Upon starting our own adoption pursuit, I was deeply worried about some things that I soon learned were actually not true at all of adoption. It's funny -- or sad, rather -- how the truth about adoption seems to only be known in the adoption community, and how the widespread misinformation can often prevent people from pursuing adoption themselves. There are tons of blogs and articles and books out there that try to clear up these misconceptions, but it seems that the only people who read them are the people who are already trying to adopt. I hope that anyone reading my blog will be able to learn a little something too, and hopefully do some further research to really understand the reality of adoption.
In the United States, we do not have orphanages filled with children just waiting to be adopted. (Yes, that is still a common belief.) Already born children are placed in foster care (those who are eligible to be adopted are called "waiting children"), and unborn children can be matched with parents who will legally adopt them through "domestic adoption."
Domestic infant adoption is drastically different than it was a generation or two ago. Studies have shown that the hush-hush, secretive type of adoption of the past -- known as "closed adoption" -- is actually not what is best for the child. "Open adoption" -- where there is a relationship between the birth parents, adoptive parents, and the adoptee -- is the preferred choice. That used to scare me, as I'd believed all those lies about birth parents swooping in and stealing the child from the adoptive parents, but upon further research I can see how ridiculous that is. Open adoption allows the adoptee to know his roots, where he came from. It is extremely beneficial in regard to medical history, as children of closed adoptions often have no idea what medical issues can run in their biological family. It is also very important for him to find out exactly why his birth parents placed him for adoption in the first place. Adoptive parents can do their best in trying to assure him that his birth parents did it out of love and yada yada, but it probably comes across the same way as when my mom would tell me I was "so much prettier" than whatever perfect-looking girl I wanted to look like at the time. Even then I knew she was just being nice (and probably believed it herself), but that she was a very biased source whose perspective might not be completely accurate. Hearing the birth parents' side of the story will allow a more confident and healthy view of their adoption, especially when it coincides with what the adoptive parents have been saying. As a parent, one of my favorite reasons to choose an open adoption is the idolization factor. When a birth parent is not in the picture at all, it is easy for the adoptee to create a fantasy that places the birth parent on a pedestal. "My birth mother wouldn't make me eat carrots!" "My birth mother would buy me that expensive dress!" "My birth mother wouldn't make me go to bed early!" But when they know their birth parents, it takes away the false perfection and actually removes some of the possible tension between the adoptee and the adoptive parents. I think it will help out immensely during the adolescent years!
I've already had people trying to discourage us from having an open adoption, and others who have tried to give well-meaning, but faulty advice about how we should do it. Unfortunately, these things were all due to the negative view of birth mothers. I've mentioned some misconceptions about birth mothers before, but sadly that is not the extent of the misinformation about them. I am not at all afraid of our child's birth mother kidnaping our child. If she wanted to parent the child, she would have kept him/her herself! Until the papers are signed, the baby is hers. She has every right to change her mind when she sees her baby's face, and it is understandable that some do. Most states (probably all, though I have not checked) have specific waiting periods before the mother is allowed to relinquish her rights to parent the child, because it is very important that she is committed to placing the baby for adoption without being coerced or forced in any way. Once she signs the papers, she has no legal claim to the baby at all. She cannot change her mind months or years down the road and take the baby back if the legal procedures were followed for the adoption placement. Reputable agencies and adoption attorneys also make sure the birth mother has access to counseling during pregnancy (if she checks into adoption early enough) and for some time after the adoption has taken place. These mothers make a HUGE sacrifice for their babies, and it is important that they are able to deal with the repercussions and grief associated with that in a healthy way. An open adoption can be helpful, as it can reassure the birth mother that she made the right choice by allowing her to see her baby being taken care of. It also makes the hole in her heart a little smaller, as the baby is not completely removed from her life.
There is one last misconception I want to touch on here. I did not know that there was an issue with insensitive adoption language until recently, but there certainly is. Just like it is not ok to call a child "retarded" when he has Downs Syndrome, there are many "no-no" words and phrases in adoption. Biological parents are not "real parents", as biological children are not "real children." A birth parent does not "give up" her child for adoption, she "places" her child for adoption. "Adopted" does not need to be a permanent adjective for the child. (I know I refer to "adopted child" a lot here, but it's to clarify who I am talking about in certain adoption scenarios, and it is not a way I would describe a particular, non-hypothetical child.) My child is my child, whether he is mine through adoption or biological means. I am my child's real mother, even if he has a biological mother as well. Adoption is something that happens to a child, but it does not define them. There is no benefit to constantly pointing it out to them, even if they look nothing like the family they live with. There are wonderful resources out there for adoption sensitive language, and it would be a great thing to teach your children as well.
The more people who know the truth about adoption, the better it is for those involved in adoption. I think a lot more people would adopt if they heard the truth about it, and I think it would cut down on a lot of the shame that birth parents -- and even some adoptees -- feel about their adoptions. Think before you speak, and don't spread faulty information or horror stories you've heard about your cousin in law's grandma's sister's friend who adopted. (Like Mrs. Lynde telling Marilla about the adopted child who put strychnine in the well!)
Monday, December 22, 2014
Monday, December 15, 2014
The Wait
Then Abraham waited patiently, and he received what God had promised. Hebrews 6:15
I have learned that one of the biggest differences between pregnancy and adoption is The Wait. When you are pregnant, you know you have a really good chance of giving birth within a few weeks of your due date. You have no need to fear a year or two passing before finally getting to hold your baby. (I understand that getting pregnant doesn't always come easily and can include quite an excruciating wait as well, so please don't misunderstand what I'm trying to say here.) However, with adoption, there is no due date. When you begin the adoption endeavor, you have no set time of when your baby will arrive. There are plenty of statistics and estimated wait times, but anyone who's stood in line at Disney knows that estimated wait times are not always indicative of actual wait times.
We started our active adoption pursuit in August. If I had gotten a positive pregnancy test at the same time, I would be about halfway through right now. I would be feeling wriggles and kicks and hiccups inside my growing tummy. I would be able to find out if we should buy a blue or pink going home outfit. Instead, I have absolutely no idea where we stand in our adoption. Yes, our home study is complete. Yes, our profile is ready. Yes, we can (and do) pursue potential birth mother situations. But there is no timeline to tell me that anyone will choose us at all, much less when. We could have a baby within days, or we could wait several more months or even years before that happens. That is rather assaulting to my need to plan everything, but I'm learning things.
One thing God has been telling me lately is to stop waiting like someone without Him would wait. I read an article that talks about the negative attitude we can get while waiting for the rainbow after the storm, and I found that it resonated with me far too well. I've caught myself thinking over and over again that we are never going to get a match, no matter how fervently we pray for it, because God has said no to us so many times already. I often get afraid to ask or hope for something that I desperately want, because He told me no when I prayed for Osias to be born healthy or for the miscarriages to not happen. I still struggle to understand how He could say no to such requests, but I choose to trust that His plan exceeds my plans. I can't assume that His past no's mean that is the only answer He is ever going to give me. He loves me and will always do what is best, even if I don't see or understand it.
If He wants me to wait longer than I want to wait (who am I kidding?! I was tired of waiting on the very first day we started this thing!), it is for a good reason. In the meantime, I am praying that He will teach me things during the wait. That all this waiting will make me a more patient and loving mother. That all this waiting will cause me to look to Him instead of at the circumstances around me. That He will be my prize, regardless of our adoption outcome. That I will trust Him with every detail, and that I will believe He fulfills His every promise. If Abraham and Sarah can wait an entire century to have their baby, I'm pretty sure I can wait however long He asks me to.
I have learned that one of the biggest differences between pregnancy and adoption is The Wait. When you are pregnant, you know you have a really good chance of giving birth within a few weeks of your due date. You have no need to fear a year or two passing before finally getting to hold your baby. (I understand that getting pregnant doesn't always come easily and can include quite an excruciating wait as well, so please don't misunderstand what I'm trying to say here.) However, with adoption, there is no due date. When you begin the adoption endeavor, you have no set time of when your baby will arrive. There are plenty of statistics and estimated wait times, but anyone who's stood in line at Disney knows that estimated wait times are not always indicative of actual wait times.
We started our active adoption pursuit in August. If I had gotten a positive pregnancy test at the same time, I would be about halfway through right now. I would be feeling wriggles and kicks and hiccups inside my growing tummy. I would be able to find out if we should buy a blue or pink going home outfit. Instead, I have absolutely no idea where we stand in our adoption. Yes, our home study is complete. Yes, our profile is ready. Yes, we can (and do) pursue potential birth mother situations. But there is no timeline to tell me that anyone will choose us at all, much less when. We could have a baby within days, or we could wait several more months or even years before that happens. That is rather assaulting to my need to plan everything, but I'm learning things.
One thing God has been telling me lately is to stop waiting like someone without Him would wait. I read an article that talks about the negative attitude we can get while waiting for the rainbow after the storm, and I found that it resonated with me far too well. I've caught myself thinking over and over again that we are never going to get a match, no matter how fervently we pray for it, because God has said no to us so many times already. I often get afraid to ask or hope for something that I desperately want, because He told me no when I prayed for Osias to be born healthy or for the miscarriages to not happen. I still struggle to understand how He could say no to such requests, but I choose to trust that His plan exceeds my plans. I can't assume that His past no's mean that is the only answer He is ever going to give me. He loves me and will always do what is best, even if I don't see or understand it.
If He wants me to wait longer than I want to wait (who am I kidding?! I was tired of waiting on the very first day we started this thing!), it is for a good reason. In the meantime, I am praying that He will teach me things during the wait. That all this waiting will make me a more patient and loving mother. That all this waiting will cause me to look to Him instead of at the circumstances around me. That He will be my prize, regardless of our adoption outcome. That I will trust Him with every detail, and that I will believe He fulfills His every promise. If Abraham and Sarah can wait an entire century to have their baby, I'm pretty sure I can wait however long He asks me to.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Autumn
Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for Him to act. Psalm 37:7
The Bible repeatedly reminds us to give thanks and pray instead of worrying or being anxious. Unfortunately, that goes completely against my natural inclination, and I often do the latter instead of the former. Worry gets me absolutely nowhere, but I can easily spend hours and hours dwelling on a certain fear or uncertainty and making it into a much larger problem than it was ever intended to be. It makes me want to slap myself for being so dumb, but then I'd probably just worry about that too.
I don't know what the weather is like where you are right now, but it is absolutely lovely here. While we are not far enough north to get the full effect of autumnal magic, several of our trees are covered in leaves in delightful shades of gold and amber. My favorite part of the day is when the sun hits them just right and makes them seem to shine, especially when a little breeze makes a few of them gracefully flutter to the pile of their friends already on the ground. Its silent beauty is powerful and makes my breath stop short in my throat.
All this fall beauty reminds me of the story of Elijah in 1 Kings 19, when God was not in the mighty windstorm, earthquake, or fire but in the sound of a gentle whisper. While a fluttering leaf is not as impressive as a crash of thunder or a wave slapping the shore, there is beauty in its calm. Even though most of us are in the habit of being busy and trying to pack our schedules with productivity and to do lists, I think we all just really want to have peace. To let out a contented sigh as we watch a fire crackling in the fireplace or a gentle ripple on the surface of a lake. I believe that is what God wants for us too, otherwise He wouldn't tell us to sit still and be quiet so much. No wonder we feel so frazzled and overwhelmed all the time!
So even though the holidays often come with tighter schedules, slimmer bank accounts, and longer to-do lists, this is the perfect time of year to stop and reflect on what a glorious King we serve.
The Bible repeatedly reminds us to give thanks and pray instead of worrying or being anxious. Unfortunately, that goes completely against my natural inclination, and I often do the latter instead of the former. Worry gets me absolutely nowhere, but I can easily spend hours and hours dwelling on a certain fear or uncertainty and making it into a much larger problem than it was ever intended to be. It makes me want to slap myself for being so dumb, but then I'd probably just worry about that too.
I don't know what the weather is like where you are right now, but it is absolutely lovely here. While we are not far enough north to get the full effect of autumnal magic, several of our trees are covered in leaves in delightful shades of gold and amber. My favorite part of the day is when the sun hits them just right and makes them seem to shine, especially when a little breeze makes a few of them gracefully flutter to the pile of their friends already on the ground. Its silent beauty is powerful and makes my breath stop short in my throat.
All this fall beauty reminds me of the story of Elijah in 1 Kings 19, when God was not in the mighty windstorm, earthquake, or fire but in the sound of a gentle whisper. While a fluttering leaf is not as impressive as a crash of thunder or a wave slapping the shore, there is beauty in its calm. Even though most of us are in the habit of being busy and trying to pack our schedules with productivity and to do lists, I think we all just really want to have peace. To let out a contented sigh as we watch a fire crackling in the fireplace or a gentle ripple on the surface of a lake. I believe that is what God wants for us too, otherwise He wouldn't tell us to sit still and be quiet so much. No wonder we feel so frazzled and overwhelmed all the time!
So even though the holidays often come with tighter schedules, slimmer bank accounts, and longer to-do lists, this is the perfect time of year to stop and reflect on what a glorious King we serve.
Friday, December 5, 2014
(Love is) An Open Door
First of all, I hope your weather has been as fantastic as ours! I absolutely love autumn. Secondly, I received a lovely little email from our case worker the other day...
We are home study approved!!!
It came just around the time I was texting a dear friend how I was feeling discouraged and beginning to question if we would ever get to adopt. The preceding days had been full of doubts and asking God if we had misinterpreted His plan for us. When there's a positive pregnancy test in hand, it is much easier to be confident that He has chosen us to parent a particular child. At the same time, losing three babies already and having a silent pause with our adoption makes it hard to not wonder if He doesn't think we are good enough to have another baby. Insecurities I didn't even know I had started popping up like weeds in a flowerbed.
What if our desire to adopt is just that -- a desire -- and not really what God wants us to be doing?
Even now, it's hard to know for sure, since there is still no baby in our arms, and not even one matched with us on paper. This whole thing is certainly a walk of faith, as each excruciating step seems to open up a new "can of worms" to deal with. However, with this hugely important home study behind us, it is very encouraging to see another door open toward adoption. Once the caseworker sends us our home study, we will be free to apply to multiple agencies who will hopefully be able to open the next door -- the one that leads to our baby's family!
Please continue to keep us in your prayers as we navigate this hectic chapter of our lives. Trying to time an adoption in the middle of a big move, and trying to figure out how to pay for it all is our Goliath right now. We need David's courage and stones more than ever right now.
So David triumphed over the Philistine with only a sling and a stone, for he had no sword. (1 Samuel 17:50)
We are home study approved!!!
It came just around the time I was texting a dear friend how I was feeling discouraged and beginning to question if we would ever get to adopt. The preceding days had been full of doubts and asking God if we had misinterpreted His plan for us. When there's a positive pregnancy test in hand, it is much easier to be confident that He has chosen us to parent a particular child. At the same time, losing three babies already and having a silent pause with our adoption makes it hard to not wonder if He doesn't think we are good enough to have another baby. Insecurities I didn't even know I had started popping up like weeds in a flowerbed.
What if our desire to adopt is just that -- a desire -- and not really what God wants us to be doing?
Even now, it's hard to know for sure, since there is still no baby in our arms, and not even one matched with us on paper. This whole thing is certainly a walk of faith, as each excruciating step seems to open up a new "can of worms" to deal with. However, with this hugely important home study behind us, it is very encouraging to see another door open toward adoption. Once the caseworker sends us our home study, we will be free to apply to multiple agencies who will hopefully be able to open the next door -- the one that leads to our baby's family!
Please continue to keep us in your prayers as we navigate this hectic chapter of our lives. Trying to time an adoption in the middle of a big move, and trying to figure out how to pay for it all is our Goliath right now. We need David's courage and stones more than ever right now.
So David triumphed over the Philistine with only a sling and a stone, for he had no sword. (1 Samuel 17:50)
Monday, December 1, 2014
{On the Soapbox} About Birthmothers
While things have been pretty quiet on this blog lately, I can assure you that life certainly has not been so calm. As my last post mentioned, we will soon be packing up everything we own (after purging/selling/donating a good portion of it) and making yet another big move. Since we first got word of our next location, our moving date has been bumped up a few months, the last of our home study paperwork has been turned in and is waiting for approval, and our family profile has been completed! I have a stack of them just waiting to be sent out the moment we get our home study approved.
The past few weeks have been pretty intense, as the reality of our current situation seems more and more daunting. Moving is always a rather scary and expensive thing, and coupling that with an upcoming rather scary and expensive adoption makes everything seem even more scary and more expensive. We have a LOT of unknowns ahead of us, especially since we don't even know if we will have our baby before we move. That extra person makes a pretty huge impact on how a lot of our decisions will be made. I've found myself getting caught up in our own circumstances a lot more than I should.
So while I alternate between excited anticipation and overwhelming anxiety, I've begun to get emails of potential "situations" from our adoption consultant. "Situations" are notices of expecting families who are considering potential adoptive parents to place their baby with. The first of these emails I received simply broke my heart (and each one since has continued to do so). Not only was the expectant mother in a really hard place, but getting to see her picture and read a little of her story made this whole thing so much more real. It's not the same as picking out a baby doll from a store or choosing a cute puppy from a breeder. These are real people with real problems who need real love. The joy we will have in welcoming a precious baby into our home (or extended stay hotel room, depending on the timing) cannot happen without the broken sadness of the birth family. Giving us their baby is not the extent of their story. They will continue to exist with the empty space the baby will leave behind. We will not be able to forget them regardless of how open or closed our adoption will be. In fact, there have been one or two of these emailed situations that I have not been able to stop thinking about, even though we never even had a chance at adopting their babies. I dream about them. I cry over them in the shower. I pray for them. And while I will probably never actually meet them, their faces are imprinted on my memory. Knowing we could not be matched with a particular one of them (due to our home study approval seeming to take FOREVER), I still found myself checking with the agency to make sure she had found a family to adopt their little one and was thrilled to find out she did.
I know I'm probably not alone in being quick to judge others for their poor life choices, but this process is making me more aware that these poor life choices are always made by people. Hurting people. Broken people. Confused people. Misinformed people. People just like you and me. Contrary to popular belief, these ladies are not rebellious teenagers who are too lazy or too stupid to care for their own children. A lot of them are well out of their teen years, and some of them are even married to the baby's father. But for one reason or another, they don't have the resources or ability to raise their children the way they want to, so they make the selfless and more difficult choice of adoption. Before we started actively pursuing our interest in adoption, I assumed birth mothers were taking the easy way out and abandoning their children out of selfishness. I was so very wrong. They love their babies enough to give them the best chance at life, and that speaks of more courage than I can even imagine. I'm very sorry that I ever looked down on these brave ladies, and I hope our own adoption story can help change some of the common misconceptions many of us had/have had about such things.
The past few weeks have been pretty intense, as the reality of our current situation seems more and more daunting. Moving is always a rather scary and expensive thing, and coupling that with an upcoming rather scary and expensive adoption makes everything seem even more scary and more expensive. We have a LOT of unknowns ahead of us, especially since we don't even know if we will have our baby before we move. That extra person makes a pretty huge impact on how a lot of our decisions will be made. I've found myself getting caught up in our own circumstances a lot more than I should.
So while I alternate between excited anticipation and overwhelming anxiety, I've begun to get emails of potential "situations" from our adoption consultant. "Situations" are notices of expecting families who are considering potential adoptive parents to place their baby with. The first of these emails I received simply broke my heart (and each one since has continued to do so). Not only was the expectant mother in a really hard place, but getting to see her picture and read a little of her story made this whole thing so much more real. It's not the same as picking out a baby doll from a store or choosing a cute puppy from a breeder. These are real people with real problems who need real love. The joy we will have in welcoming a precious baby into our home (or extended stay hotel room, depending on the timing) cannot happen without the broken sadness of the birth family. Giving us their baby is not the extent of their story. They will continue to exist with the empty space the baby will leave behind. We will not be able to forget them regardless of how open or closed our adoption will be. In fact, there have been one or two of these emailed situations that I have not been able to stop thinking about, even though we never even had a chance at adopting their babies. I dream about them. I cry over them in the shower. I pray for them. And while I will probably never actually meet them, their faces are imprinted on my memory. Knowing we could not be matched with a particular one of them (due to our home study approval seeming to take FOREVER), I still found myself checking with the agency to make sure she had found a family to adopt their little one and was thrilled to find out she did.
I know I'm probably not alone in being quick to judge others for their poor life choices, but this process is making me more aware that these poor life choices are always made by people. Hurting people. Broken people. Confused people. Misinformed people. People just like you and me. Contrary to popular belief, these ladies are not rebellious teenagers who are too lazy or too stupid to care for their own children. A lot of them are well out of their teen years, and some of them are even married to the baby's father. But for one reason or another, they don't have the resources or ability to raise their children the way they want to, so they make the selfless and more difficult choice of adoption. Before we started actively pursuing our interest in adoption, I assumed birth mothers were taking the easy way out and abandoning their children out of selfishness. I was so very wrong. They love their babies enough to give them the best chance at life, and that speaks of more courage than I can even imagine. I'm very sorry that I ever looked down on these brave ladies, and I hope our own adoption story can help change some of the common misconceptions many of us had/have had about such things.
Friday, November 14, 2014
Making Like a Tree...
Back in 2012, when we were in the midst of our move nearly halfway around the world, I mistakenly said to Darling, "After all the craziness these past 4 years have held, life is going to seem so boring and uneventful in comparison from here on out." Two and a half years later, and I can honestly say things got more interesting, more eventful, and more memorable than I ever could have imagined. This tiny little southern town and its surrounding areas hold some of the sweetest, dearest, and absolute bestest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Some of them held our sweet Osias, and some of them held me during the difficult moments of his life and afterwards. Some of them welcomed us back to the church family after our too-long absence and encouraged us to grow and rediscover how much God truly loves us. Some of them have become lifelong friends that I will always treasure, and that I truly hope to reunite with again someday.
My last three pregnancies began and ended here. We bought our first house here. Our kids saw a squirrel for the first time here (seriously! Hawaii doesn't have squirrels). Our oldest kids learned how to ride a bike here. This was the place that offered so much sweet tea that my kidneys hurt for the first few weeks we lived here. We saw our first monster truck show here. We laughed here. We cried here. We hurt here. We healed here. We grew here. We loved here.
And now we are leaving here.
Being a military family, that isn't really too surprising, moving and all. It's a known fact we most likely won't ever stay in one place for more than 3 or 4 years, and we had no expectation (or desire, if I'm being completely honest) that here would be any different. Yet somehow when Darling got his orders, I realized just how deep our roots were planted during our time here. This is the only house I've ever dreamed about, besides my childhood home. It's going to hurt to leave this place in a few months. I know I'm going to be leaving a hefty piece of my heart here when we go, even though I hope I gain a new piece of my heart in our new home. And while I now know better than to make any predictions about how eventful or not our next chapter will be, I'm filled with bittersweet excitement to begin it. I want to live out the next few years with more passion and interest than I have in the past, because I know more now than I did when our last chapter began. I carry a powerful reminder of how short life can be, and I know that this moment is the only one we are guaranteed to have.
My last three pregnancies began and ended here. We bought our first house here. Our kids saw a squirrel for the first time here (seriously! Hawaii doesn't have squirrels). Our oldest kids learned how to ride a bike here. This was the place that offered so much sweet tea that my kidneys hurt for the first few weeks we lived here. We saw our first monster truck show here. We laughed here. We cried here. We hurt here. We healed here. We grew here. We loved here.
And now we are leaving here.
Being a military family, that isn't really too surprising, moving and all. It's a known fact we most likely won't ever stay in one place for more than 3 or 4 years, and we had no expectation (or desire, if I'm being completely honest) that here would be any different. Yet somehow when Darling got his orders, I realized just how deep our roots were planted during our time here. This is the only house I've ever dreamed about, besides my childhood home. It's going to hurt to leave this place in a few months. I know I'm going to be leaving a hefty piece of my heart here when we go, even though I hope I gain a new piece of my heart in our new home. And while I now know better than to make any predictions about how eventful or not our next chapter will be, I'm filled with bittersweet excitement to begin it. I want to live out the next few years with more passion and interest than I have in the past, because I know more now than I did when our last chapter began. I carry a powerful reminder of how short life can be, and I know that this moment is the only one we are guaranteed to have.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Grief, Unexpected
Grief is a strange and funny thing. I've heard it said that grief comes in waves, and it never truly goes away. In my short time being a "griever" of a very close, personal loss (like everyone, I've lost other loved ones I was very close to, but never someone who I had such an intense connection to), I certainly feel that statement is true. Some days, even a few of those early days shortly after Osias died, don't always seem that bad. They are the days when I can think positive and focus on the fact that he's living it up in a far better place than this world could ever be to him. The other days are the ones everyone expects us to have after losing a child, the ones filled with dread and crippling sorrow, the ones that make it so dang hard to get out of bed. The ones that I'm just not allowed to be having now that I'm outside of the one-year window from my baby's death.
But I still do.
Another funny thing about grief is that it always seems to show up the strongest when it's unannounced and unexpected. Of course, we expect to have the really hard days on certain milestones, but those haven't always lived up to their dreaded expectation. It's those normal, run-of-the-mill days of no significance when grief likes to speed into the driveway with the horn honking and maybe even doing a doughnut or two in the grass for good measure. It knocks down the front door like the Kool-aid man and straps its heavy self onto me like one of those backpacks they wear during military training hikes. It can literally stop me in my tracks and throw off every plan I had for the day. Sometimes it sticks around for a week or so, sometimes only a matter of hours, but it's usually for two or three days at a time.
Grief is pretty unpredictable, in spite of being neatly organized into the list of stages all the books say we will (and certainly have!) go through. Not only with its inconsistent arrivals, but with its varying intensity. This week was a strange one. I started feeling that familiar smothered feeling, where grief becomes a physical affliction in addition to the emotional type. It caught me off guard, because I'd been doing so well lately and was getting pretty excited about some of the progress we've made toward our adoption and some other goals I have right now. It took me several hours to figure out what the problem was, because it wasn't the usual super-mega-intense sort of grief that typically makes me feel that way. This grief was a very strong ache, throwing me completely off my groove and making me feel that restless anxiety that something was wrong.
Of course something was wrong. Something will always be wrong, because I've outlived my child.
When I had a little bit of quiet time to stop and try to ponder what was going on, I realized that my emotions and my body were all geared up to struggle over some things I hadn't even been thinking about. We'd had family pictures taken last week for our personal use and to add to our adoption profile...and Osias wasn't in them. I'd had a fleeting thought about whether or not I should take a photo of him along for us to hold in the pictures, but I'd decided against it. All of a sudden, it felt so wrong that we had taken family pictures without our whole family in it. Beyond that, our older son's birthday is this week, and it's yet another occasion that we will be celebrating without our baby. It's weird to have my "youngest" child be turning four, even though my true youngest is much younger than that.
Christmas is right around the corner, which means there will be Christmas card photos of kids in their red and green jammies by the tree...but not all the kids will be there. There will be an empty stocking hanging by the fireplace, because there's no one here to excitedly dig through it on Christmas morning. It sucks.
I'm doing much better now, even though I'm sure the tone of this post suggests otherwise. I know there are tons and tons of things out there about grief and losing a child and all that, but I felt like maybe people need to know that there's more to it than one would expect. It's not all tears and dreary thoughts, but even the happiest smiles have a hint of sadness to them. It's a bittersweet existence, but it's one that I wouldn't trade for the world, because my grief is evidence of a life that once lived -- a precious life that I will always be thankful to have had in my life. So if you've lost a child and are feeling out of sorts or not normal, know that you are not alone. And if you haven't lost a child yourself but know someone who has, try not to hold them to your expectations of their grief.
But I still do.
Another funny thing about grief is that it always seems to show up the strongest when it's unannounced and unexpected. Of course, we expect to have the really hard days on certain milestones, but those haven't always lived up to their dreaded expectation. It's those normal, run-of-the-mill days of no significance when grief likes to speed into the driveway with the horn honking and maybe even doing a doughnut or two in the grass for good measure. It knocks down the front door like the Kool-aid man and straps its heavy self onto me like one of those backpacks they wear during military training hikes. It can literally stop me in my tracks and throw off every plan I had for the day. Sometimes it sticks around for a week or so, sometimes only a matter of hours, but it's usually for two or three days at a time.
Grief is pretty unpredictable, in spite of being neatly organized into the list of stages all the books say we will (and certainly have!) go through. Not only with its inconsistent arrivals, but with its varying intensity. This week was a strange one. I started feeling that familiar smothered feeling, where grief becomes a physical affliction in addition to the emotional type. It caught me off guard, because I'd been doing so well lately and was getting pretty excited about some of the progress we've made toward our adoption and some other goals I have right now. It took me several hours to figure out what the problem was, because it wasn't the usual super-mega-intense sort of grief that typically makes me feel that way. This grief was a very strong ache, throwing me completely off my groove and making me feel that restless anxiety that something was wrong.
Of course something was wrong. Something will always be wrong, because I've outlived my child.
When I had a little bit of quiet time to stop and try to ponder what was going on, I realized that my emotions and my body were all geared up to struggle over some things I hadn't even been thinking about. We'd had family pictures taken last week for our personal use and to add to our adoption profile...and Osias wasn't in them. I'd had a fleeting thought about whether or not I should take a photo of him along for us to hold in the pictures, but I'd decided against it. All of a sudden, it felt so wrong that we had taken family pictures without our whole family in it. Beyond that, our older son's birthday is this week, and it's yet another occasion that we will be celebrating without our baby. It's weird to have my "youngest" child be turning four, even though my true youngest is much younger than that.
Christmas is right around the corner, which means there will be Christmas card photos of kids in their red and green jammies by the tree...but not all the kids will be there. There will be an empty stocking hanging by the fireplace, because there's no one here to excitedly dig through it on Christmas morning. It sucks.
I'm doing much better now, even though I'm sure the tone of this post suggests otherwise. I know there are tons and tons of things out there about grief and losing a child and all that, but I felt like maybe people need to know that there's more to it than one would expect. It's not all tears and dreary thoughts, but even the happiest smiles have a hint of sadness to them. It's a bittersweet existence, but it's one that I wouldn't trade for the world, because my grief is evidence of a life that once lived -- a precious life that I will always be thankful to have had in my life. So if you've lost a child and are feeling out of sorts or not normal, know that you are not alone. And if you haven't lost a child yourself but know someone who has, try not to hold them to your expectations of their grief.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Home Visit {Update!}
Our greatly-dreaded home visit happened last night after a few days of panic and anxiety and frantic cleaning. In case you ever find yourself pursuing adoption and agonizing over your home visit, I hope you end up with a caseworker like ours. All the worry was for absolutely nothing, because she was so sweet and so non-judgmental. She didn't even examine the freshly-dusted fan blades or the dog hair that just won't come off the curtains no matter how hard I try! She didn't seem to notice the patch of unshaven hair on my knee that I'd missed that morning in the shower. She didn't cringe when Francesca sneezed on her leg or when Miss Beasley howled in the bathroom when it thundered. She didn't make a stern face and take notes when the kids got out of bed for the fifth time after being told to go to sleep. She didn't even ask questions about some of the questionable aspects of our "self studies." I would like to keep her and make clones of her to place all over the country to lessen the anxiety of adoptive parents everywhere.
After she had left, I was exhausted yet on an ecstatic high from the huge amount of relief I had! While Darling had to go take care of some work-related issues for an hour or so, I indulged my greatly-less-stressed self with a few chapters in another adoption book I'd picked up at the library. Reading story after story from people on both sides of the adoption equation added even more fuel to my adoption fire, and I'm even more excited than ever to move forward with the whole thing. (As opposed to a few days ago when I was questioning if we should even try this after all.) I know the hardest part is probably not behind us yet, but I am thrilled beyond belief at how simple this step turned out to be after all. It gives me hope that the rest of it might not be quite as bad as I expect, and that hopefully we will end up with a roly-poly baby in our arms in the near future.
After she had left, I was exhausted yet on an ecstatic high from the huge amount of relief I had! While Darling had to go take care of some work-related issues for an hour or so, I indulged my greatly-less-stressed self with a few chapters in another adoption book I'd picked up at the library. Reading story after story from people on both sides of the adoption equation added even more fuel to my adoption fire, and I'm even more excited than ever to move forward with the whole thing. (As opposed to a few days ago when I was questioning if we should even try this after all.) I know the hardest part is probably not behind us yet, but I am thrilled beyond belief at how simple this step turned out to be after all. It gives me hope that the rest of it might not be quite as bad as I expect, and that hopefully we will end up with a roly-poly baby in our arms in the near future.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Tending the Hidden Spaces
I know I said I probably wouldn't be posting anything this week since our home visit is NEXT WEEK (GAH!), but I forgot to take into account the therapeutic effect writing can have on my frazzled nerves and that I can't clean for hours and hours without pause.
I refuse to get too stressed or overwhelmed about any step we take during our adoption, because I know that God is in control and that letting my head go to its crazy place will not be beneficial at all anyway. (I admit I have slipped into freak-out mode a few times, but thankfully God hasn't allowed me to stay there unchecked for long.) With that, I've been pacing myself with a steady stream of progress taken one baby step at a time. It's probably not the fastest way of getting things done, but it has helped my own state of mind tremendously by maintaining a sense of calm. Slow and steady, slow and steady.
When faced with the prospect of having our home looked at by someone who has the power to deem us fit or unfit to proceed with adoption, a lot of formerly unnoticed imperfections start coming into view. Our house isn't huge by any means, and when you pair a small space with two furry, rapidly-shedding dogs, it's darn near impossible to ever have spotless perfection. That has been a difficult concept for me to grasp, especially when my freshly-vacuumed floor looks like it's gone weeks between cleanings within an hour or two. So.much.dog.hair! I've noticed the excessive amount of fur and slobber (thanks for that, Miss Beasley) on a daily basis, but now I'm also beginning to see random marks on the walls, cobwebs in the super high corners that I can't reach, spots on vases, dust--oh! so much dust!--on the fans and light fixtures, an especially funky smell coming from the garbage disposal, and so on. I always sort of thought I was a neat freak, but I'm beginning to realize that's far from the truth.
While I was standing on a chair and marveling at the disgusting handfuls of dust I was getting off the fan (which is always on, so I have no idea how a perpetually moving object can collect so much dust!) just in case our caseworker demands to see it turned off so she can count the dust specks, I started to think about all the bits of hidden or unnoticed filth in my own heart. This whole concept of opening up our lives to a new child--one we actually have to choose to receive instead of just having it given to us like our biological children--is rather unsettling. It has been stirring up a number of emotions and realizations that I've got many dirty and unworthy areas that need to be cleaned out and spruced up. How can I possibly be good enough to be chosen to raise a precious little one who will need extra assurance of love and acceptance thanks to a painful backstory? How could any birth mother look at us and think we are the ones she wants to give her baby to?
It's easy to make things appear better than what they are, whether it's our home or our family profile or even ourselves, but I don't want to just pretend my way through this. While I want to win the grand prize of a new baby, I don't want to cheat my way through or mislead the birthparents about who we really are just so they'll pick us. We aren't perfect. We aren't mind-bogglingly wealthy or talented. We spend too much time in front of the TV and not enough time getting gnawed on by mosquitoes in the backyard. I'm far from being one of those supermoms who always have a fun and messy craft project to do with their kids. I sometimes get annoyed when I have to stop what I'm doing to hunt for another lost toy or to referee another silly argument, and I get grumpy when they wake me up too early. I'd rather read Jane Austen than that horribly boring book they chose at the library and now want me to read six hundred times (a giant Vidalia onion in overalls, really?!). I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes and sighing when they repeat the same ninja turtles story over and over. I'm pretty darn selfish, and I don't deserve the kids we already have, let alone one that currently belongs to someone else.
I admit that I didn't include any of that in our family profile. Instead, while I'm scrubbing the baseboards and wiping down the counters, I'm asking that God will keep pointing out dirty spots in my heart that I need to let Him clean. That He will make me into exactly the mother all of our children need me to be. And I pray that next time one of my little ones ask me to read a poorly-written book to them or knock on my door at 3am to ask for a drink of water, that my first response would be gratitude for the incredible privilege I have to take care of our children. And a lot of grace, coffee, and wine to get me through the hard days. *wink*
I refuse to get too stressed or overwhelmed about any step we take during our adoption, because I know that God is in control and that letting my head go to its crazy place will not be beneficial at all anyway. (I admit I have slipped into freak-out mode a few times, but thankfully God hasn't allowed me to stay there unchecked for long.) With that, I've been pacing myself with a steady stream of progress taken one baby step at a time. It's probably not the fastest way of getting things done, but it has helped my own state of mind tremendously by maintaining a sense of calm. Slow and steady, slow and steady.
When faced with the prospect of having our home looked at by someone who has the power to deem us fit or unfit to proceed with adoption, a lot of formerly unnoticed imperfections start coming into view. Our house isn't huge by any means, and when you pair a small space with two furry, rapidly-shedding dogs, it's darn near impossible to ever have spotless perfection. That has been a difficult concept for me to grasp, especially when my freshly-vacuumed floor looks like it's gone weeks between cleanings within an hour or two. So.much.dog.hair! I've noticed the excessive amount of fur and slobber (thanks for that, Miss Beasley) on a daily basis, but now I'm also beginning to see random marks on the walls, cobwebs in the super high corners that I can't reach, spots on vases, dust--oh! so much dust!--on the fans and light fixtures, an especially funky smell coming from the garbage disposal, and so on. I always sort of thought I was a neat freak, but I'm beginning to realize that's far from the truth.
While I was standing on a chair and marveling at the disgusting handfuls of dust I was getting off the fan (which is always on, so I have no idea how a perpetually moving object can collect so much dust!) just in case our caseworker demands to see it turned off so she can count the dust specks, I started to think about all the bits of hidden or unnoticed filth in my own heart. This whole concept of opening up our lives to a new child--one we actually have to choose to receive instead of just having it given to us like our biological children--is rather unsettling. It has been stirring up a number of emotions and realizations that I've got many dirty and unworthy areas that need to be cleaned out and spruced up. How can I possibly be good enough to be chosen to raise a precious little one who will need extra assurance of love and acceptance thanks to a painful backstory? How could any birth mother look at us and think we are the ones she wants to give her baby to?
It's easy to make things appear better than what they are, whether it's our home or our family profile or even ourselves, but I don't want to just pretend my way through this. While I want to win the grand prize of a new baby, I don't want to cheat my way through or mislead the birthparents about who we really are just so they'll pick us. We aren't perfect. We aren't mind-bogglingly wealthy or talented. We spend too much time in front of the TV and not enough time getting gnawed on by mosquitoes in the backyard. I'm far from being one of those supermoms who always have a fun and messy craft project to do with their kids. I sometimes get annoyed when I have to stop what I'm doing to hunt for another lost toy or to referee another silly argument, and I get grumpy when they wake me up too early. I'd rather read Jane Austen than that horribly boring book they chose at the library and now want me to read six hundred times (a giant Vidalia onion in overalls, really?!). I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes and sighing when they repeat the same ninja turtles story over and over. I'm pretty darn selfish, and I don't deserve the kids we already have, let alone one that currently belongs to someone else.
I admit that I didn't include any of that in our family profile. Instead, while I'm scrubbing the baseboards and wiping down the counters, I'm asking that God will keep pointing out dirty spots in my heart that I need to let Him clean. That He will make me into exactly the mother all of our children need me to be. And I pray that next time one of my little ones ask me to read a poorly-written book to them or knock on my door at 3am to ask for a drink of water, that my first response would be gratitude for the incredible privilege I have to take care of our children. And a lot of grace, coffee, and wine to get me through the hard days. *wink*
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Welcome, September!
I had an adoption update all written up and ready to rest a few days before proof-reading, but then I never went back to edit and post it! So now that one is outdated and will be replaced with whatever this one turns out to be. Sorry to keep you waiting in the midst of overwhelming anticipation like that! (It makes me feel better about my writing if I pretend I'm a well-sought-after author with a huge fan base anticipating my ever word.)
My emotions have been fluctuating a lot lately with this whole adoption thing. I was feeling pretty good about our progress with the home study stuff, then I realized I have to get moving on our family profile (the photo-filled story of our family that will be presented to prospective birth parents once our home study is complete), gathering the extra things required by a few of the agencies we might end up working with, and of course, applying for grants/loans/etc. and trying to raise enough money to pay for everything. All this while already feeling overwhelmed and conflicted about regular stuff going on in life, so I've been a bundle of nerves lately. I've been trying to remind myself to just relax and trust God to handle things in His timing instead of trying to force things into place before their time.
We've all completed our medical evaluations, and Darling and I have gotten one set of fingerprints done. I learned that my fingers are not very cooperative with whatever that machine is called, and I barely have any prints at all. Darling's hands are much better suited for such things. Perhaps I was born to be a cat burglar, but that isn't something that would work out very well with pursuing adoption. Maybe I'll squeeze into a black leather cat suit when I'm ancient, and see if I can steal dentures from friends' nightstands.
Our Amazon link has been getting some use, and has brought in $26 and change in the past month! Thank you to all who have used it and/or shared it, as every bit helps. We have plans for an upcoming yard sale soon, which will hopefully bring in some more funds, and we've been working so hard to avoid eating out. That's a tough one for us, since we love food and are sometimes too lazy to make it ourselves. But $40 or so for a single meal is pretty ridiculous when we are trying to add to our family, so the sacrifice is worth it. Our budget has a lot of fat on it that we could cut, but we have a hard time agreeing on how extreme to go with it. We are planning on taking a final vacation with just the four of us, since some things will be out of the question with a baby in tow, and since we have no idea where we will be living a year from now. I admit that I feel pretty guilty about it, even though I think it will be a good memory-making opportunity for us that we might not have again. I really don't want to be one of those people who asks for financial help while being frivolous with our own money.
The past few weeks have been full of missing our sweet Osias, even though he was already gone this time a year ago. I don't know where the time has gone. We saw the most precious little girl at church the other day, and her adorable wobbly dancing and clinging to/patting her daddy's shoulder was a huge reminder of what we are missing with our precious boy. I try to imagine his little voice babbling and his chubby hands getting into trouble, only to return to the harsh reality that those things will only take place in my imagination. Even the munchkins have been talking a lot about him lately, and I so hate that those conversations usually begin with "I wish Osias didn't have to die." Adopting a baby will probably make us all think of him even more, especially since J has already begun saying, "I really hope this baby doesn't die too." It has given us many opportunities to talk about the uncertainties of life and death, and she is more diligent in her pilgrimage to the "Celestial City" we've been reading about in Little Pilgrim's Progress
so she can join her baby brother someday.
My emotions have been fluctuating a lot lately with this whole adoption thing. I was feeling pretty good about our progress with the home study stuff, then I realized I have to get moving on our family profile (the photo-filled story of our family that will be presented to prospective birth parents once our home study is complete), gathering the extra things required by a few of the agencies we might end up working with, and of course, applying for grants/loans/etc. and trying to raise enough money to pay for everything. All this while already feeling overwhelmed and conflicted about regular stuff going on in life, so I've been a bundle of nerves lately. I've been trying to remind myself to just relax and trust God to handle things in His timing instead of trying to force things into place before their time.
We've all completed our medical evaluations, and Darling and I have gotten one set of fingerprints done. I learned that my fingers are not very cooperative with whatever that machine is called, and I barely have any prints at all. Darling's hands are much better suited for such things. Perhaps I was born to be a cat burglar, but that isn't something that would work out very well with pursuing adoption. Maybe I'll squeeze into a black leather cat suit when I'm ancient, and see if I can steal dentures from friends' nightstands.
Our Amazon link has been getting some use, and has brought in $26 and change in the past month! Thank you to all who have used it and/or shared it, as every bit helps. We have plans for an upcoming yard sale soon, which will hopefully bring in some more funds, and we've been working so hard to avoid eating out. That's a tough one for us, since we love food and are sometimes too lazy to make it ourselves. But $40 or so for a single meal is pretty ridiculous when we are trying to add to our family, so the sacrifice is worth it. Our budget has a lot of fat on it that we could cut, but we have a hard time agreeing on how extreme to go with it. We are planning on taking a final vacation with just the four of us, since some things will be out of the question with a baby in tow, and since we have no idea where we will be living a year from now. I admit that I feel pretty guilty about it, even though I think it will be a good memory-making opportunity for us that we might not have again. I really don't want to be one of those people who asks for financial help while being frivolous with our own money.
The past few weeks have been full of missing our sweet Osias, even though he was already gone this time a year ago. I don't know where the time has gone. We saw the most precious little girl at church the other day, and her adorable wobbly dancing and clinging to/patting her daddy's shoulder was a huge reminder of what we are missing with our precious boy. I try to imagine his little voice babbling and his chubby hands getting into trouble, only to return to the harsh reality that those things will only take place in my imagination. Even the munchkins have been talking a lot about him lately, and I so hate that those conversations usually begin with "I wish Osias didn't have to die." Adopting a baby will probably make us all think of him even more, especially since J has already begun saying, "I really hope this baby doesn't die too." It has given us many opportunities to talk about the uncertainties of life and death, and she is more diligent in her pilgrimage to the "Celestial City" we've been reading about in Little Pilgrim's Progress
so she can join her baby brother someday.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Week 2 Progress
Now that we are in the second week of our adoption process (and homeschooling, which means my days have been busy!), I've begun to feel a bit of pressure to make some significant progress. Unfortunately, the to do list is long and rather intimidating at this point, so it's hard to figure out where to start. I decided the most important next step would be to establish some contact with our social worker (the person in charge of our home study, who will ultimately decide whether or not we are "fit" to adopt) to find out what part of the home study we should tackle first. I wish I had called her last week! She was such a sweet, calming person who immediately relieved my fears of a stern, drill sergeant-type person pointing out every single flaw. I was able to ask a lot of questions to figure out what she expects of us and will be looking for, which gives some sense of direction to the whole thing.
I also managed to schedule some of our medical evaluations (basically to find out if we have any communicable diseases or any physical issue that could prevent or affect our ability to parent), set up one of our three background checks (which will be another $200-$300--sheesh!), and knocked out another 6 or 7 pages of paperwork. When Darling got home from work, he completed several pages of his portion of the paperwork too, so we are on a roll!
I finished reading another book about adoption over the weekend, and I've started the next one. I can't remember their titles now, so I'll have to post about them another time. For now, I'm exhausted!
I also managed to schedule some of our medical evaluations (basically to find out if we have any communicable diseases or any physical issue that could prevent or affect our ability to parent), set up one of our three background checks (which will be another $200-$300--sheesh!), and knocked out another 6 or 7 pages of paperwork. When Darling got home from work, he completed several pages of his portion of the paperwork too, so we are on a roll!
I finished reading another book about adoption over the weekend, and I've started the next one. I can't remember their titles now, so I'll have to post about them another time. For now, I'm exhausted!
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Nesting and Such
As mentioned in my last post, we are now in the early stages of adopting a precious little one into our family! I'm still somewhat in shock that this is actually happening, because it's something that has always been deferred to that obscure "someday" that rarely ever arrives. We went from discussing it as a possibility one day, to printing out about 90 pages of paperwork the next day. Since reading personal accounts of other people's adoption journeys has given me a much better understanding of the process and what to expect along the way, I'd like to share our experience along the way as well. Maybe it will give someone else the courage to pursue adoption for themselves, or maybe it will just help dispel some of the adoption myths that are out there. I'll do my best to be open about even the personal details for this reason, so hopefully none of it seems like oversharing.
Our first step after finding a wonderful consultant to guide us through this unknown territory is to complete our home study. The home study is the process that allows a social worker to determine if we are fit to be adoptive parents, so it's a pretty big deal. And intimidating! It includes that mountain of paperwork I mentioned before, background checks, home visits, interviews, medical evaluations, fingerprints, and copies of pretty much every important document we have ever possessed. They will evaluate our home to see if it is safe enough and clean enough (Is there such a thing?! I'm just going to bleach everything non-porous and scrub everything else to be on the safe side.), which makes me anxious. And the idea of someone else looking into our lives to see if we meet their standard is pretty scary. The very thought of it makes me feel inadequate, even though I can't think of a good reason for them to turn us down. Neither of us have a criminal history or anything, and we have 2 walking, talking bits of evidence that we can be decent parents. But still...!
Darling was on leave this past week, so he took advantage of his time off to finally finish painting our bathroom and updating the light switches and outlet covers (they were that horrid "almond" color before, so his handy self changed them to the much crisper-looking white). I delayed our homeschooling a few hours one day in order to bleach the grout on our kitchen floor. I think it's safe to say we are in full-on nesting mode.
Since we have already invested close to $3000 into this process and have another $1500 or so coming up for the home study, we need to figure out a plan to pay for the whole thing. Once we (hopefully!) pass the home study, our family profile will be shown to prospective birth parents. Our remaining expenses will depend on who we get matched with, as some might have more medical expenses, etc. than others. From what I've read so far, this can be in the $20,000-$30,000 range, but I guess we will find out for sure soon. And of course, we will most likely have to travel to get our baby, which will be another undetermined amount we will be surprised with later. Thankfully, we have a decent amount of savings, but some of that will probably have to go toward our move next year, especially if we can't sell our house first. There are adoption grants that we will be applying for, tax credits that we can take advantage of after the fact, and even low-to-no interest loans that we will use as a last resort. We also are taking advantage of Amazon's affiliate program to raise some money to cushion the blow as well. It allows Amazon shoppers to make their purchases as usual, but a percentage of the purchase will go to our adoption fund!
A lot of people have negative things to say about the high costs associated with adoption, and some even say it is basically "buying a child." While it saddens me that it costs more to adopt a child than it does to abort one, I understand the need to have intense screening processes (all costing money) and legal proceedings (again, more money) in order to protect the child and the families involved. If kids were adopted for the same price as a stray pet in a shelter, many of them would end up abused and neglected. I know that is still a possibility even now, but the extra costs and extensive steps probably deter a lot of ill-meaning people from adopting. I just wish it didn't deter so many good-intentioned people from adopting as well.
Darling was on leave this past week, so he took advantage of his time off to finally finish painting our bathroom and updating the light switches and outlet covers (they were that horrid "almond" color before, so his handy self changed them to the much crisper-looking white). I delayed our homeschooling a few hours one day in order to bleach the grout on our kitchen floor. I think it's safe to say we are in full-on nesting mode.
Since we have already invested close to $3000 into this process and have another $1500 or so coming up for the home study, we need to figure out a plan to pay for the whole thing. Once we (hopefully!) pass the home study, our family profile will be shown to prospective birth parents. Our remaining expenses will depend on who we get matched with, as some might have more medical expenses, etc. than others. From what I've read so far, this can be in the $20,000-$30,000 range, but I guess we will find out for sure soon. And of course, we will most likely have to travel to get our baby, which will be another undetermined amount we will be surprised with later. Thankfully, we have a decent amount of savings, but some of that will probably have to go toward our move next year, especially if we can't sell our house first. There are adoption grants that we will be applying for, tax credits that we can take advantage of after the fact, and even low-to-no interest loans that we will use as a last resort. We also are taking advantage of Amazon's affiliate program to raise some money to cushion the blow as well. It allows Amazon shoppers to make their purchases as usual, but a percentage of the purchase will go to our adoption fund!
A lot of people have negative things to say about the high costs associated with adoption, and some even say it is basically "buying a child." While it saddens me that it costs more to adopt a child than it does to abort one, I understand the need to have intense screening processes (all costing money) and legal proceedings (again, more money) in order to protect the child and the families involved. If kids were adopted for the same price as a stray pet in a shelter, many of them would end up abused and neglected. I know that is still a possibility even now, but the extra costs and extensive steps probably deter a lot of ill-meaning people from adopting. I just wish it didn't deter so many good-intentioned people from adopting as well.
Monday, August 4, 2014
A Special Announcement!
I've mentioned before that Darling and I had discussed the possibility of adoption, and decided to remain open to the idea of it "in the future." I recently finished reading The Spirit of Adoption: Winning the Battle for the Children
[affiliate link] by Randy Bohlender, which got me thinking about it even more. (It's a fantastic book, and I highly recommend reading it!) I guess my thinking about it more turned into talking about it more, because we soon reopened the discussion about whether or not adoption was right for us. While I had always envisioned adopting internationally, Darling had some valid concerns about it that made it seem like a good idea...but just not right now. After reading Bohlender's book, my heart was more open to the idea of domestic adoption, which is what Darling had been pushing for all along. I started doing more research into it, and we finally discovered that we were on the same page at last.
We recently contacted an adoption consultant to find out if pursuing adoption at this time is even possible with a strong likelihood of moving to a different state sometime next year. She answered our questions and gave us a better understanding of the whole thing, so WE ARE GOING TO ADOPT A BABY!!! (Sorry for "yelling", but I'm so flipping excited!!!)
Our first and most time-consuming step is the dreaded home study, where we submit a mountain of paperwork about ourselves and have home visits and interviews to determine if we are fit to adopt. (Please say yes!) Please keep us in your prayers during the coming months, as we deal with whatever challenges and financial hurdles that lay ahead. And don't forget to pray for the birth parents, as they probably have a lot of difficulties to deal with as well. ♥
[affiliate link] by Randy Bohlender, which got me thinking about it even more. (It's a fantastic book, and I highly recommend reading it!) I guess my thinking about it more turned into talking about it more, because we soon reopened the discussion about whether or not adoption was right for us. While I had always envisioned adopting internationally, Darling had some valid concerns about it that made it seem like a good idea...but just not right now. After reading Bohlender's book, my heart was more open to the idea of domestic adoption, which is what Darling had been pushing for all along. I started doing more research into it, and we finally discovered that we were on the same page at last. We recently contacted an adoption consultant to find out if pursuing adoption at this time is even possible with a strong likelihood of moving to a different state sometime next year. She answered our questions and gave us a better understanding of the whole thing, so WE ARE GOING TO ADOPT A BABY!!! (Sorry for "yelling", but I'm so flipping excited!!!)
Our first and most time-consuming step is the dreaded home study, where we submit a mountain of paperwork about ourselves and have home visits and interviews to determine if we are fit to adopt. (Please say yes!) Please keep us in your prayers during the coming months, as we deal with whatever challenges and financial hurdles that lay ahead. And don't forget to pray for the birth parents, as they probably have a lot of difficulties to deal with as well. ♥
Sunday, July 6, 2014
Help or Hindrance?
***The following post contains affiliate links. Using my links may give me a small commission. This will not affect your purchase price in any way.***
I've been reading a lot of books lately. I usually have 3 or 4 going at once, just to keep things interesting and to always have a book ready for any mood. Currently, I'm reading one about adoption, some Shakespeare, and Breaking Free
by Beth Moore. (I recently finished Ender's Game, and I'm still not sure what I think about it.)
Even though Beth Moore is a name I've heard about for years, it's only lately that I've started reading her books. I'm sort of kicking myself for it now, because I sure could have saved myself a lot of trouble if I'd gotten ahold of them sooner! Breaking Free has been especially helpful in addressing so many areas of my life, and I'm loving every chapter so much. In fact, I've found myself using the "highlight" option on my Kindle on entire pages at times! If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend it.
There are so many passages from the book I wish I could share with you here, but I'm sure there are copyright laws against that. Let me just say that its wisdom will help you no matter what you're going through or have been through. It's funny how good I thought I was doing until this book started convicting me! One of my favorite highlights from the book says this,
What Beth Moore book should I read next?
I've been reading a lot of books lately. I usually have 3 or 4 going at once, just to keep things interesting and to always have a book ready for any mood. Currently, I'm reading one about adoption, some Shakespeare, and Breaking Free
by Beth Moore. (I recently finished Ender's Game, and I'm still not sure what I think about it.) Even though Beth Moore is a name I've heard about for years, it's only lately that I've started reading her books. I'm sort of kicking myself for it now, because I sure could have saved myself a lot of trouble if I'd gotten ahold of them sooner! Breaking Free has been especially helpful in addressing so many areas of my life, and I'm loving every chapter so much. In fact, I've found myself using the "highlight" option on my Kindle on entire pages at times! If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend it.
There are so many passages from the book I wish I could share with you here, but I'm sure there are copyright laws against that. Let me just say that its wisdom will help you no matter what you're going through or have been through. It's funny how good I thought I was doing until this book started convicting me! One of my favorite highlights from the book says this,
God wants us to be victors. We don't become victors by conquering the enemy. We become victors through surrender to Christ. We don't become victors by our independence from the enemy. We become victors by our dependence on God.I don't know why that seems so revolutionary to me; maybe it's because I usually think I have to fight the whole battle myself, with God showing up as a reservist when I'm too tired to finish the fight. It's so good to be reminded that what the enemy does isn't something I have to worry about. It's God's job to defeat the enemy. It's my job to let Him. I wonder how many times I've gotten in His way during my futile attempts at "helping". I imagine it must look a lot like my little ones when they try to "help" me carry a heavy box or a trash bag that's bigger than they are. They end up being more of a hindrance than a help. If only they would let me do the heavy lifting and stick with the jobs I've asked them to do instead! (For the hundredth time, clean your room, dangit!)
What Beth Moore book should I read next?
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Nothing Good
I don't know how people get through the devastations of life without God. I don't know what they cling to, what keeps them going. Even with faith, it is hard to keep moving forward instead of sinking into the perpetual sadness and overwhelming depression. I imagine the suicide rate is high for those who have lost a baby or deal with infertility, because sometimes it feels like there is nothing left to live for.
Psalm 16 reminds us that we have much left to live for. We might have lost someone incredibly precious to us (or the dream of having someone precious to us), but we still have the one good thing that really matters. I regularly have to remind myself that having my babies here with me could not possibly be better than having God's will carried out in my life. It is during these moments that I have to cling to Him and trust in what I cannot see.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Retail Therapy {Stitch Fix}
***Warning! The following post includes a shameless plug to hopefully help me look more fashionable during the fall and winter seasons. I will do my best to make posts such as these rare!***
Retail therapy. Admit it, you're guilty of it too! I've recently discovered that when I'm particularly stressed or upset, my American tendency to stifle my emotions with more stuff certainly comes on strong. I once bought new shoes because the kids were misbehaving and Darling was in another state. Another time, I bought a FitBit because I felt like I was starting to look old and fat...and Darling was on duty. Darling bought a car because our baby was in the hospital and he was playing the role of Stay At Home Dad while I was away at the hospital. (Clearly we can't afford to be apart too often!)
My most recent "therapeutic expense" took place while Darling was on duty (*ahem*) and I was in an emotional slump brought on by the anniversary of when our baby had briefly come home. I was feeling the itch to shop, but all of my typical shopping websites (online shopping is my preferred method of retail therapy -- that way I can stay in my jammies if I feel like it) weren't giving up the goods I was looking for. Somehow, in typical internet fashion, I ended up nowhere near shopping sites and instead was reading my dear friend's blog. This friend always has something encouraging and inspiring to say, so her words were soothing my soul...and then I clicked my way through to a veeeery interesting post that I wasn't expecting. It was a post that introduced me to a new way to shop! (*squeal!*)
Stitch Fix is a way for us non-Hollywood types to get the benefits of having our clothes and accessories picked out for us by a fashion-savvy stylist. You start out by filling out a questionnaire about yourself and your tastes, put in your payment information for a $20 styling fee, and schedule when you want your "fix" (a delightful package of 5 hand-picked items from your stylist) to arrive. You also have the option to set up recurring fixes if you choose, but there's no subscription required or anything to cancel if you don't. Once your fix arrives, you have 3 days to try on the items and decide what you to keep and what to send back. The $20 styling fee gets deducted from your purchase total, but you lose it if you don't keep anything. If you keep all 5 items, you get a lovely 25% discount on the total price. If there's anything you don't want, you just put it into the included return packaging and plop it into the mail within those 3 days.
Of course, all that sounded absolutely fantastic to my sad, shopping-hungry self, so I nervously signed up for my first fix. I'd heard a lot of good things about it, so I was pretty confident I wouldn't lose my $20 styling fee. I was more afraid of liking too many things and spending far too much. And that's exactly what I did. My fix included two dresses (one a lacy/floral one and the other a casual stretchy one that I have no idea how to describe), a maxi skirt, a handbag, and a white flowy sleeveless top. The prices for the items ranged from $38 to $74, and of course my top 3 favorites were the most expensive items in the box. It actually worked out where it was less expensive to get all 5 things than just my 4 favorites (thanks to that 25% discount), and choosing only my top 3 favorites would have only been slightly less than that. So thank you, math, for justifying my summer wardrobe additions!
I'm really happy with my purchase, even though it's not something I can afford to do every month or two. Since my stylist did such a great job, I did set up my next fix later on this year to hopefully bring my fall/winter wardrobe up to date a bit. If you use my Stitch Fix referral link and sign up for your first retail therapy fix, I will get a $25 credit to use toward future purchases. Once you've signed up, you'll get your own referral link to share with your friends!
Retail therapy. Admit it, you're guilty of it too! I've recently discovered that when I'm particularly stressed or upset, my American tendency to stifle my emotions with more stuff certainly comes on strong. I once bought new shoes because the kids were misbehaving and Darling was in another state. Another time, I bought a FitBit because I felt like I was starting to look old and fat...and Darling was on duty. Darling bought a car because our baby was in the hospital and he was playing the role of Stay At Home Dad while I was away at the hospital. (Clearly we can't afford to be apart too often!)
My most recent "therapeutic expense" took place while Darling was on duty (*ahem*) and I was in an emotional slump brought on by the anniversary of when our baby had briefly come home. I was feeling the itch to shop, but all of my typical shopping websites (online shopping is my preferred method of retail therapy -- that way I can stay in my jammies if I feel like it) weren't giving up the goods I was looking for. Somehow, in typical internet fashion, I ended up nowhere near shopping sites and instead was reading my dear friend's blog. This friend always has something encouraging and inspiring to say, so her words were soothing my soul...and then I clicked my way through to a veeeery interesting post that I wasn't expecting. It was a post that introduced me to a new way to shop! (*squeal!*)
Stitch Fix is a way for us non-Hollywood types to get the benefits of having our clothes and accessories picked out for us by a fashion-savvy stylist. You start out by filling out a questionnaire about yourself and your tastes, put in your payment information for a $20 styling fee, and schedule when you want your "fix" (a delightful package of 5 hand-picked items from your stylist) to arrive. You also have the option to set up recurring fixes if you choose, but there's no subscription required or anything to cancel if you don't. Once your fix arrives, you have 3 days to try on the items and decide what you to keep and what to send back. The $20 styling fee gets deducted from your purchase total, but you lose it if you don't keep anything. If you keep all 5 items, you get a lovely 25% discount on the total price. If there's anything you don't want, you just put it into the included return packaging and plop it into the mail within those 3 days.
Of course, all that sounded absolutely fantastic to my sad, shopping-hungry self, so I nervously signed up for my first fix. I'd heard a lot of good things about it, so I was pretty confident I wouldn't lose my $20 styling fee. I was more afraid of liking too many things and spending far too much. And that's exactly what I did. My fix included two dresses (one a lacy/floral one and the other a casual stretchy one that I have no idea how to describe), a maxi skirt, a handbag, and a white flowy sleeveless top. The prices for the items ranged from $38 to $74, and of course my top 3 favorites were the most expensive items in the box. It actually worked out where it was less expensive to get all 5 things than just my 4 favorites (thanks to that 25% discount), and choosing only my top 3 favorites would have only been slightly less than that. So thank you, math, for justifying my summer wardrobe additions!
I'm really happy with my purchase, even though it's not something I can afford to do every month or two. Since my stylist did such a great job, I did set up my next fix later on this year to hopefully bring my fall/winter wardrobe up to date a bit. If you use my Stitch Fix referral link and sign up for your first retail therapy fix, I will get a $25 credit to use toward future purchases. Once you've signed up, you'll get your own referral link to share with your friends!
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
When We Compare
If you're anything like me, you most likely make a difficult situation even worse by donning a poor attitude to go with it. Mine tends to fluctuate between anger and an intense, mopey kind of sadness. I allow my emotions to cripple me and prevent me from even looking for the hope and joy that can always be found in any situation. I often do this through comparing myself and/or my circumstances to others.
If you look for it, you will certainly find at least one news story every day about a child who has been abused, abandoned, or brutally murdered -- often by their own parents. Then, if you dig a little deeper, you can find mind-blowing and heart-sickening statistics about how many unborn babies are killed each year through abortion. You can even look around you in your own circle of acquaintances, and I can guarantee you'd find at least one person who doesn't appreciate or deserve the child/children they have.
But all these people who don't want or don't deserve children still manage to have them, while we who so desperately wanted our babies did not get to keep them. It isn't fair. It hurts. And that sort of thinking only wedges the gap between ourselves now and ourselves as we could be. There will always be people who are more or less deserving than we are, and comparison will get us nowhere we want to go. When I start comparing, it only makes me feel worse and sort of plants me into my grief instead of letting God lead me through my grief and toward something better. He's the One in charge, not me. He's the One who knows how the story ends, and I have no right to tell Him what is or isn't fair.
"Comparison is the thief of joy." It's a common saying, often plastered all over Pinterest boards or cutesy wall-hangings available on Etsy, but it is one I don't heed enough. I can't change my circumstances. I can't bring my babies back. But I can honor their short lives by truly living my own, with joy and hope. Let others walk their own paths, as I do my best to try to be graceful and avoid stumbling along my own. Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding...
.
If you look for it, you will certainly find at least one news story every day about a child who has been abused, abandoned, or brutally murdered -- often by their own parents. Then, if you dig a little deeper, you can find mind-blowing and heart-sickening statistics about how many unborn babies are killed each year through abortion. You can even look around you in your own circle of acquaintances, and I can guarantee you'd find at least one person who doesn't appreciate or deserve the child/children they have.
But all these people who don't want or don't deserve children still manage to have them, while we who so desperately wanted our babies did not get to keep them. It isn't fair. It hurts. And that sort of thinking only wedges the gap between ourselves now and ourselves as we could be. There will always be people who are more or less deserving than we are, and comparison will get us nowhere we want to go. When I start comparing, it only makes me feel worse and sort of plants me into my grief instead of letting God lead me through my grief and toward something better. He's the One in charge, not me. He's the One who knows how the story ends, and I have no right to tell Him what is or isn't fair."Comparison is the thief of joy." It's a common saying, often plastered all over Pinterest boards or cutesy wall-hangings available on Etsy, but it is one I don't heed enough. I can't change my circumstances. I can't bring my babies back. But I can honor their short lives by truly living my own, with joy and hope. Let others walk their own paths, as I do my best to try to be graceful and avoid stumbling along my own. Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding...
.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Why Rainbows?
Why "In Pursuit of Rainbows"? I guess my blog's title could be rather misleading, since the term "rainbow baby" exists. A rainbow baby is a baby born after a miscarriage or loss, "the theory being that the beauty of the rainbow does not mean the storm and the devastation never happened, but that something beautiful and full of light has emerged from the darkness." (Original source of definition unknown.) I love that description, and I think it's wonderful when women get the opportunity to have and keep their rainbow babies.
This blog, however, isn't limited to the idea of adding that sort of rainbow to our family. (So don't get too excited, family and friends!) I'm not opposed to the idea, and I might actually use this blog as a way to record our adoption journey if that's where God leads us. My desire to be "in pursuit of rainbows" is actually to intentionally move through the storms and to consciously seek after God's will. Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him and have been called according to His purpose." That good, whatever form it may take, is the kind of rainbow I'm chasing. I want to want what He wants for me!
I love the lyrics to the hymn by George Matheson called "O Love that Will Not Let Me Go," and its sister hymn "It Is Well with My Soul" by Horatio G Spafford. Even though I'm not particularly fond of the typical organ-playing and dull tempos of hymns, the lyrics are often incredibly beautiful and have helped encourage me during the most challenging seasons of my life. In the modern fashion of creating new words by meshing two words together, I could say they're "hymnspirational." The line "I trace the rainbow through the rain" is what this blog is all about, as we long for when that morn shall tearless be!
I love the lyrics to the hymn by George Matheson called "O Love that Will Not Let Me Go," and its sister hymn "It Is Well with My Soul" by Horatio G Spafford. Even though I'm not particularly fond of the typical organ-playing and dull tempos of hymns, the lyrics are often incredibly beautiful and have helped encourage me during the most challenging seasons of my life. In the modern fashion of creating new words by meshing two words together, I could say they're "hymnspirational." The line "I trace the rainbow through the rain" is what this blog is all about, as we long for when that morn shall tearless be!
Friday, June 27, 2014
Adoption
So Darling and I had "The Talk" tonight. Well, one of many anyway. Perhaps you've had one like it -- you know, the one about adoption? For as long as I can remember (probably about the same time I was reading Louisa May Alcott's Little Men or Jo's Boys or some other orphan-themed book), I've wanted to adopt. My preferred method of adoption has changed through the years, from a domestic adopted-orphan-filled home (a la Plumfield) to special needs children from other countries, but adoption has clung to my heart just the same.
There's something almost magical about the idea of a family being brought together over huge distances. Strangers becoming relatives with a mountain of paperwork and wait times that would vex a saint. Children without parents filling the child-shaped hole in their adoptive parents' hearts. It's beautiful and heartwarming.
Adoption, like everything else, has a dark side as well. Every adoption begins with a loss, usually the loss of parents (or the abandonment by them) for the child. This can extend to the loss of their homeland and culture as well, depending on if and how they are adopted. And perhaps even more sadly, the number of children in need of adoptive families far outnumbers the families willing or able to adopt. I don't even want to know how many children age out of the system without ever having a permanent home or family to love them and guide them. If you ever need a good cry, look up the list of children waiting to be adopted in your area and slowly scroll through the photos of these precious, unclaimed kids.
Darling isn't much of a reader, which is probably why adoption was never something he really considered before I came into the picture. I will say he has become more open to the idea than when I first sprung the idea on him years ago, but it's still something he's hesitant about. I think his fears are the same ones that keep so many families from adopting; he wonders if he could really love someone else's child as his own. Could we really offer them something better than they could get with anyone else? How could we even afford it?
Even if we were to adopt, we wouldn't begin the actual process for at least another year. We will most likely be moving to a different state around then, and from what I've read, the process can change from state to state. And there's really no point in paying for a home study here when the child probably wouldn't ever live here anyway. So I guess "The Talk" basically resulted in the agreement to defer any definite action until we have a clearer picture of our near future. In the meantime, I've been praying about it a lot, crying over countless photos of waiting children, and trying to read up on whatever I can to get better prepared for the possibility.
If you have adopted (domestically or internationally) or are in the process of adoption, what resources have been the most help to you? Leave a comment to let me know!
There's something almost magical about the idea of a family being brought together over huge distances. Strangers becoming relatives with a mountain of paperwork and wait times that would vex a saint. Children without parents filling the child-shaped hole in their adoptive parents' hearts. It's beautiful and heartwarming.
Adoption, like everything else, has a dark side as well. Every adoption begins with a loss, usually the loss of parents (or the abandonment by them) for the child. This can extend to the loss of their homeland and culture as well, depending on if and how they are adopted. And perhaps even more sadly, the number of children in need of adoptive families far outnumbers the families willing or able to adopt. I don't even want to know how many children age out of the system without ever having a permanent home or family to love them and guide them. If you ever need a good cry, look up the list of children waiting to be adopted in your area and slowly scroll through the photos of these precious, unclaimed kids.
Darling isn't much of a reader, which is probably why adoption was never something he really considered before I came into the picture. I will say he has become more open to the idea than when I first sprung the idea on him years ago, but it's still something he's hesitant about. I think his fears are the same ones that keep so many families from adopting; he wonders if he could really love someone else's child as his own. Could we really offer them something better than they could get with anyone else? How could we even afford it?
Even if we were to adopt, we wouldn't begin the actual process for at least another year. We will most likely be moving to a different state around then, and from what I've read, the process can change from state to state. And there's really no point in paying for a home study here when the child probably wouldn't ever live here anyway. So I guess "The Talk" basically resulted in the agreement to defer any definite action until we have a clearer picture of our near future. In the meantime, I've been praying about it a lot, crying over countless photos of waiting children, and trying to read up on whatever I can to get better prepared for the possibility.
If you have adopted (domestically or internationally) or are in the process of adoption, what resources have been the most help to you? Leave a comment to let me know!
At the Beginning
I thought it would be nice to share a little backstory of why this blog crept into the blogosphere amongst the millions of others out there written by far better writers with much more to say.
When I was a little girl, I had every intention of growing up and becoming a mother to either three or five adorable, smart, and well-behaved children (hahahahahaa!). Before too many years had passed, Darling and I were well on our way to fulfilling that dream with two squishy-cheeked little ones and a positive pregnancy test in my shaking hand. This is it! I thought. I'm getting exactly what I wanted! But a week later, the bleeding started, and my time as a mother to three was already over.
Not long after that, I cautiously became excited to once again see that second pink line appear. I was determined to love this baby with all my heart, because I knew too well that this life could also end abruptly. The first half of the pregnancy went well and without complications, but our 20 week ultrasound and subsequent testing revealed our precious baby had a very serious heart defect. It felt like my own heart was broken, knowing the possibility of losing another loved baby was even greater now. He did great during his first heart surgery and recovered quickly enough to come home less than a month later, but was quickly readmitted to the hospital and faced yet another major heart surgery. He died of complications the following day.
Several months later, we were once again surprised by a positive pregnancy test. I think I was more optimistic this time than I had ever been before, because I'd already lived through the unthinkable loss of an infant and a baby I never even got to see. Surely I'd been through enough, and things were going to work out the way I wanted them to this time. But once again, a week later, a blood test confirmed we had lost our baby.
I don't know if there's a way to accurately describe what it feels like to have more children in Heaven than within arm's reach. I'm pretty certain the nonchalant "How many children do you have?" question fills me with more dread than any other. And sometimes, I ask God what I have done so horrible to deserve this. Basically, I host a little pity-party and whine, Why me?! I imagine I'm not alone in those feelings, which is the main reason this blog has come into existence. In our loneliest, most heartbreaking moments, I think we all need a reminder that we really aren't alone. If you've experienced infertility, miscarriage, stillbirth, infant or child loss, this is for you. Someone, somewhere knows what we are going through. We can't give up.
In a way, I guess you could say my dreams came true. I delivered and named three beautiful children; I've technically been a mother to five. And while I love my two living children so much that it hurts, it still feels like something -- like someone -- is missing from our family. I know there are three who will always be missing pieces of our lives, but it seems like there should still be someone here to fill that role. I'm not quite sure if this desire will ever be fulfilled by adoption or another biological child, but I do know that every storm is followed by a beautiful rainbow. I'm learning to trust the One who holds me through the storms, the One who will lead me to the rainbows.
When I was a little girl, I had every intention of growing up and becoming a mother to either three or five adorable, smart, and well-behaved children (hahahahahaa!). Before too many years had passed, Darling and I were well on our way to fulfilling that dream with two squishy-cheeked little ones and a positive pregnancy test in my shaking hand. This is it! I thought. I'm getting exactly what I wanted! But a week later, the bleeding started, and my time as a mother to three was already over.
Not long after that, I cautiously became excited to once again see that second pink line appear. I was determined to love this baby with all my heart, because I knew too well that this life could also end abruptly. The first half of the pregnancy went well and without complications, but our 20 week ultrasound and subsequent testing revealed our precious baby had a very serious heart defect. It felt like my own heart was broken, knowing the possibility of losing another loved baby was even greater now. He did great during his first heart surgery and recovered quickly enough to come home less than a month later, but was quickly readmitted to the hospital and faced yet another major heart surgery. He died of complications the following day.
Several months later, we were once again surprised by a positive pregnancy test. I think I was more optimistic this time than I had ever been before, because I'd already lived through the unthinkable loss of an infant and a baby I never even got to see. Surely I'd been through enough, and things were going to work out the way I wanted them to this time. But once again, a week later, a blood test confirmed we had lost our baby.
In a way, I guess you could say my dreams came true. I delivered and named three beautiful children; I've technically been a mother to five. And while I love my two living children so much that it hurts, it still feels like something -- like someone -- is missing from our family. I know there are three who will always be missing pieces of our lives, but it seems like there should still be someone here to fill that role. I'm not quite sure if this desire will ever be fulfilled by adoption or another biological child, but I do know that every storm is followed by a beautiful rainbow. I'm learning to trust the One who holds me through the storms, the One who will lead me to the rainbows.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Privacy Policy
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At inpursuitofrainbows.blogspot.com, we recognize that privacy of your personal information is important. Below is information on what types of personal information we receive and collect when you use and visit inpursuitofrainbows.blogspot.com, and how we safeguard your information. We will never sell your personal information to third parties.
Log Files
As with most other websites, we collect and use the data contained in log files. The information in the log files include your IP (internet protocol) address, your ISP (internet service provider, such as AOL), the browser you used to visit our site (such as Internet Explorer or Firefox), the time you visited our site and which pages you visited throughout our site.
Cookies and Web Beacons
We do use cookies to store information, such as your personal preferences when you visit our site. This could include only showing you a popup once in your visit, or the ability to login to some of our features, such as forums.
We also use third party advertisements on heatherishis.blogspot.com to support our site. Some of these advertisers may use technology such as cookies and web beacons when they advertise on our site, which will also send these advertisers (such as Google through the Google AdSense program) information including your IP address, your ISP , the browser you used to visit our site, and in some cases, whether you have Flash installed. This is generally used for geotargeting purposes (showing New York real estate ads to someone in New York, for example) or showing certain ads based on specific sites visited (such as showing cooking ads to someone who frequents cooking sites).
DoubleClick DART Cookies
We also may use DART cookies for ad serving through Google’s DoubleClick, which places a cookie on your computer when you are browsing the web and visit a site using DoubleClick advertising (including some Google AdSense advertisements). This cookie is used to serve ads specific to you and your interests ("interest based targeting"). The ads served will be targeted based on your previous browsing history (For example, if you have been viewing sites about visiting Las Vegas, you may see Las Vegas hotel advertisements when viewing a non-related site, such as on a site about hockey). DART uses "non personally identifiable information". It does NOT track personal information about you, such as your name, email address, physical address, telephone number, social security numbers, bank account numbers or credit card numbers. You can opt-out of this ad serving on all sites using this advertising by visiting http://www.doubleclick.com/privacy/dart_adserving.aspx
You can choose to disable or selectively turn off our cookies or third-party cookies in your browser settings, or by managing preferences in programs such as Norton Internet Security. However, this can affect how you are able to interact with our site as well as other websites. This could include the inability to login to services or programs, such as logging into forums or accounts.
Deleting cookies does not mean you are permanently opted out of any advertising program. Unless you have settings that disallow cookies, the next time you visit a site running the advertisements, a new cookie will be added.
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