having more heartache piled on.  I just want to adopt.

But we know, adoption isn't easy.  Even when it works, it's not easy.  And it's lifelong, and we have to get used to that.  I just wish, that something, for once, would work for us with the whole having-children-thing.  Because we are surrounded by the most fertile people I know, who get pregnant on the first try or without trying, and even though I absolutely want to adopt and picture that for our family, can it just happen already?!  Why must we agonize and wait for a child?

As we lay in bed the other night, my husband said to me, "You know how you said you don't know how many more you can take?  Well, you can't give up.  You can be sad, but you can't give up.  Because if you do, we'll never have children."  And so, in the wise words of my strong hubby, we aren't giving up.  But we are weary and wary as we move forward once more.

I ask for your prayers.  Pray for peace, for comfort, for hope and faith.  Pray for our wait, as we once again embark on it.

adoption update attempt

Hi everyone.  Miss me?  It's been a while, hasn't it.  For a month I've thought about how I should blog an update for everyone on our adoption.  This draft has sat here for countless weeks.  Because it's hard to write an update when there isn't one.  We are just...waiting.

Even before we started our own adoption journey, when it was just a far-away, extremely overwhelming thought in my mind, I read many other blogs about adoption and felt encouraged.  In addition to keeping family and friends up on our journey, I have wanted to be an encourager to others through their infertility and/or adoption journeys, even if just to say, "Someone else knows how you feel," or, "We've done it, you can too!"  But in order to do so, I know that I owe it to myself to be candid and honest.

And so, honestly, I've been in a funk lately.  I've been passing through the stages of grief from our failed placement differently than other grieving events in my life.  This one seems to be lingering, very much present in the day to day.  For the first month after our failed placement, we let ourselves go just a little and ate like crap.  Takeout, sweets, and junk food were staples.  And we didn't care (who doesn't want an excuse to do that every once in a while?).  We gave ourselves that month, which ended up stretching into a month and a half, to ease up on one area of our lives.

My birthday was especially hard this year.  I am usually excited about birthdays, even just a little as I get older, but this year didn't feel right.  Because I am a planner at heart, I of course have a timeline in my head about what stage of life I want to be at or have accomplished by a certain age.  I've always wanted to be young when having children, much like my parents were.  For many reasons, it is my ideal.  And as much as I know that I need to let go of my plans and timeline and give them to God, it's still hard.  And so, as I turned 27 and have no children or the promise of any soon, I had to grieve that.  I am so thankful for being able to have dinner with Col and my parents that evening, but the whole day just seemed like any other day (or maybe I was trying to hope it into that).

While I appreciate everyone's well wishes of "you're so young," it doesn't change the fact that this is a dream of mine that I must let go of, timeline-wise.  I know we are young to many, but no one would say that to someone who is pregnant at 25 because that is when they want to be.  You see, we've had to give up on some dreams and grieve doors that were closed to us.  Being re-directed is not always easy.  Even as I write this though, I am reminded of the fact that as much as we plan, life will happen according to God's will and timing.  I felt the same way about getting married; it was later than I had always planned on.  But we got married, it was the best day of my life, and I have felt no recourse whatsoever from it being a couple years later than my timeline.  And, when I always planned on having children by the age of 30, I always had pregnancies in mind.  Now, I know with all my heart that adoption is the plan God has for us to grow our family, even on the days when I wish it wasn't.

So I've been a little down lately.
Do I know that in the end, this will all be worth it?  Yes.
Do I believe that we are on the right path?  Yes.
Do I believe that it will happen?  Yes.
Do I trust God with this piece of our lives?  Yes (it's ok that it's a work-in-progress faith building exercise - for life!)

But is it hard some days, and I just need to cry?  Yes.
Do I wish it would just hurry up and happen already?  Yes.
Am I still unbelievably in love with our full, finished nursery and can't wait for a little babe to use it?  Yes.

That's where we are at.  Loving each other as always, living life, and enjoying the little things (and the Christmas season!).  There are others who have gone before, and there are others who will come after.  I'm thankful to know others on the journey who understand these crazy emotions!

And you know what?  I'm thankful that I have a pup to be the recipient of all my bursting motherly love right now.  I don't think she minds it one bit ;)

[adoption] not for the faint of heart

There is a common phrase often repeated in the adoption community: Adoption is not for the faint of heart.  While I have heard it often, I never fully grasped it's significance because up until recently, our adoption process has been fairly easy.  The paperwork was less than I thought, and we were able to systematically work through it along with the countless appointments and classes (which we loved).  Our wait was also extremely short, as over the course of less than 2 months we had four referrals and were chosen by a birthmom.

Everything was falling into place.  So many factors about our match seemed too perfect to be anything other than God's doing.  However, even in the midst of our most joyous excitement, we are sometimes too short-sighted to see that we are still on the journey.  We haven't reached our destination yet.

Wednesday evening (10/16), I arrived home to find Col out front with Mendon.  I asked if he had called our agency to see if they had an update about birthmom's c-section date.  She had had a doctor's appointment the Friday before to check the baby's lung development and so we were waiting to hear what date they would choose from the results.  When Col called they hadn't heard anything yet, but her appointment with the doctor had been that afternoon.  Our family advocate said she would call as soon as she got any updates.  About 10 minutes before I got home, she had called Col back.

He excitedly told me that the c-section was scheduled for the next day (Thursday, 10/17).  I honestly and seriously did not believe him.  Here he was, jumping up and down, grinning widely, and exclaiming aloud that we almost had a baby.  It finally sunk in enough that we were both happily hugging and heard a voice from over the bushes from a neighbor say, "Whatever it is, congratulations!"  I couldn't believe it!  It was a few weeks earlier than we thought, but we were overjoyed.

We called our parents to deliver the news.  Then we called our bosses quickly since we would be out on leave immediately.  I had only trained my replacement for a week and a half but thankfully am blessed with amazing supervisors who were just as excited as we were.  The plan was to drive to Buffalo in the morning, sign all the paperwork, and afterwards head out to the hospital in Syracuse to be with and care for the baby.

That night we ran around trying to figure out what we needed to do.  We packed a few days worth of things, packed a diaper bag, installed the car seat, and packed up Mendon's things so that she could go to my in-laws.  I did my first load of baby laundry and attempted to organize a few things in the nursery.  All evening I had a slight pain in my chest, as I attempted to get my planner-self on board with this new, very soon due date!  We actually were able to sleep that night, although I woke a few times.

Thursday morning we went to the bank as soon as they opened.  We got a certified check for our placement fee, and the teller asked us if we were getting a baby.  We told her that yes, we were going there today to meet him or her.  It was all so surreal and yet seemed so normal.  We drove to Buffalo and soon after sitting down with our advocate learned that the baby had been born at 10:04a.  It was a girl!  She had just enough time before we got there (around 10:30a) to change all the paperwork to have our chosen girl name on it.  We also learned that we would not be able to go to Syracuse until the next day, as the hospital policy needed a signed paper by birthmom allowing us to be there caring for the baby.  Since the birth had been via c-section, they needed to wait until the next day so that all anesthesia was out of her system.  We were disappointed, but overjoyed that she had been born.  

We signed all of the paperwork, received a wonderful gift bag, a hug from our advocate, and drove back home.  It was a little anti-climactic since we were expecting to drive out that day, but nonetheless allowed us to get a lot done that evening.  We organized the nursery, did more laundry, packed a few more things as discharge was scheduled for Monday, told more family and friends, made plans to stay with friends in the area for the weekend, set up a pediatrician appointment, called our lawyer, and figured out health insurance.  We also had a celebratory dinner out with Col's parents, sister, bro-in-law, and our nieces, and bought a gift for birthmom.  Once again, we somehow slept well that night.

Soon after waking up Friday morning we got a call from the agency.  We were waiting to hear what time we could go out to the hospital, and I got out of bed to go listen as Col took the call in the kitchen.  When I came out, he shook his head at me.  After he hung up he said that birthmom was thinking about parenting.  She was working through things with her social worker, but in the agency's professional opinion, it seemed as though she would choose to parent the baby.  They would call us later that day to update us.  I immediately got upset and we tearfully sent texts to our parents to pray.  After a while, we decided that we couldn't sit around all day and wait, and so we escaped to Mendon Ponds park with Mendon in tow.  Near the end of our walk, the agency called again and confirmed that birthmom had decided to parent.

I felt like everything was over, like our whole process was coming to an abrupt end.  Financially everything we had, along with many others' generous donations, had gone into this.  We had never gotten to meet that sweet baby girl who almost had our name.  In no way able to talk, we sent texts to our parents and siblings to break the news.  Once home, Col made a few difficult phone calls cancelling our first pediatrician appointment for Tuesday, notifying our attorney, and then calling the agency again to hear about next steps.  All the calls, emails, and texts we had made just the day before were now sent out again, but with opposite news.

My parents came up that night and took us to dinner.  I was in a fog all day; I felt like my head was disconnected from my body and my vision was off.  Once again it was surreal.  I just couldn't fathom how we were in the 1%.  We had been told that at our agency, only about 1% of matches are disrupted due to the comprehensive counseling and resources offered to birthparents.  How, after everything we had been through to get us to this point, could we be that 1%?  I reminded myself though that many of the families pursuing adoption have also been through infertility, so this would be a double blow to anyone, not just us.  We vowed to continue to live our lives, to keep busy, and to remember that it is not over.  We are not done.

Saturday I had a hard time getting out of bed, but I did and we conquered things on our perpetual to-do list.  Col went and got the new tires for my car that it desperately needed and then we completely hauled out the two storage closets in our lower level, getting rid of a ton and re-organizing.  We received sympathies and greatly appreciated the support system that we have in all of our family, friends, and workplaces, but with nothing to say, we tucked them away in our hearts and kept on working.  We spoiled Mendon with walks and lots of love and spoiled ourselves by not cooking all weekend.  We watched Friends, went to bed early, and slept a lot.

Sunday we went to church, took a two hour walk along the river trail with Col's fam and Mendon, and spent the day watching football with family and a visit from friends.  Each day brought about more perspective, and we were able to talk about our next steps.  Thankfully, our agency is compassionate and understanding and has been supportive in whatever way we need.  Most of our fees will be returned/used toward our next match/placement.  Colin has been extremely loving and supportive, and our marriage is strengthened.  No matter how much we've been through, each new hardship or experience brings us closer and closer.  While we cope differently and grieve at different speeds, we were on the same page for so much of this.  And since I'm the one who takes longer to work through things, he has graciously shown me support for whenever I am ready to continue and begin to be profiled once more.

I would be lying if I said that I was not still sad.  While it is absolutely 100% birthmom's right to parent her child, it is still extremely heartbreaking for us.  However, we never had nor have any anger toward her.  I still see her as the sweet, shy person we met just a few weeks ago.  And while so many details of our match seemed so perfect, this child was not God's plan for our family.  But this part of the story is somehow.  And so, I still stand true to my word to tell our story, for if we can get through it, someone else has already and someone else will.  God has held us up, given us hope, and sees the outcome.  And while my heart may be faint at times, His never is! 

[via pinterest]

[learning to] gain patience

I've been riding the rollercoaster of emotions lately.  Not bad, just beginning to really experience all these swirling emotions that come along with waiting for Little L.  Ahh, Little L.  I can't wait to hold you in my arms.

I had an unfortunate doctor's appointment, where I had to once again speak to why I'm not on birth control.  Yes, I've dealt with it.  And yes, I can easily talk about it.  But no, I don't really want to have to say it again and again every single time I come in.

We get over that checkpoint and things are fine until the end of my appointment when the doctor starts waxing poetic about our other option for having children (after asking if I even want any).  Fine, give me all the options (I do know them, we did think just a little bit about our decision to adopt thankyouverymuch).  However, when I've already told you that we chose adoption, are very happy with our choice and believe it's the best option for us, have finished all our paperwork, and are now waiting to be chosen for a baby, do not keep going on and on about the other option that you obviously prefer.  When I've already told you that essentially I am "paper pregnant," loving an unknown child in my heart, please just say, "Congratulations," or, "That's great!"  Anything to affirm what I've already told you is done (and which I'm very happy about!).  Ugh.

After it had all sunk in (I was polite and conversational until I had the chance to replay the conversation in my mind) and I was leaving the appointment, I just wanted to go home.  Unfortunately, I was upset that evening because of it.  I recently read a blog post about negative, or un-helpful, responses that people have gotten in response to telling that they are adopting.  I guess this was my first!

Also, my patience has been running low these days.  Not with waiting, I'm doing pretty well with that, but with everything else.  I decided that all my patience is being put into waiting and that this is a lesson in gaining even more!  Lesson #1 (out of an infinite number of others): Patience.

 

James 1:2-8
² Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, ³ because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. ⁴ Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. ⁵ If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.

 

Proverbs 19:11
¹¹ A person’s wisdom yields patience;
it is to one’s glory to overlook an offense.

pieces to the puzzle

Friday we heard some unsettling news about the last step of our home buying process.  The grant from the federal program that we went through as first time home buyers was denied.  Unable to do this on our own right now, this grant is the whole reason for going through the program, as they match $4 to every $1 we saved this past year up to a certain amount.  The full grant is quite substantial and makes closing possible.  Fortunately, the bank disagrees with their reasons for the denial, and therefore broke down the information and sent the appeal back with documentation.  They said not to worry, and that they hope to hear back from them by Wednesday, but that we can't do anything about pushing it because it's a government program.

You can only imagine everything that went through our minds.  Not only that, but Col received a call from the tenant that our landlord just found this past week to rent our apartment, wondering when we would be leaving since our landlord mentioned it might be mid-January.  After a couple months of possible tenants falling through, one was just finalized this week.

So not only were we seeing visions of not getting our house at the last possible second because of this grant, but also of having to move in with Colin's parents and search for a new apartment instead of getting to stay where we already are.  And with the possible outcome of this situation, it's easy to think of all the other plans we have for ourselves having to be postponed indefinitely.

This home buying process has been more difficult than I thought it would be.  We've already made it through many stresses the past couple of months with various issues, and have waited longer than many for a closing date, but we never anticipated this one, being as we were approved for the program back in December 2011.

The past couple of days have been a little emotional for me in other ways too.  There are times when the weight of our infertility decides to rest on me for a while.  Don't get me wrong, it's so much easier for me than it was a couple years ago, but it's something that has a way of creeping back and reminding you of the negative instead of the positive.  I can be as excited and hopeful as can be about the future, but then that twinge returns.  That pestering voice that asks the age old question, "Why?"  And when another situation in life proves more difficult for us, sometimes I follow that voice, open the door, and take the stairs where I end up in the basement of, "As if we don't have enough to deal with already," and, "Why does everything have to come so hard for us?"

And so, I'm brought back to my life verse and the promises that God has for me, for us.  While thinking more about it today, in the middle of a crazy, stressful, long, and tiring day at work, I couldn't help but remember that this is just one more piece in the unfinished puzzle.  That right now, we only see parts of the finished product in each situation and our lives.  They might not be the prettiest or nicest pieces, but God knows the outcome.  And that outcome will be so beautiful that it won't matter what each piece is like on its own, all we'll be able to see will be the whole.

We have to not think too far ahead of ourselves and instead just learn to trust.  To trust that whatever happens, we will be ok.  It's scary, and it seems impossible, but we have to remember that these struggles are not the end and everything is in more capable hands than ours.  I have made the choice to not think about all the terrible circumstances that might happen, but instead to pray, wait to see what really does happen, and take it day by day from there.

Check out "Even If" by Kutless

ubiquitous happenings

You know how when you get a new car or someone that you know has a unique model that you are just noticing for the first time, all of the sudden you see that car EVERYWHERE!  You can't go anywhere without seeing at least one drive by.

Lately I've been feeling that way [again].  Once this became our reality, I was surrounded by the seemingly uber-fertile or saw pregnancies everywhere.  I would go to church, the store, or just be out and about and felt like I was always reminded of what I couldn't have.  Often I've felt like this was so cruel, however, my practical side knows, it's just life.  And thankfully, God continues to get me through.  But bear with me, because it's been a little difficult lately. 

Tonight I was reminded once again that I will always be surrounded by this, especially for the next good number of years at this age in my life.  However, while there are good days and bad days, overall things do seem to be getting better.  Plus, I feel so blessed by the babies that are in my life who I get to see and enjoy often.  I thank God that I'm able to take part in the lives of my friends and family through their experiences and with their precious bundles.  AND, I am so excited for our future plans :)

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Joshua 1:9

 

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

Deuteronomy 31:6

[learning to] let go

Today will always be a sad day. 

Three years ago today my Grandma Grower on my mom's side of the family passed away after a year-long battle with cancer. 

And today, my Grandpa Saile on my dad's side of the family passed away.  While it wasn't sudden because his heart has been ailing for quite some time, it's still hard.  And while I am glad that he isn't in pain or suffering anymore, it's still hard to let go and say goodbye.  Growing up, both sets of grandparents would watch my brothers and I when my parents were at work, so we grew up spending time at their houses often.  Holidays were always spent with both sides on the same day, and I never take for granted the fact that we lived so close to our extended families.

So today is for Grandma Grower and Grandpa Saile.  Today Grandpa got to join various family and friends in Heaven.  Thank you both for blessing my life.  I miss you dearly.  I love you!

Grandma and Grandpa Saile at our wedding

my life verse

Currently at church we are doing a series called "Words with Friends."  The premise is that everyone should have a verse that they base their life around and/or that gets them through life and keeps them focused on God.  Each week a different pastor has talked about his life verse, and we have all been encouraged to write our verse on a tile which is then placed on the large game board (see pictures here on our church blog).

Right away I already knew what my verse was.  It is a verse that I have loved ever since probably middle school, and it continues to guide me to this day.  It's actually the footnote to this entire blog.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord,

"plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Jeremiah 29:11

See, I've always been a planner.  Like a super-organized-to-a-T-almost-OCD planner.  So one of the struggles that I most often have is letting go and remembering that God is in control.  It's one of those things that I have to constantly remind myself of and make sure to continually surrender control back to God.  This verse came in handy when I stressed about choosing the right college to go to and what my major should be.  It helped when I worried about never finding the right guy to marry.  It kept me grounded when I freaked out about moving to Spain for 5 months to study abroad.  It reminded me that in no way was I going to have to declare bankruptcy at the age of 22 and default on all of my school loans.  It kept me going when I had no idea what I was going to do with my life in terms of a career (oh wait, that's still true!).  And most recently, it has kept me anchored through one of the toughest, most emotional seasons of my life.  No matter what I was going through, dealing with, or overreacting about (yes, it helps me through the insignificant things as well), this verse reminds me that God is in control, if I let Him be, and that He knows exactly what plans He has for my life and how I can praise and glorify Him through them.  And when I felt hopeless about these situations, I was reminded that He is the One who gives me hope.

(bear with me here as we are about to get real personal...and long winded)

When I decided to write a post about my life verse a few weeks ago, I thought it would be the perfect way to introduce this topic.  While I had been wanting to start a blog for a while before actually doing so this past January, there was one huge circumstance that I wanted to work up to blogging about.  I had read many blogs about this topic and felt that because I love writing, having my own blog would help me continue to heal as well as give me an outlet to later document our journey.  However, this isn't only my story, so I couldn't just lay it all out there.  There are many instances where I've wanted to write about this, but just couldn't find the words and didn't feel that it was the right time.  Sooner or later though I wanted this out, so here goes!

On Monday, September 27th, 2010, Colin and I found out that we would 

never be able to have our own biological children.

(let the dust settle on that one for a minute)

Due to two bouts of childhood cancer, my husband was told that his fertility could be affected because of radiation, chemotherapy, and the drugs used for his bone marrow transplant.  When we were dating, Col told me that he might not be able to have children, but I told him that we would deal with that when we came to it.  I remember feeling so much closer to him that night because of the fact that he was willing to tell me.  Flash forward and we've been engaged for 7 months.  We talk more frequently about it and decide between the two of us that we would prefer to be prepared and know before we come to the time when we are ready to start a family.  Col goes for testing, receives a message, and calls the clinic back for his results.  We were the only ones home at his parents' house that evening, and he took the call in the other room while I nervously waited in the kitchen.  The call was brief.  He came to me, tears already on his face.  I immediately burst into tears, grabbed him in a hug, and knew that the news had not been good.  They told him that his count was 0.  The woman said, "You're getting married soon, right?  Well this means that you and your wife have no chances of having your own children.  And this doesn't protect from sexually transmitted diseases..."  She had the gall to say that.  To say with no compassion in her voice that our dreams of biological children were shattered.  To say in no uncertain terms that this did not give him a free pass to sleep around since he didn't have to worry about impregnating anyone.  Not that this news wouldn't be devastating to anyone, but it was so much harder because of the dreams we already had and our eagerness to have children someday. 

As you can imagine, since that time we have learned how to deal.  I say deal because although we feel we can slowly heal from this as well, there is a part of me that realizes that this is something we might never fully heal over.  It took me a long time in the beginning to be able to utter more than a heartbroken, "Why?" as I prayed.  As we shared the news with our parents, they cried with us and assured us that someday we would have children.  They might not be ours biologically, but we would be able to have a family like we always wanted.  My mom told me that I would need to take time to grieve, that it was a process of grieving what we had lost.  Which was true, we lost something before ever even having it.  And I, being female, lost a whole lot too.  It's impossible to put into words how I felt.  I just kept saying that it was so unfair because of all that my husband had to go through as a child, why would God take this away too?  I was confused, brokenhearted, and wanted answers that I knew I might never get while here on this earth. 

I wrote this once when having a hard day.  It attempts to describe the day we found out:

Our greatest loss

Do you know what it feels like to be 7 months away from your wedding and have to think about the possibility of never having children of your own?  Do you know what it feels like to make a call for news that will change your life forever?  Do you know what it feels like to wait, pacing in the other room, while your fiancé reluctantly dials the number, and waiting with abated breath for what seems like eternity?  Do you know what it feels like to hear the great, great loss from someone who speaks as if they are telling you the weather forecast?  Someone who is more concerned with disease than they are with your broken heart?  Do you know what it feels like to walk to him, breath held, until he collapses in your arms sobbing?  Do you know what it feels like to hear the news that there is a zero percent chance for you to ever father your own children?

Do you know what it feels like to realize that you will never experience the joy of finding out you’re pregnant?  Or feel a baby grow inside of you?  Or experience each and every detail of pregnancy from the morning sickness to feeling the baby kick to the stretched skin of your growing stomach?  Each and every wonder of that time will never, ever be personally experienced.  Can you fathom that?  Is it too much to take in?

Never will we see a baby and get to compare whose eyes or nose he or she has.  Blue or brown eyes?  Red or blond hair?  We’ll never know.  Or see as he or she grows up whose personality traits are prominent.  Detail-oriented or laid back?  Active or introverted?  We’ll never know.

We’ll never know.

However, our story is far from over.  I know that, and I hope that through my daily interactions and reactions regarding this topic I'm able to show that.  I know that God  has a plan, and although it is not the plan that we may have had in our minds, it will be great because it is His.  In no way do I blame God for this loss, instead I mourn sin in this world, but I do know with all my heart that God can turn pain into beauty and can make something good out of any circumstance.  And so for now, on the "normal" days and on the really hard days, I am striving to live out my life in a way that will show God's love through our pain.  And someday through the continuation of our story, I can't wait to see God's work and Him glorified.

_________________________________________________________________________

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord,

"plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Jeremiah 29:11

tears, prayers, and God's faithfulness

I'm not really sure how to start this post.  At first there was a lot that I wanted to write, then a lot that I wasn't sure I wanted to say.  So I took a little emotional break even though oftentimes writing is the activity I crave when I'm going through something.  This won't be as eloquent as what I first came up with in my head at the time, especially because a week has passed, but bear with me.

Last weekend was hard.  It was one of those emotional times when you want to curl up under the covers and stay in bed for a few days.  Certain emotions had been building up for me but were being dealt with when another blow came.   They always do once you think you've got yourself under control, you know?  I don't want to dwell on that, though.  You know why?  Because the weekend was also sprinkled with a picnic with friends, games, and a TON of family time.  And the best part of making it through another ride on the roller coaster of life?  Answered prayers; lots of them!

See, Friday we laughed, then we cried.  A lot.  Saturday we smiled and played, and then watched a movie which caused us to cry, laugh, deal with anger and frustration, and cry some more (curious?  It's called "Courageous."  It's powerful and moving and hard yet happy and chock full of specific applications to being a Godly family).  Both nights, Col and I collapsed into bed and prayed.  A lot.  And guess what?  MULTIPLE prayers of ours were answered.  Sunday we awoke to a new day full of God's promises and were not disappointed.  One after another we were astounded by how specifically and obviously (thanks God, I need those obvious ones!) He showed His love.  He was even able to work through me, through my own personal pain and disheartenment to show His love to more than one person, and I didn't even know it until it was pointed out to me later.  We bonded with others more than I've felt in a while, being able to talk honestly and in love.  We talked about the tough stuff and we talked about the exciting plans we have for our futures.  Sunday was a great day.  I was so blown away by everything; simply in awe of our Heavenly Father.  Although it was a tough weekend, it also brought Col and I even closer as we prayed and cried and witnessed God's love.  It reminded us of how generously we are blessed with the families that God has given us.  Because of all that, we were able to finish the weekend off on a much higher note than how we began it.  It was one of the most tangible times that I could list off exactly how our prayers were answered.  Oftentimes God answers our prayers differently than we'd like or expect, so we don't recognize that He has indeed heard us.  However, I'm grateful that this time he showed us plainly and perfectly.  It was awesome.

 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6-7

Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,

and he brought them out of their distress.

He stilled the storm to a whisper;

the waves of the sea were hushed.

They were glad when it grew calm,

and he guided them to their desired haven.

Psalm 107:28-30

musings

Life is hard. 

Sure we’ve all heard that before, but do you ever have those days/weeks/months/years where you feel burdened by this fact?  The past week has been exhausting in almost every sense of the word.  One thing after another has been popping up and threatening to steal my sense of well-being, destroy relationships, and cause me to grieve.  So lately I have been thinking about how much heartbreak and suffering there is in this life.  It’s been one of those weeks where I grieve for the perfect world that was lost due to sin.  And even though I’m thousands of years removed from that fateful day when Adam and Eve lost this perfection, I often think about what life would have been like.  Granted, this would erase our need for a Savior, Whom I’m eternally grateful to and thankful for a relationship with, but it’s always interesting to think about all the hurt that would have been avoided.  Enduring rough times make me even more excited for the everlasting joy of Heaven someday.

Do I love my life?  Wholly and unconditionally yes.  Am I ever so grateful for the blessings that God has bestowed upon me, my family, and my friends (the latter two being huge blessings in my own life)?  Of course!  However, do I also grieve along with God for the pain that sin and living in a fallen world causes people every day?  Yes.

But when all of this weighs heavy on my mind, I can find comfort and thank God for this: “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world.” John 16:33