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.

(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)

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.

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...

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What We Need

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

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.