"I, yes I, am the One who comforts you," says the Lord.
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.
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