Five More Days! (But Who's Counting?)

Somehow I got a few things accomplished today.  Laundry, dishes, office work.  Even went to the gym to work out (only to find they were closed) and then grabbed some dinner.  We watched a little television, but mostly we talked about the big day.

Today we received yet more positive news from our agency.  This has been an amazing week when it comes to good news!  I find myself constantly giving thanks to God.  I pray each night, but now I pray at any given time during the day.  I'm just completely filled with gratitude.

When we were 67 days into the wait, after we'd been matched, I found a countdown app for my phone.  Now I look at it and cannot imagine how time has passed so quickly.  It absolutely didn't feel that way at the time.  In truth the slowest part of our process was waiting to be matched.  And in fairness, we were only waiting for 2 months when the match came through.  Still, when you've waited to become a family for your entire adult life...2 months can feel like 2 years.  No matter.  Now we are here. 

We wish all of our family and friends a blessed New Year's Eve celebration and an incredible AMAZING start to 2015, and may that last the whole year through.

Six Days to Go!

I assumed that this week would go by quickly because I have a lot to do.  I assumed incorrectly.

I've been working on a few projects, some of them time sensitive, and that tends to make time speed up.  Yet nothing can throw off your internal clock like waiting for a momentous event.  Last night I watched a movie, then got restless and turned it off.  I surfed the internet for a while, watched more television, more internet, etc.  I wanted to sleep in but I was wide awake bright and early this morning.  I did some office work and figured it would be close to noon by then.  No such luck.  I took a shower.  I put away Christmas decor.  At lunch time I decided to watch some more television as a distraction, but if anything it just made me more anxious.  When hubby got home from work, I cooked dinner and even treated myself to some ice cream.  (Sugar can't hurt, right?)  Then back to baby's room I went, reorganizing.  I've sterilized bottles, repacked (probably no less than ten times) and almost completely redesigned her clothing storage.  I received a jewelry box for Christmas so I spent time on that.  Back to baby's room.  I wrote messages in many of her books so she knows who sent what.  I even read a few of her books to one of her ultrasound pictures.  I know.  It seems silly.  But right now, it's my way of connecting to her.  I feel that God is getting the messages across.

It's 10pm now and I'm going to watch some more television and hopefully fall asleep earlier than I did last night.  Tomorrow is New Year's eve.  Five whole days from our daughter's arrival.  Hubby is beyond anxious.  He is a nervous wreck.  We both are.  We are trying to stay busy.  I'm surprised he can get anything done at the office.  It's just so overwhelming. 

When we began our adoption journey I told everyone that I would write a book about the experience once our child was home.  I'm more determined than ever to do that.  So many things we have learned.  So much more to learn in the future.

Monday seems light years away, but remind me of that Sunday night.  I guarantee we'll be WIDE AWAKE!

"Good Feeling Times"

Lately we feel very tired.  When your emotions are stretched in a hundred directions, it has the curious effect of draining your physical energy.  It's not necessarily a bad thing.  It's just something we are dealing with every day as we approach our daughter's homecoming.

Today we sat in the doctor's office with Holly, and for our first time ever, watched our baby move.  Hearing their heartbeat is a surreal experience.  Seeing their face, tiny hands and feet in real time...that's something that truly does defy description.  It's like something holds all of your words inside of you, deep inside of you, and you wonder if you will ever find your voice again.  It doesn't seem to matter in that moment, because nothing could explain how you feel.  I covered my mouth with my hands.  I just stared.  We both did.  We were wide eyed and mesmerized. 

This was one of those days where good news was plentiful.  Good news about baby, good news from the agency, good news from a friend, good news from our family.  That's such an incredible feeling.

When I was a little girl and things were going very well, I took a mental "snapshot" of the moment.  I called them my "Good Feeling Times".  Then later when I was sick or scared, I would ask God if I could use one of my saved feelings.  Some would chalk it up to nothing more than an imaginative child, but the truth is it always seemed to work.  Placebo effect?  Doesn't really matter either way.  All I know is...right now I feel as though I'm storing an endless amount of those good feeling times.  I want to share them with those I know and love, and most assuredly, with our daughter. 

Our Shining Star

Tonight we are feeling a mixture of nervous energy, anticipation and general anxiety.  To put it mildly, our nerves are frayed.  It's par for the course.  In some respects, adoption may be easier because we don't have the physical pain and discomfort associated with pregnancy or delivery.  At the same time, adoption is still fraught with unknowns that make it just as worrisome as carrying a child.  In both cases, you are out of control.  You pray for the very best and keep your faith strong.

I'm not particularly worried about being a good mom.  I'm a bit worried about being a good parent.  A mom is something far more personal, more intimate.  A parent issues rules, has requirements, monitors behavior.  A mother and/or father offers unconditional love.  We may not follow the same guidelines we were given, but I have no lack of faith in our ability to provide a nurturing space.  As I told our adoption trainer, I'll probably have a problem with holding our daughter too much.  She laughed and said I had nothing to worry about.  Adopted children - infants included - need to be held often.  They need to establish a strong bond with their new family.  Our baby won't have a biological attachment to us, but we pray in due time she will recognize our faces and voices as the two people who have prayed for her since before she was created.

A few nights ago I was reading up on the observable universe.  What we can see is just as baffling as what lies beyond.  I guess it's a lot like the future.  The unknown doesn't have to be frightening.  The unknown can hold true wonder, joy and bliss.  Why should we assume otherwise?  More importantly, why would we ever choose to assume otherwise?

It's incredible to think that about nine months ago, there was a glimmer in the heavens that was intended for us.  And this time next week, we will be packing our car so we can leave bright and early the next morning...to bring our star home with us forever.  

Lantern's Glow

Today is the eve of Christmas eve.  I spent the afternoon curled up on the couch with our cats, watching Cinderella.  I didn't watch it much as a child, but as an adult I saw it many times with my nephews.  It was a favorite in their house.  Cartoons of that era had real depth.  I've grown to appreciate the classic animation and the subtle variation of light and dark.

There is something to be said for darkness.  It can seem suffocating.  It can seem endless.  But by contrast, the light is much stronger.  The light seems to hold more power.  In fact, I know it does.  We've all gone through our periods of darkness and confusion.  Then when the light returns, and it always does in some fashion, it recharges us in every aspect.

Winter is a dark season.  Yet for those of my faith, the celebration of an infinite spark of light provides sustenance during those difficult days. I'm excited for Christmas and for the priceless gift we will receive in the days to follow.  Our baby is the best present we could ever, ever imagine.

We received a very positive bit of news today regarding our adoption, and then tonight Holly let us know that the results from her last doctor's visit came back excellent.

I feel like a lantern glowing brighter and brighter with each day.

Christmas Spirit

I've always loved Christmas, but the past few years have been a bit solemn.  There is always much to be thankful for.  It's just that on this holiday more than any other, our lost loved ones seem to haunt our reverie.  Maybe it's because Christmas is a time of drawing together when so much of our modern lifestyles insist on separation and independence.

My mom has always gone all out when it comes to decorations.  Dad would be perfectly content with a small tree or perhaps a wreath on the front door.  Mom has always had other notions.  Our staircase was adorned with festive stuffed animals (on each step, no less) and bright red velvet bows draped room to room.  The tree couldn't have enough lights.  Just not a possibility.  The trees outside were no different, and mom would enlist dad's help to hang blue icicles from the eaves.  As a child I absolutely loved this.  As an adult, I miss it.

Christmas felt safe somehow.  Safe in the sense that my family was whole.  Nothing could touch us.  Despite any bickering or strife heard throughout the year, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins all seemed to get along.  At my aunt's house, laughter could be heard as soon as your feet hit the snow outside the car.  The smell of her famous Italian Christmas Eve dinner flooded the air and greeted you at the front door.  The fireplace was lit so the house was remarkably warm, there were far too many people in the kitchen, voices carried over other voices so getting a word in was difficult at best...and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Change is inevitable and not necessarily bad.  Still, it can hurt.  My uncle was taken from us without warning.  Family moved away.  Kids grew up.  Grandpa died, grandma ended up in a nursing home.  Divorce.  More loss.  More distance.

But isn't life cyclical?  The holidays seem busy and full, then more quiet and subdued.  Then the pattern repeats.  Each new life, each grandchild, niece, nephew and babe reinvigorates us and our desire to celebrate.

I miss my grandparents, all of them, and I miss the innocence of youth.  But now the baton has been passed to my husband and I.  I want our daughter to know those same sights, sounds and emotions but in an entirely new and special way.  Her way.  I want her to run down the stairs, eyes still foggy with sleep, to see the gifts Santa has waiting.   More importantly, I need to know that she will hold times like these close to her when life is difficult.  And it will be.  Something no parent can completely protect us from.

Today I did some more decorating and rather than get teary eyed (which is my typical routine) I smiled.  I listened to Gene Autry and lit candles.  I felt a happiness permeate my being.  It's something I've not felt...maybe since childhood.  And now it's because my memories are merging with my hopes for our baby.

I definitely feel Christmas inside my heart.

Tiny Toes

We took the official hospital tour. 

As we walked down each corridor, this dawning realization hit me.  This is really happening.  The nurses were extremely kind and congratulatory.  We learned where we will stay, how the delivery will unfold and how baby gets to stay in our room with us.  That itself was amazing news. 

Then we turned down another hallway and approached the transition nursery.  Peering through the glass we saw the very reason families everywhere struggle for years through fertility treatments, uncertainty, basal charts, foster care, adoption and any other possible method of becoming parents - a tiny, newborn baby.

Baby was bundled up save for his small, delicate feet.  He was calm, observing the nurse standing at his side.  I stared at him with wide eyed wonder.  A few moments later, a woman in a hospital gown shuffled out of the nursery with baby at her side.  She looked exhausted, uncomfortable.....and unbelievably happy.  We congratulated her and she smiled widely. 

At one point we heard a scream echo down the hall.  This scream was one of pain and anxiety.  It was easy to tell what that sound meant.  The nurses at the station told me to ignore those yells, and I simply smiled and said I was adopting so someone else was going to experience that on my behalf.  They all laughed.  Still, it was another strong reminder..This is really happening.

The appointment went smoothly.  Every question was answered, every concern addressed.  The hospital is beautiful and well appointed.  Everything has been arranged and scheduled.  We are to arrive two hours prior to the delivery.  One nurse pointed out several vending machines and a refrigerator where we can keep our own food, but to be honest it was the last thing I could consider.  On that morning I will be frantic.  Food will be my last concern.  Once our daughter is safely in our arms and we can officially begin our lives together, then I will worry about everything else.  At that point I'll likely be famished.

Before we left, we stopped by the doctor's office where Holly was getting her latest check up.  As we walked in the doctor smiled at us and said, "Hi mom and dad!"  We just looked at each other.  I think it's the first time in our lives we've truly felt the weight of those words.  In just over two weeks, we really will be mom and dad.

 

Good Vibes

I sipped hot chocolate and felt the warmth travel through my body.  It matched the warmth I already felt inside.  Today was a good day.  The kind of December day that really makes you appreciate the subtleties of winter and all it has to offer.    A day of family, of sights and experiences.

This evening I texted Holly and within minutes my phone rang.  She had been thinking of me too.  We had a wonderful conversation about an upcoming doctor's visit and getting to meet her family.  I think it will reassure them and in all likelihood it will reassure us as well.  Baby's arrival is so close now.  It doesn't consume my every thought.  It's just always there in the background...like a soundtrack to our lives.

It's funny.  I guess I thought as this adoption progressed, I'd have more and more to say.  I'd ramble on about my emotions, I'd wax philosophical about my dreams and wishes.  In truth I find that as time goes by, I have less to say.  I simply feel more.  I want to continue writing because so many amazing people are following our journey and offering us support and love.  I don't want anyone to feel left out of this experience.  I guess it comes down to...no news is good news!  And truthfully, lately, our updates have been very positive and we feel extremely optimistic about everything.  I know some folks are probably still concerned that we are too optimistic.  I just ask that they try to understand one irrefutable fact:  We have to remain positive in order to expect positive results.  I mean to me, that really is fact.  We need to feel and express the outcome we truly desire.

 

Better and Better

Today Holly called a few times.  There have been more positive updates and our plans are underway.  I believe now, more than ever, that baby is coming much sooner than we originally planned.  Just a feeling inside.  Holly thinks as much too.

I feel very light and full of good energy.  We have family coming to visit us and that's great in itself, let alone all the other good news we've had lately.  It's hard to believe it's almost mid December!  But our life has been very active lately and staying busy is good.

I'm still pretty amazed at how perfectly things are falling into place.  This adoption has definitely had its challenges.  I'd venture to say that all adoptions do.  Still, it's been easier than we ever dreamed.  I pray that it continues move at this pace and that everything works together for a wonderful outcome.  The anxiety and fear I felt a week ago has been replaced by genuine joy.

I remember when I looked forward to the day when I could announce that we'd been matched.  Now I look forward to the day when I can post "She is home!"  Now though, I enjoy every moment in between.  My husband and I are still a twosome for a short while.  One day soon that will change.  We are blessed now and will be blessed then.  All is good!

Hopeful News

Just a tiny update...

This afternoon Holly called with some really promising news.  She wanted to ask my feelings about an issue regarding the birth, and I truly appreciated knowing she wanted our opinion on the matter.  For the protection of the adoption I won't go into what she said, but it's something that has actually given us a lot of relief today.   Just another positive step towards what is best for all involved.  Holly also mentioned that she is beginning to dilate.  We know that we could quite literally get this call at any time and that just adds to our excitement!

I think I've folded and refolded baby's clothes for the tenth time.  Her room is so filled with light and love.  I've said that many times as well, but I can't express just how much I love being in there.  I see us being in there very soon, the three of us.  I daydream about it all the time.

Getting SO close!!

On Your Mark...

This weekend was beyond emotional.

My mother-in-law fell, ended up in the ER twice and while this was going on we got a call that our baby was quite conceivably on her way.  I was nothing short of incredulous.  Babies come early all the time, but I guess my mind didn't consider just how early ours might arrive.  It's certainly exciting to think of a Christmas gift like no other.  At the same time, we truly want our child to have as much time in utero as possible.  That world is safe, warm and nurturing for her still developing brain.  Women do safely deliver after 28 weeks, but before 37 is considered preterm and in a perfect world it's not the scenario you would choose.  As it turned out, baby was just giving us a reality check.  She and Holly are both safe and healthy.  We are tremendously thankful.  We are also grateful to know that when the call does come, we can race around our house like no one's business!  Everything was at the front door within minutes.  Bags, clothes, bottles, car seat, diapers, phone chargers, wallets, you name it.  We've got this.

Today there is an enormous sigh of relief.  My mother-in-law, someone who would give a stranger a kidney if they needed one, is doing much better after her fall.  She will heal in a few months time.  For me the hardest part wasn't a concern for her health - I knew she was going to be ok.  My concern was her fear and my husband's sadness.  He felt so completely vulnerable watching his mom go through this, not even two years after her last major injury, and it about wiped him out emotionally.  To know that in the midst of this our birth mother may suddenly be going into labor?  The look on his face was pure panic.  But God is good.  We gathered our wits and figured things out.  This morning mom is much better, more rested and more hydrated.  Our baby is still in the womb and her birth mother is healthy.  Two enormous blessings.

We are also very fortunate to have dear family and friends who will quite literally be at your side in a moments notice.  Something not everyone can say.

Last night I took the baby bags back to baby's room.  It's funny but I feel as though maybe I'm already acting like a mom.  Back in April when our adoption adventure first began, the thought of having an early delivery would have been thrilling.  I'm nothing if not impatient.  But last night, though we would have welcomed her with open arms, the practical side of me kicked in.  I knew that though most of her organs are fully formed, the extra time gaining weight and developing her brain would be truly beneficial.  So as much as we want her here, we'd rather have her here safe and sound.  A Christmas baby would be wonderful, but she is still a miracle to us...no matter her birthday.

  

5 Weeks...

This is a curious day.  I didn't sleep much last night and this morning I caught up a bit, but for the most part I'm rather foggy headed.  I had a lot on my mind.  I still do.

The adoption is moving along and things are going well.  It's not that anything has changed.  It's just that as we get closer to baby day, I'm reviewing some long held beliefs and notions about life.  About people in general.  I've been both impressed and extremely disenchanted.  Sometimes I will get a wonderfully refreshing response from someone, and other times my expectations have been drastically fractured.

I can lament for days about how people "should" act and speak to others, but it's irrelevant and it's my own opinion.  We already know the saying about opinions.

All I know is that we are 10000% ready for our child to be here.  This becomes more and more true with every passing second.  Ready to hold her, smell her, kiss her, sing to her, read to her, stare at her...basically drive the child looney with our attention.  But still it's fueled by nothing more than love.

As for all the other stuff...it's just that.  Stuff.  I'm actually irritated with myself for being irritated with details.  Does that make sense?  After a fashion you just get tired of being frustrated.  For what?  To what end?  How long can you allow yourself to get worked up about things that, in the whole scheme of things, don't matter?  I'm a perfectionist and it's something I desperately want to change.  Nothing in this world is perfect.  Well...almost nothing.

This Sunday I will be worship leader at church, and I find that when I read to the congregation, I seem to pay greater attention to the words.  In expressing them I am absorbing them.  And as fate would have it, this coming reading comes from Matthew 7:1-5...

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. ² For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
³ “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? ⁴ How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? ⁵ You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

I've got plenty of my own sawdust to deal with.  Real and imagined.  I can't control what other people say, do or feel.  I can only control my response. Right now I choose to respond with a smile.  I don't have to understand them.  

It's a terribly tired cliche, but I feel something like a jigsaw puzzle.  The pieces are all here, it's not that any are missing.  It's just that I can't quite fit everything in just yet.  And though I'm not pregnant myself I seem to have vicariously acquired "pregnancy brain". It's just a mixture of anxiety, nervousness, happiness, hopefulness, fatigue and a few other assorted emotions thrown in for good measure.  

Busy Days

It seems ironic that now that we are so close to our baby being here, I'm actually paying less attention to the calendar.  Oh I definitely glance at my phone each morning and see the official countdown ticker dropping number by number...it's in the back of my mind at any given time.  But the good news is that this month is so busy for our family, it doesn't give us as much time to obsess about the time. Church is particularly active this month and we have several visits coming up with Holly.  We see her this week and then before Christmas we will see her again.  My nephew is flying in for about five days, we are planning our official baby shower, the list goes on.  It's really good to have so many other things to focus on.  I feel like before we know it..it will be the day.  The best day of our lives thus far.

If I could visit myself this time last year, I would so want to whisper into my ear..."Be patient.  In just over a year you will be parents!"  But the truth is, we weren't meant to know.  We had more growing to do as a couple and as adults.  I have learned things about myself this year. I've learned things about my husband.  One thing is for sure...I've fallen in love with him ten times over again.

We are so excited to see Holly this week.  We will create our official contact arrangement (not legally binding but still a guideline) and then in a few weeks take the official hospital tour.  It's all coming together beautifully.

Staying Centered

Lately we've had an absolute rush of activity around us.  Since April of this year everything in our lives has centered on one focus - adoption.  We've been riding on a wave of countless forms, background checks, certifications, classes, interviews and statements and by the beginning of October we landed (abruptly) at the feet of a woman who somehow chose us out of many potential families.  It was our prayer to be sure, something we prayed for for so long...but when that call came, we were incredulous.  Now we've had an online shower for long distance friends and another is in the works for family and friends who can join us locally.  Our baby's room went from a sage green guest room/office to a sea blue nursery filled with colorful farm animals and a rainbow of tiny, delicate clothes and stuffed animals.  We have two car seats, diaper bags, books, formula, diapers and all the requisite newborn items.  Everything that can be in place at this point in time, is.  And so maybe it was inevitable that last night, I lost it.

I walked into the nursery and glanced at a row of shiny peach baby hangers perched on the rail of the crib.  There is nothing inherently threatening about baby hangers, but all of a sudden these seemingly innocuous items hit me like a ton of bricks.  In about one month and one week, our child will be here.  It won't be the two of us anymore.  Everything about our lives is about to change always and in all ways.  A surge of panic raised through me and I began to cry.  It's as though it all came out at once.  All the fears, the excitement, the uncertainty, the hopes...everything that comes with becoming a new parent.  I sat in the nursery, in the dark, and cried until I was breathless.  Will we be ok?  Will I be a good mom?  Will our marriage change?  Will friendships change?  Will our child even like us?  Will I make huge mistakes?  For 30+ years I have waited for this and now that it's looming before us like the sun, I felt very small and very scared.

I'm not sure why this happened when it did, but I guess it's not unusual.  The good thing is I was able to calm down.  I was able to breathe and refocus.  We will make mistakes as parents.  That's a given.  But it's all part of the experience.  I need to take one moment at a time.  Rome wasn't built in a day.

Thanksgiving

I've often wondered why we select one day of the year to be thankful.  Yet some years it has made sense to me.  When bogged down in sadness or anger, it can be difficult if not impossible to see any light.  There can seem very little to be thankful for.  But God does have His way.  At almost 40 I've finally realized there is little sense in trying to figure out the how, when or why.  I'm just grateful that my dreams are coming true now.  Yesterday was a lesson to get me to today.

Holly sent us the most beautiful message.  It was a holiday wish, but more than that, it was a reminder that this time next year we will have an extra seat at the table.  She said that she is thankful for us, and that means more than I can say.  We are so incredibly thankful for her, her courage and compassion too.

Today the country is in a state of unrest.  Fighting and riots, emotional turmoil.  I hope somehow peace will find its way back.  I pray that our baby can grow up in a world of kindness.  I know that's a tall order.  Still, we will do our very best to make sure that at least her immediate world is filled with love.  Hate begets hate.  Violence begets violence.  Nothing is ever solved that way.  Yet despite this noise, I am filled with gratitude and hope for the future.

Warm Fuzzies

When I was young, my father's company collected "Warm Fuzzies".  They are tiny balls of fluff with big eyes and feet, and they typically have an attached satin ribbon bearing words of wisdom.  Dad's had company slogans, but most often they came with encouraging statements.  They were supposed to be a visual representation of the feeling you get from happy thoughts.  I know...I'm kind of beating a metaphor here.

Anyway, today we took one of our furkids to the vet and while there the subject of our adoption came up.  Our vet was unabashedly happy for us.  I mean it was kind of surprising just how happy he was at hearing the news.  Maybe it's because of our very real love for our cats, but he told us over and over how we are going to make "wonderful parents."  You might think that wouldn't be an overly moving sentiment coming from our veterinarian.  (Then again, if you think that, you don't know us very well.)  This man knows how much we cherish our boys.  They are our family.  So to hear his excitement meant an awful lot to us.  (Plus he offered advice as he and his wife just had their first baby last year!)

Now I'm thinking of those Warm Fuzzies and how lately we are feeling so very much that way.   We gets words of support, love and encouragement.  We have people in our life whom we haven't even known that long, treating us like their very own.  We are all family.  Biology is no indicator of closeness.  We are living that now, and when our baby is in our arms, we will know it in a new and miraculous way.

Excitement Grows

Each day feels like Christmas.  We keep getting more and more gifts in the mail from friends out of our state, even out of our country!  Our baby is so incredibly loved by so many people.  It's a feeling that is incomparable for me.

Tomorrow is another doctor's appointment.  I'm always anxious on the way, and then once there, hearing that rhythmic sound...it's almost meditative.  It's calming and reassuring.  The last time we heard her heartbeat, we realized that we were sitting there with our child.  It's kind of surreal when you think of it that way.

Tonight I put away more onesies, sleepers and unbelievably tiny socks.  The room is so colorful, warm and bright.  I go in there several times a day and at night I spend quite a bit of time just sitting there, looking around.  This time I turned off the light and prayed.  I pray that Holly is healthy, that our baby is strong, that the adoption goes exactly as we intend and plan.  Most of all I can't wait to hold her.  I can't even imagine how that will feel.  So many years of crying, praying, begging...wondering what we were doing wrong.  Wondering if it would ever happen.  And now we are just 6 weeks away from bringing her home forever.

God is good AMAZING.

A Day of Celebrating

This weekend we enjoyed an amazing online baby shower.  Friends from all over gathered to share words, love and what turned out to be a day of laughter and sunshine.  It was such an incredible event.  Our baby has more aunts and uncles than I have ever realized!

Last night I reflected on how far we've come.  This entire process started in April, and here we are now, so close to baby's arrival.  People warned us that adoption could take years and years - for many it has.  In our case it has been much faster.  In fact, it will be about the length of a pregnancy!  From start to finish.  So we could not be more thankful.  I express thanks each night in my prayers.

Baby has another appointment this week so will get to hear their heartbeat again.  That's such a meaningful experience.  One day soon we will hold baby close and hear that heartbeat ear to chest.  What an unbelievable day that will be.

I pray I will be a good mother.  If we are half the parents our parents are, this child will be in wonderful care.

Feeling extraordinarily grateful.

 

Trust

I am deciding to have complete faith in this adoption process.  Originally I was hesitant.  I was cautious.  I believed that too much trust would just lead to hurt or disappointment.  To an extent, that is always a possibility in life.  But this morning I am looking at things in a new way...

I've spent the better part of 39 years being afraid of many, many things.  My own shadow.  Debt.  Failure.  Betrayal.  Abandonment.  Loss.  Shame.  Guilt.  The list goes on and on.  I've been afraid of letting people down and of being let down.  Afraid of hoping for the best and then not being  prepared for the worst.  And more than anything, I've been afraid of the worst.

So what exactly is the worst?  A few scenarios come to mind.  But why on earth would I choose to give any energy at all to those fates?  It's the age old dilemma - is the glass half full or half empty?  Are pessimists more realistic, or are they more likely to fall because of their lack of faith?

All I know is this:  I've taken some major chances in recent years.  Chances I would never have dreamed of 20 years ago.  I have not stepped but leapt from my comfort zone into unfamiliar terrain, and it has only served me well.  My dreams have, one by one, become reality.  None of this would have happened had I kept my old tendency of being terrified of the unknown.

Life is all about getting up over and over again.  Sometimes we lose our will.  I have felt that way many times.  But when the goal is so close - when you can see the proverbial finish line - I think the worst thing in the world to do is give up.  It's not that you didn't learn anything along the way.  Effort is never wasted.  It's just that nothing can propel you as far toward your next dream as realizing the dream right in front of you.

Adoption is scary.  Talk about unknowns.  And there are plenty of reasons to feel it's not worth the risk.  For me, however, none of the reasons compare to the risk of never pursuing our family.  Of taking the path of least resistance and just being content with now.  You in fact have to be content with now, I believe.  But there is more.  So much more.  A small part of me will continue to hold my breath until the paperwork is signed, filed and decreed.  The difference is, it's not because I don't have faith that our child is coming home to us.  It's because we are choosing to stay steady on our feet.

I was on the JV drill team, but didn't try out for varsity because I knew I'd fail.  I didn't audition for community theater because I knew I would fudge my lines.  I didn't pursue a legal career in child advocacy because others said I am too emotional and it would be too hard for me.  Time after time I gave up before ever even trying.  To what end?  Sure, maybe I spared myself some embarrassment.   In the end though, all I learned was that I didn't have enough faith in myself to give it a chance.  If I have zero faith in me, why should anyone else?

I believe in our ability to be loving parents, and I have ultimate faith in God.  The rest is just details.

 

Unexpected Hello

This afternoon I was working on my computer when Holly called.  In all honesty I felt a little surge of concern.  I guess everything makes me anxious these days!  She just called to say hello and see how we were, which I thought was very sweet.  I explained that I would call her as well from time to time, but she works such long hours I don't want to bother her.  She talked about the birth plan for baby and how she feels about everything.  She is remaining strong, but acknowledges that it will be a very hard time for her once she gives birth.  I can't imagine how she will feel.  I told her we will all be emotional without a doubt.  It just felt good to talk to her.  It seems like she is becoming more and more fond of us...at least I pray so.  Each time we see her we feel better and better.

Next week we have another doctor's visit and maybe, just maybe, an ultrasound.  No matter what...it will be amazing to her our baby's heartbeat again.  Even being in the same room with Holly feels special.

Baby's room is filling quickly!  It's beyond wonderful to see all the new items waiting to be opened, knowing our child will soon be part of this home.  Counting the days!

One Step Closer

This afternoon we went to another doctor's visit with Holly.  Her energy felt different somehow..lighter.  Each time we see her it seems her mood is more and more relaxed, cheerful and calm.  That does a lot to make us feel, well, the very same way.

The doctor confirmed that once again, all is well.  Baby's heartbeat is normal, she is active and by all accounts everything is going as it should be.  This is always a reassurance to us.

On the way home I felt very....well...lonely I guess.  Lonely for our child.  I know how far we've come and how the remaining days until her birth are relatively few.  It's not that.  I think it's the realization of how very long we've waited for this child, how long I've dreamed of the day we become parents - forever parents - and now that we're so much closer to that reality I can feel the weight of this journey in a new way.  I feel blessed and nervous and anxious.  I feel such longing and hope.  I feel tremendous gratitude and humility.  All of these emotions are kind of bundled up all together and make for a rather curious state of mind.  As *Michael pointed out, our child was in our car today.  That close and yet still she has much to do.  Her body is still growing and her brain is still developing.  But being that close to her, even when she can't see us, is pretty amazing.

These days I don't blog as much because I'm just staying busy.  That's a very good thing.

Our first baby shower is next weekend and we are so excited.  More than anything, we're excited for the energy that this celebration will bring.  We have amazing, supportive friends and family who continue to make this adventure the most incredible yet.

Each night I go into our baby's room and talk to her teddy bear.  I'm sure plenty of folks would think that strange.  It just helps me.  I feel like I'm somehow communicating my feelings to our child.  Maybe I think the bear will hold all of this wonderful energy inside, and then when our daughter lays in her bassinet, she will feel that love.  She's loved beyond words.

Excitement Builds!

Next week is when we officially plan the baby's delivery.  I am ridiculously excited!  I think *Michael is excited and mildly terrified.  This is such an enormous experience...enormous isn't a large enough word.  I find that words are so lacking these days.  They can't begin to explain everything we feel.

Our friends are throwing a shower for us soon, a shower at our home/online.  Packages are arriving and we aren't allowed to peek (tempting as it is!) but it's so wonderful to see our house filling with everything baby.  Today I feel such peace.

*Name has been changed to protect identity.

Contemplation

I've always been the sort of person who remembers that one person in the room who dislikes me.  There could be hundreds who support me, but that one person will stand out time and again.  I think it's the contrast.  And that contrast can keep me up at night.

I mistakenly assumed that every person we know would be just as excited and happy for us as we are, and it's simply not the case.  Maybe it was unrealistic to assume it would be.  I felt that after our years struggling with infertility, with pregnancy loss and other losses, those we love would be enthusiastic and encouraging.  And the truth is that 98% of them have been.  So why does that 2% affect me so much?

I guess I was hoping it would finally feel like...I could celebrate.  It would finally feel as though the stars were aligned and the flowers were in bloom and all great things were converging to make for one tremendously wonderful experience.  When I was pregnant the first time, I wasn't allowed to be excited.  "It's too soon to tell anyone."  "Miscarriage is most prevalent in early pregnancy."  "Just wait and see what happens."  I did as I was told.  When we were pregnant the second time we heard the same thing.  "Remember what happened last time."  "You aren't 20 anymore."  With a heavy sigh I listened to this commentary.  So is it better to be quiet and stoic and say nothing in anticipation of failure?  When do you get to celebrate your joy?  Is there an outline of rules I missed?

Now that we're nearing the homecoming of our first child, most everyone is thrilled for us.  And we are tremendously grateful.  But then there are a few who seem completely uninvolved.  It just feels as though they don't seem to care.  And I could spend hours trying to figure out why, but once again that will put me back in the position of holding my happiness inside until the time is "right".  Well the time is right now.

I've supported women who went through what I've gone through even though they said nothing to me at the time.  I've supported families who adopted time and again when it seemed an impossibility for us.  You don't share happiness only when it benefits you, or only when you have something to be happy about.  It's not always easy.  It was sometimes extremely painful to congratulate friends who became pregnant while we were losing our child.  But our sorrow didn't diminish their joy.  Why should it?

Right now I'm going to focus more than ever on our growing family, and I hope that those we love will walk alongside us. 

Joyful Noise

Visiting the doctor with Holly was something I was actually a bit nervous about.  I wondered how she would feel, having me right there, listening to very personal information.  I reminded myself that she asked me to come.  The entire drive there I thought about it.  I wondered  what it would feel like and what I might learn.

We didn't see the baby this time but we did hear her.  What an amazing sound!  I've only heard that once before, and it was a very different scenario.  Our biological babies were not long for this earth, but this baby..this child we are being graced with..she is healthy and strong.  Later, *Michael asked me if it made me sad.  Sad?  Not at all!  It made me feel euphoric.

Holly is very healthy and baby is too.  I drove home into the sunshine, smiling all the way.

*Names have been changed to protect identity

Venti Love

Feeling very warm inside.  Not literally but emotionally.  Just folded some of our baby's clothes and talked with *Michael about future plans.  I spend so much time in her room.  I've said it before, but the nursery is so calming and healing.  The color, the furniture, the items we've collected so far.  I get recharged in there.  I am reminded of what matters and the immense joy that awaits us.

I was getting ready to head upstairs for the evening when I stopped by the kitchen to get some water.  I drink a lot of water, especially out of my favorite gold and purple Starbucks tumbler.  It doesn't change the taste.  It doesn't have any particularly incredible qualities in terms of water storage or temperature maintenance.  But there is something very special about this tumbler. 

...Cue Scooby Doo style daydream music...

We had arranged to meet our social worker one balmy Wednesday evening in early August.  She suggested Starbucks, and we agreed.  Once there she greeted us with an enormous smile and our official home study report.  It was time to sign our names because we had passed.  It was a moment I thought about for the longest time.  A moment I spent many hours worrying about, but here it was at last.

She hugged us and shared words of congratulations.  As she left, I realized I wanted a celebratory beverage.  I ordered my typical decaf caramel macchiato and then noticed some shiny gold mugs and tumblers on a display.  Something about the color intrigued me and I decided to buy my own.

Each time I drink water I am reminded of the incredible feeling of signing our home study, and knowing that meant we were indeed qualified and ready to adopt a child of our own. 

My beloved Starbucks "home study" tumbler

*Name changed to protect identity.

Gratitude

Our agency is pretty amazing.  I had a conversation with them this morning about meeting our BM this past week.  We work hand in hand with the owner of our agency and she has been extremely supportive and communicative.  She wanted our input as to how things went, how things are progressing and what we hope for the months ahead.

I tried to explain the multitude of emotions we've gone through.  It's hard, to say the least.  Excited but scared.  Anxious but worried.  Concerned but joyful.  It's almost a numbing sensation.  You don't know which way to go or how exactly to feel.  We're definitely thrilled but we also want to remain grounded and not get overly attached to our BM.  Not because we fear her rejection, but because we think we need to maintain a healthy amount of distance.  It would be just as detrimental to her if we became very close.  It seems that, especially at this stage, it would only complicate her emotions.

We are thankful for the outpouring of encouragement we have received.  It never ends!  It gives us strength.  There is no potentiality that we have not considered.  All we choose to focus on is the joy of bringing our child home forever.

The Adventure Continues

This afternoon we headed out on the road to meet our potential birth mother.  We were nervous all day, though I felt confident.  Somehow my stomach didn't get the update.  Not five minutes down the road we had to pull over.  It's as though every possible fear and all the uncertainty got together and hit me at once.  I leaned back, took deep breaths and focused on our goal.

*Holly is not what I expected, but then, I don't know what I expected.  I think I assumed she would be very quiet and maybe a bit distant.  It was quite the opposite.  She was very forthright, outgoing and friendly.  She is also very honest about her situation.  There have been struggles in her life and she is dealing with those the best way she knows how.  But one thing was clear - Holly is determined to make her life better and to see that this baby has a solid upbringing.

Certain things about us are very important to her:  Our religion, our hobbies and other small but meaningful details about us.  The initial family she met with did not work out and I was very honest in telling her I wasn't too upset about that.  She laughed.  Holly shared her ultrasound photo with us, as well as a piece of paper showing the baby's sex.  Holly purposely avoided looking at the monitor.  She did not want to know the sex, and does not want to see the baby.   She is trying with everything in her being to stay emotionally detached from this child. It's not completely possible, to be fair.  But her goal is to get through the remainder of her pregnancy and then work on her own life.  She feels that once this happens, later on, she can look forward to a relationship with this child.

Holly is also very honest about the level of involvement she would like.  Updates, emails.  Maybe getting together on special occasions.  Yet she made it clear that she does not want to mother this baby.  That will be our job, one I look forward to more than I can say.

We embraced her as we left, and made plans to see her again this weekend to meet her other child.  It's very important to her that we do.  After that, I will go to her next doctor's visit and then we will take it from there.  I asked her if she is considering anyone else to parent her child (outside of us) and she said no.  We are it.

Of course I will have a healthy amount of fear in this process - I will be nervous until the day we bring our child home.  I think that's normal for all adoptive families.  Pray for the best, remain cautiously optimistic.

Tonight at dinner we laughed, we got misty eyed and we embraced.  It's a wonderful start to what we hope will be a healthy, loving experience for each of us.

*Name has been changed to protect privacy.

Expect the Unexpected!

Sitting at my desk, working quietly on this and that, when suddenly the phone rings.  Not just any ring tone, but the ring tone I chose specifically for our agency.  In truth I've never heard it before.  The last time they called, they used an unknown number (which is why I didn't answer at the time) and so I've never really had the chance to hear this melody...until now.

I answered frantically and the first thing she said was, "I'm SO glad you answered the phone!"  That was a good start to the conversation!  She explained that our birth mother had met with the couple she initially had an interest in, and for many reasons, it has not worked out.  They've not treated her very well and they've been very slow to communicate - if they communicate at all.  This of course baffles me.  You're on a waiting list to adopt so you can...call me crazy...adopt!  If the birth mother isn't the right choice for you, or her situation seems unfavorable, just be upfront and tell her so.  I don't think it's fair to string her along that way.

In any event, their choice has led to our opportunity!  Now our birth mother is ready to meet with us THIS week, and I am beside myself.  I almost couldn't process the phone call.  It seems surreal!  I know this was the original plan, but in all honesty, after the other couple I kind of let the idea go.  I assumed she would choose them and I felt ok with that because I knew it would be what she thought was best.  I think our faith in her has been a blessing in many ways.

Tomorrow is her next ultrasound which will definitively determine the sex.  (We thought for sure it was a girl, but they said it may not be after all!)  She had originally invited the other couple to come and they said no.  I don't know why.  But our agency said they wished we had the opportunity to go with her, if we'd already met her.  I do too.  Still, we are thrilled.  I wonder if I will sleep until the day we meet?  This feels like Christmas times a million.

Still praying!

True Faith

Late last night we heard from our agency.  Our birth mother is meeting with another family (one she had originally planned on) and depending on how that goes, she may then meet with us.  We've always known this was a possibility, and honestly the news didn't affect me like some might suspect.  At first I felt very sad and disenchanted.  But that feeling didn't last for long.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I actually want her to pursue this other family first.

I don't want anyone to place their child into our hands and lives without being absolutely sure that it's what they want.  That it's what their heart calls for.  I want them to know, as much as they ever can, that we are the perfect family for their baby.  So the way I see it...if this baby is intended for us (and us for them) it will happen.  And if this child is in fact suited for another family, I have no doubts ours will soon be here as well.  I think finally realizing that our profile book has been viewed, and favorably so, has really affected my confidence in great ways.  I know we will be a family.  I believe it now more than ever.

Truthfully, we could still be the family she chooses.  And if so, we will welcome the news!  But if not, our child is just around the corner.

Dreamy

Rainy and very chilly here today.  Worked out at the gym and kind of zoned out as I tend to do.  I find that exercise really helps me think.

Little one's room is such a calm, peaceful, loving space.  I go in there all the time and just look around, smiling.  It's as though I get recharged in there.  It doesn't hurt that my mom sent us a "Baby Magic" scented air freshener.

Hoping to hear some news soon regarding our birth mother.  I feel we'll probably have an update by this weekend.  The good news is we have a lot going on and it will keep us occupied. 

Wonderful Day

Today is one of those autumn days that seem like something right out of a Rockwell painting.  Azure skies, brilliant sunshine and copper leaves.  We walked through a local fall festival and enjoyed fresh apple cider.  I stopped to take a few photos and then stood still for a moment, savoring the morning air.  I felt nothing short of happy.

Why does happiness seem so elusive?  Is it the adage of chasing something and never quite catching up to it?  Or is it that we ignore what should make us happy by instead desiring what could make us happy?

I think we need to stick to our goals, move forward with as much momentum as possible, and in the interim embrace every tiny detail.  I can't count the times I've been worried about X and then X either didn't happen when I was afraid it would, did happen when I was sure it wouldn't, or was ten times easier than I anticipated.

I am doing my best to acknowledge all the blessings I have, from the smallest to the greatest.

Very hopeful we will hear more next week about our birth mother.

Happy fall!

Busy Day

The weather lately has been nothing short of beautiful.  Autumn has definitely arrived.  The air is crisp, cool and dry.  I've never been able to figure it out exactly, but I just generally feel and think better in the fall and spring.  So far, this fall is starting out as no exception.

Today I am cleaning up odds and ends around the house.  Our home doesn't get dirty, but it does get cluttered at times.  In fact I plan to go through boxes I've already consolidated, to "re-consolidate", if you will.  We'll need as much room as possible when baby arrives.

When baby arrives..what a wonderful thought.  Right now our birth mother is making some choices.  Our agency is encouraging her to do what is best for baby and for her situation, and I pray she continues to believe that we are that solution.  I'm just keeping my faith strong and my spirit optimistic. 

Many (and I do mean many) people in this world point out all the what-if scenarios in adoption.  I have considered each of those situations in full.  Still, I know that *Michael and I will be loving, kind parents and I firmly and unequivocally believe that the child we are meant to raise and grow with will be here soon.  The child intended for us is the child we are intended for.  It's a shared destiny, one I've often worried about in years passed, but now feel more confident about than ever before.

*Name has been changed to protect identity.

We've Been Matched!

As I sit here typing this, I imagine all of the mistakes I will make in the words ahead.  Forgive me if I do, but my mind is absolutely reeling.

I finished painting our child's room today and really love how it turned out.  It took several days to get enough coats and now it is so bright and happy.  We built the toy box last night and more and more we can see our little one romping around this room.  Today as I finished the last touch of paint, I sighed and smiled.

This afternoon I was cooking dinner when an odd number called my phone.  I didn't answer because we get lots of telemarketer/solicitor calls.  But after about 10 minutes my voice mail chimed, and I thought that really odd.  Who leaves such a lengthy voice mail?  We sat down to eat and I checked my message, then dropped my fork.  It was our agency!  (Ironically I remember thinking I would hear *her* voice and sure enough this time I did.)  She had called us from a different number which is why I didn't recognize it.

The message explained that a young woman northeast of us saw our book and "fell in love" with us.  She had originally chosen a different kind of family, but our agency decided to show our book anyway.  We are so thankful they did!  This woman has had a very hard time in her life, and more than ever she needs support.  She needs to know she's not alone.  There are other circumstances that I won't go into at this time, to protect both her anonymity and privacy as well as the privacy of this stage of the adoption, but ultimately she appreciated what she read about us and it moved her enough to consider us her number one family.

One thing she apparently really liked is the church we belong to.  She herself used to go to a church like ours and respects what we stand for.  She also loves to hike, just like us.

We will get more information in a few days and then if all continues to go well, we will meet her for dinner with her social worker and our agency president.  She really wants to see us face to face, and I completely understand that.  How can we begin to describe the enormity of her decision?  If I were her, I would need to know the potential family my child was becoming part of.  It would be essential to me.

Tonight I feel so completely....complete.  Not as complete as when we hold our child in our arms, but I feel like I can exhale.  I feel like things are moving and coming together.  I feel a sense of peace.  I feel tremendous excitement.  I feel sadness for what this young mother is going through.  I pray she sees in us what we believe we see in ourselves, and that everything falls into place.  I pray we are the forever family for this little one who will be here in January.  I pray, I pray, I pray.

Introspection

Some random thoughts today...

A friend of ours has a beautiful baby, one I'm often gazing at with hopeful anticipation.  Seeing babies used to be downright painful.  I avoided it as much as possible.  I felt a mix of anxiety and sadness that I couldn't quite swallow.  What made this worse was the fear that if anyone knew how I felt, they'd call me selfish and think badly of me.  I became distant and quiet instead.  This went on for several months after both miscarriages.  It's not something I wanted.  I've always innately known that begrudging someone their happiness won't give you any blessings - none worth having.  I think it's important to know that if anyone in your life has gone through this or is going through this, being patient is absolutely key.  Giving them their space and time.  We don't get to decide how anyone feels, much less how they process their pain.

Our kiddo's room is well under way.  We changed our color choice and are much happier with the blue than yellow.  (Cool water by Behr, to be precise)  My parents purchased us an adorable dresser and toy box, and tomorrow we're getting a new lamp.  I find myself going in their room more and more often.  It's a very happy space.

For any family who is struggling with infertility, loss or waiting to be matched, know that you have an extended family who may not understand your specific path but who absolutely can empathize with your journey.  Know that it's completely normal and reasonable to feel a myriad of emotions from sadness to anger to indifference.  It just reminds you how important this life decision is.  If you stay strong, and as difficult as it can be, if you hold onto hope, you can make it through.  Physical pain will subside.  Emotional pain can be resolved, at least in a manageable way.  And the waiting...which in some ways is the hardest part...one day down is another day closer.  Don't ever forget that.

Unpredictable

My emotions have been running rampant these days.  I had a really rough 3 or 4 weeks, then it got much better, and today I feel low again.  It actually started yesterday.  I've noticed that when things are otherwise placid in our life, I can handle just about anything.  But isn't that how it goes?  One thing at a time.  Today I am dealing with a few issues that are, in the entire scheme of things, not that critical.  But when you have something on your mind every day, those types of issues just seem to magnify everything else.

*Michael is amazing, as always.  He took me out for dinner last night in lieu of our usual Thursday night workout at the rec center.  No complaints here.

Right now, in this moment, I feel spent.  I'm reading up on a lot of families who have already been matched.  Some after two weeks.  Some after 2 years.  And oddly enough, neither scenario truly comforts me, but for different reasons.

I am so ready for the day I can update this blog with the BIG NEWS..that he or she is finally here.  Or, in the case of siblings, that they are here.

I've decided on yellow for the kiddo's room.  It's bright and cheery.

*Name has been changed to protect identity.

Season's Change

Autumn has always been my favorite time of year.  There is something inspiring about the cooler weather.  I am also a big fan of spring, maybe because of the sense of renewal.  Even so, I don't consider autumn to be a dark, depressing warning of impending snow.  I just don't think of it that way.

Last night we had a fun family dinner celebrating our cousin's birthday.  The night before that we laughed and ate way too much food with dear friends.   I'm not sure what changed in my mindset, but I can say that sadness and longing actually has a strange knack of numbing any joy we encounter.  Ironic because we desperately seek joy on those days.  Then when it arrives, we argue its presence.  I felt that way for a time.  The longing for news on our adoption.  The hope, the anticipation.  There were other things going on at the time that compounded the issue for me, but they have since resolved.  Finally one night I had an epiphany of sorts. I decided that while I was completely and fully entitled to my feelings,  they weren't helping.  Feelings are great if they put things in perspective or kind of move us along on our path.  But when they act as a barrier, a roadblock, it's time to break them down.  No one in this world can do that for us.  Others can point the way or offer support, but they can't do the work.  It's an extremely personal process and one that happens when it's meant to happen - a phrase adoptive parents often struggle with.

This past week I saw signs - very positive signs - that as I began to feel better, situations around me were unfolding in hopeful ways.  The crisp air helps my mood, and suddenly it seems like the universe is conspiring to help us along.

It's a good great feeling. 

Center of Focus

Some people have said that the world only shows compassion when it relates to them. If they've experienced what you are going through, they will embrace you.  If they haven't, they can judge harshly.  *Michael and I are blessed to have an enormous support system.  Our church is filled with incredible people who continuously pray for us.  They don't ask about the adoption out of necessity or politeness.  They ask because they genuinely want to know.  We have a group of friends outside of church who also show support and love and have done so in many ways.  We are extremely grateful.

So has this process become my entire center of focus?  Is it all I think about?  Do I just spend my days staring at pictures of infants and toddlers while weeping silently?  No I do not.

On any given day, I work out of my home office on various projects.  I am the webmaster and newsletter editor for our church.  When not working on that, I'm cleaning or doing laundry or cooking.  We go to the gym three times a week.  We go to church each Sunday and are often greeters, snack bringers or worship leaders.  Every weekend we go to my mother-in-law's for lunch and help her with any chores she may have.  We run errands.  We go hiking. 

When not doing any of these things of course I think about our child to be.  How could I not?  Does a pregnant woman think of the child growing inside of her?   Adoptive parents don't always know "when" or "where", but they think of that child with as much love and hope.

Sometimes when we are sad or longing for something, it makes other people uncomfortable.  I understand that but I also think compassion is the most important trait a person can have.  As of late, we have certainly learned where that compassion will come from, and Michael and I will embrace that when they days are long and sometimes difficult.




*Name has been changed to protect identity.

Perception

This evening, while surfing the internet, I came across a photo showing several children that were officially adopted today from foster care.

When you are waiting for a child, it's easy to forget how many children are waiting for you.  Which is more difficult?  Wanting so much to hold them, laugh with them, love them and grow with them?

Or waiting and praying to be held and loved?

I am grateful for this reminder.

Roller coaster

This morning I heard from our agency.  One question that plagues a lot of adoptive families is wondering how often you should contact them, or how often they will be contacting you.  Will they update you if nothing has changed?

I've contacted our agency twice since becoming a waiting family.  This morning they responded and reassured us that they are doing their part, but that we shouldn't be concerned if we don't hear from them.  They also spoke of an out of the blue type scenario last weekend.  A woman gave birth and decided right then and there to place her child.  Another family was waiting longer than we've been waiting, and they were geographically closer.  So they were chosen.

I've read several different blogs focusing on the topic of patience in adoption.  I see things like:

"The right child will come to you when the time is right."

"Just be patient and stay busy."

"Be thankful you're just a couple now while you still have privacy."

Each of these sentences seems as foreign to me as the next.  It's not that we don't know any of these things.  We know we can't force the timing.  We have zero say in that.  We know we need to stay busy or focused on something else if we don't want to lose our minds in anticipation.  And we are grateful for our marriage and every adventure we have shared.  But not a single one of these changes how we feel.  And invariably, these suggestions come from people who are already matched parents.  Sure, they have the benefit of experience, but I almost think it's easier to hear those words from people still in our position.  Those who also listen to the ticking of the clock and just wonder...when?

The Road Traveled...

I think it's safe to say that I've always wanted to be a mother.  It's not something that occurred to me one day while watching children play, it doesn't come from a need to silence persistent family members.  My family has never actually tried to pressure me into parenthood.  It's just something I've always known about myself.  As much as I know my name and who and what I stand for, I know I'm intended to be a mother.

As an only child I desperately wanted a brother or sister.  I realize now more than ever that this wasn't just the yearning for sibling rivalry, late nights, shared clothes or family vacations.  Part of it came from my longing to parent a child.

I wasn't exactly known for my sharp decision making as a teenager, or even as a young adult.  I've always been a "feeler" rather than a thinker.  I can't tell you how many times this has caused problems.  Sometimes irreparable damage.  Still, I'm intuitive and emotional and that's my basis for choosing the path I follow.  I don't really know any other way to be.

My first husband was more of a friend than anything.  We made that determination five years too late.  My second husband taught me more than I would have ever learned on my own, but neither of us was ultimately suited for the other.  I wouldn't trade our relationship for anything because at times it was beautiful.  I gained an incredible sense of self from our time together.  But sometimes when you're figuring out who you are and what you want, it comes at the expense of your job or relationship or position in life.  I think that was the case for us both.  And that leads me to today.

*Michael isn't anything I expected.  I didn't expect his presence in my life.  I didn't expect his friendship and most assuredly didn't expect his love.  He was in much the same situation.  Life doesn't exactly follow the tidy, well constructed plan we lay out for ourselves.  People fight it.  We throw stones and accusations and make unfair demands of one another.  At the end of the day, our happiness comes in a myriad of ways and we need to embrace that.  It doesn't matter what anyone thinks or says about your life.  They quite literally have no way of knowing what you know.  Perception is limited.  It doesn't have the benefit of feeling, thinking or knowing.  And until the day it does, I've learned to pay little attention to the misgivings of others.  It doesn't change a thing.  Michael and I fell in love, moved in together, bought a car, a house, got married and went on with our lives together.  But a few things happened along the way.

In the summer of 2011 we took a trip east to visit friends.   On the way home from this particular trip I felt a lot of sadness.  I couldn't quite figure out why.  We landed at the airport and I remember crying inexplicably on the way home.  I figure Michael chalked it up to missing our friends.  I thought that was possible, but it still seemed odd to me.  As emotional as I am I still have a reason for feeling as I do, and this one eluded me.

A few days later it became clear to me that I was pregnant.  My period was late and that was not something that, well, ever happened.  I took a test and my thoughts were confirmed.  I felt a mixture of elation and fear.  I guess that's the typical response.  After two relationships and a desperate need to become a mother, I was now going to see my dream realized.  Michael called his mother and brother and shared the happy news.  I phoned my parents and they were equally excited.  Everyone was thrilled for us.  All the pieces were finally coming together.  I began craving tomatoes (at all times) and was truly enjoying this curious aspect of pregnancy.  My body looked the same but still I knew that deep inside of me a new life was growing and thriving.  I made my first doctor's appointment.  I was surprised to learn that many doctor's don't require an exam until a woman is five or six weeks along.  The simple fact is the baby is so tiny prior to that, there is really little to be seen.

A few days later I began to experience cramping in my lower back.  I figured it was par for the course.  But the next day when the spotting began, I panicked.  A wave of absolute fear rippled through me.  The tears came freely and without hesitation.  I called the doctor and they asked me to come in that day for blood work.  That was followed by more blood work a few days later.  In the meanwhile I read up on every possible reason for bleeding in early pregnancy.  The internet is not a kind place when you're already terrified.  (For any reason.)  The next day as I paced through the apartment, Michael tried to comfort me.  It must have worked because when the nurse called and dropped the bombshell that my numbers were dropping (which was a pretty good indicator that I had miscarried or was in the process of miscarrying) I literally yelled out and threw the phone on the counter.  I ran into the bedroom and fell to the floor.  It was the kind of crying that feels as though every bit of happiness is being drained from your body with every tear that falls.  I had already lost my cat of 17 years earlier that year.  Losing him felt as though joy would be nothing if not elusive, and this was another violent kick to my core.

I've often said that indifference is the worst feeling in the world.  That numb sensation of nonchalance.  Whether rain or sun, you feel exactly the same.  This was my life for the next few months.  I went through the motions because I was "supposed" to.  Michael went to work each day and came home to a quiet place.  Not the pleasant kind of quiet where contemplation is a reprieve from the weight of the world.  This was the kind of quiet that takes over when words have lost all meaning.

Less than two months later, Michael's only brother died.  It wasn't particularly unexpected but it was absolutely relentless in its effect on our family, the aftermath of which we are still feeling in some ways.  One of those times when you look to the heavens and wonder why God has not only forsaken you but decided you aren't worthy of keeping anything that means anything.

The following year we decided we needed a change.  Our apartment was becoming smaller and smaller as we acquired more and more "stuff".  The truth was that I've always wanted a home and Michael was ready for that as well.  We sold his much beloved but very impractical truck and purchased a sedan.  A few months later we began the nerve wracking process of shopping for a new home.  We were able to buy a wonderful house.  This isn't the kind of first house you settle for, not the kind of place where you figure you'll just make the best of it until you can save more money.  I saw this house online, fell in love and within two weeks our offer was accepted.  It seemed our luck was beginning to change.

In 2013 we visited my family.  We had a wonderful trip and once back home, I noticed that once again my period was late.  I bought a pregnancy test kit with two tests and told myself I would wait until a few days had passed.  By early morning I was restless and couldn't sleep.  I took the first test and stared a hole in the wall waiting for the minutes to pass.  Finally I glanced down and saw two lines.  I was beyond overjoyed.  Just to be safe, I took the second test and got the same results.  I was pregnant again!  Now that we had the house and the car, I knew everything would work out.  I was smarter, a bit older and more prepared than ever.  I climbed back into bed and Michael asked, without missing a beat, "Are we pregnant?"  He knew.  I laughed and yelled, "YES!"  That day we made the phone calls as we had before.  Once again everyone was thrilled for us.  I knew we should wait to tell our friends because of the very real and obvious risk in announcing a pregnancy so early.  Somehow though, I felt we needed the prayers.  We needed the encouragement.  We told our friends and they fully embraced this wonderful news.

During my first ultrasound, the technician remarked that she couldn't see the baby.  She kept saying she saw "something" but couldn't tell what.  I felt empty.  Were we going through this all over again?  They scheduled a second ultrasound and I waited for that appointment with uncertain hope.  By the time we pulled into the parking lot, my mind had already decided I wasn't pregnant.  I knew I needed to prepare myself for the inevitable.  Michael remarked that I didn't know for sure and I should stay optimistic.  As the elevator reached the fourth floor, I felt both sick and sad.  I wanted to believe him but I was just too afraid.  I laid down for my ultrasound and closed my eyes.  We were explaining to the nurse that they couldn't find the baby last time, and we just wanted to be sure my uterus was healthy and that everything was going back to normal..whatever that meant.  The nurse moved the wand slightly and said something I will never, ever forget.  "Uh, I have a surprise for you both.  You are definitely still pregnant!"  My eyes opened.  I glanced toward the monitor and shook my head in disbelief.  She pointed to the screen and said, "See!  Here is your baby, and here you can see their heartbeat."  Cue tears.  Cue heavy, hot, uncontrollable tears.  Our baby became obscured and all I could do was weep in gratitude.  Michael smiled and stared in shock.  Then something happened that was even more incredible than just seeing our baby.  The nurse asked, "Would you like to hear their heartbeat?"  I couldn't form words at this point.  I nodded and covered my face.  The room got quiet and suddenly the most beautiful sound filled the space.  A sound that I still hear in my dreams.  Our baby's heart was beating strong.  117 beats per minute to be exact.  I cried harder than ever and thanked God in every possible way I could. 

The nurse handed us our official ultrasound photo and I held it to my heart like it was handed down from heaven above.  She then directed us down to my nurse practitioner's office and as we waited we stared at this mesmerizing photo.  Our NP came in smiling just as we were.  She was so thrilled for us and for what seemed like a miraculous turn of events.  I asked her how it was that they hadn't seen the baby last time, and she explained that the pregnancy just wasn't as far along as we'd first thought.  Referencing our photo, she told us there was an area around the baby referred to as a subchorionic hemorrhage.  This sounded downright scary.  Michael and I looked at each other in concern.  But according to our NP, this was a common event and did not necessarily mean anything would go wrong with the pregnancy.  She placed me on pelvic rest as a precautionary measure.  I scheduled my next ultrasound and went home feeling nothing but warmth and bliss.

On Memorial Day we visited family graves and left flowers, something Michael's family has done for decades.  As I walked around the cemetery I felt a dull ache in my lower belly.  I was admittedly concerned but tried not to dwell on it.  The next morning as I went to the bathroom, I saw blood.  A lot of blood.  I know the color drained from my face.  I called my nurse and she sighed.  She was thinking the same thing.  Michael immediately came home from work and held me.  We cried together.  Again.

Another ultrasound confirmed our fears.  Our baby was there, but the heartbeat was gone.  I zoned into the image on the monitor, almost absorbing it.  The tiny being that once pulsed with determination now floated quietly inside of me.  I felt like I was floating too.

The nurse asked if I wanted a shot, if I wanted surgery or if I wanted to let nature take its course.  I chose the latter.  I just wanted to be left alone.  I wanted my body to be mine again.  No more tests or needles or invasive procedures.

In less than a month we became parents, lost our baby, found our baby and then lost them again. 

While the first miscarriage was emotionally devastating, the pain was only minimal.  Not so with this pregnancy.  This miscarriage was emotionally and physically the most difficult thing I have ever experienced.  It was a new, raw kind of pain.  My soul felt shattered. 

When you lose a child, everyone else loses them too.  Parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, cousins, friends, everyone.  The world loses them.  But despite this, I felt isolated.  I just didn't care about much of anything.  I once again went through the motions of life.  What was the alternative?

That winter Michael and I talked about adoption.  Becoming pregnant again seemed more worrisome than anything.  I wasn't sure I wanted to take that risk again.  Too much was at stake.  But how could we ever afford adoption?  We put the idea on hold.

One day in March of this year, my father and I were chatting on the phone.  My parents have always known how important parenthood is to me.  They also knew and know that Michael and I were 100% committed to becoming a family.  My dad then told me that because he and mom had not paid for me to attend a four year school as they had planned (I attended community college but did not finish), they decided to instead offer that money to us for an adoption.  We were both shocked and  tremendously excited.  This seemed like the answer to our prayers!

In April we started scouting out agencies and thought we'd found the perfect organization.  Thought.  It turned out that they gave us some very bad information, information we took as fact and that almost completely derailed us in the process.  Enter my mom.  She is determined like very few people I know, and she made several phone calls.  She refused to give up on this.  Finally we got the facts and knew we had a real chance after all.  I found another agency and scheduled a telephone interview.  We sat on the couch, full of anticipation, and when the phone rang I jumped.  An hour later, I danced through the house.  The interview went just as I'd hoped it would.  She said all the right things.  We seemed to have the right answers to her questions.  We sent in some preliminary paperwork, our initial fee, and were officially accepted.  Hurdle number one - cleared!

I knew enough about adoption to know that the process seemed long and overwhelming, but after everything Michael and I had been through, I had no doubts we could handle this.  People often tell you that buying your first home requires more paperwork than you can believe.  A homeowner myself, I can tell you that in our case it didn't remotely compare with this adoption.  Background checks.  Financial affidavits.  Employment history.  Physical exams.  State applications.  The list went on and on and on.  Our agency is wonderful in that they provided an extremely helpful checklist, but it was still pretty intimidating.  Then came the dreaded words...HOME STUDY.

I'd read all about home study's and as usual, I'd read horror stories.  Dreaded social workers with white gloves, checking your house for the slightest hint of dust.  Home renovations.  Inspections.  I began going through our DVD's and tossing out titles that weren't rated PG.  I rearranged closets.  Michael moved furniture.  We looked at our once warm, welcoming home and saw every potential negative aspect.  Were those stairs too steep?  Was the smoke alarm loud enough?  Was our flower bed full of precarious plants?  Were our cats bad news? 

Our social worker showed up as scheduled and our blood pressure immediately settled.  She was warm, friendly and reassuring.  She wanted us to become parents - not the other way around.  Her walk-through was thorough but not unrealistic.  She didn't check for dust bunnies under the cupboards.  Instead she made sure our windows had screens, she suggested safety gates and cabinet locks.  She made sure that our home is a safe place for a child.    We felt better with each passing minute.  We scheduled our next three required visits and went to bed with high hopes.

Our state requires parenting classes for all adoptions.  Unfortunately, scheduling those was less than easy.  It seemed as though none of the scheduled classes matched our schedule.  I was starting to get discouraged when finally we found a wonderful trainer nearby who actually accommodated our requests and made it work for us.  At first I wondered what we could possibly learn from these classes.  Would they teach you how to change a diaper or how to look for signs of colic?  I already knew all of these things after many years of watching children.  Still we had to go so we went in with an open mind.  All of our preconceptions were wrong.  Adopted children, simply put, have different needs.  Attachment is probably one of the biggest and most important aspects of adoption.  This baby, this child, is coming into your home not knowing who you are.  Can they trust you?  How do you begin to earn that trust?  We learned all of this and more.  We learned about the racial inequities facing many adopted children.  We learned about their biological and birth parents and saw documentaries about how this process affects them.  It's a decision they have to live with indefinitely, one I never truly considered from their point of view.  A mother is carrying life for nine months and then, in a move of incredible and unmatchable selflessness, she and the father are entrusting that life to another family. 

After our classes were completed and we received our official certification (another hurdle cleared) we completed our home study and once again, waited.  Waited to hear the word "PASSED".  In a move I soon learned to regret, I went back to the internet and looked for possible reasons for failing a home study.  Most of them seemed pretty obvious and extreme, but a few had me concerned.  What if our social worker saw something in us we didn't see in ourselves? Something she personally disliked?  But again our fears were unfounded.  Our SW called and arranged a meeting to review the final report.  With an enormous smile she congratulated us on passing the home study and asked for our signatures.  I couldn't grab the pen fast enough.

Today, coming up on 5 weeks and 6 days being officially available as a family, the waiting is proving to be harder than I ever, ever imagined.  I feel as though I've been waiting for almost four decades.  Waiting for a missed period.  Waiting for pregnancy tests to show results.  Waiting for ultrasound reports.  Waiting for the miscarriages to finally end.  Waiting for the agency to call us.  Waiting for our first home study.  Waiting now for the call that says, "You've been matched!"

We are open to any sex, any race, and any age between newborn and three years.  This makes shopping difficult.  We have books though.  We have a few baby items we just couldn't pass up, and some toddler clothes as well.  We're about to paint and design our child's room.  I know I will spend much time sitting on the bed, gazing up at the walls and day dreaming.  I do a lot of that.

One thing I can say as we move forward is this:  Everything we have gone through together has led us to this and it means more than we can express.  All the tests, the almost three months of weekly blood work, the fatigue, the tears, the weakness, the loss, the physical pain and the mental anguish...we would go through it all over again, ten times over, for the moment we pray for.  That moment when our child is finally and forever in our arms.

Welcome to our journey.

*Name has been changed to protect identity.