My Ebenezer

We celebrated the finalization of our baby's adoption yesterday. What a great day with family and dear friends in the courtroom with us as A receieved, legally, his new name! While he has been our son from June 1st, this step was more significant than I imagined. The idea of adoption and being given a new name....well...it just hit me with the parallels of us being adopted by God. He gives us new names, too. Previously our names were "sinner, pit-dweller, gossiper, thief, murderer...."

But now...

Our names are "holy, dearly loved, pure ones, children of GOD!" Oh yes, receiving a new name is significant indeed.

And of course at year's end I can't help but reflect on 2010. It is hard to believe that one year ago adoption was not even on our radar. Indulge me while I relive some of the events leading us to our son.

Mid January, 2010, we were sitting in our church service and listening to our pastor speak. The only part of his message that I remember was when he said that sometimes setting aside our own plans to follow the will of God can be "excruciating." And then an overwhelming feeling came over me that we were supposed to adopt. Now. Understand me when I say that this does not normally happen for me! (wish it would more) I fully believe that God speaks to people, but I have never had him speak so clearly into my life as he did that day and in the days following.

Without giving every detail, let me just tell you that it was extremely clear over the next week that we were to adopt. A baby. Transracially. Using this agency. God used specific people in our lives including my father-in-law, oldest son, and even our pediatrician and a work acquaintance. By week's end both hubby and I were feeling like if we did not pursue this it would be like giving God the middle finger. It was that clear.

I want to remember this year vividly for the rest of my life. It is my Ebenezer! (Fitting for Christmas, I know :>) I am no theologian, so for those of you who are, I apologize for my surface knowledge of this idea. From my understanding, an Ebenezer stone was a biblical way of marking a place for remembrance. It means "stone of help" and signifies God's real and holy presence in our lives and in specific situations. In some ways, our son himself is my Ebenezer. I cannot look at him without acknowleding God's real and holy presence in my life. Even in the many, many days when things are hard and I'm starting to fall apart.

Well, speaking of my Ebenezer, he's awake now and needs his mama. I can say now, with confidence, that no one else is his mama besides this woman sitting here remembering......Thank you, God. You gave me a living, breathing "stone of remembrance" testifying to your holiness, help, and LOVE!

Letters to Outer Space

I wrote birthmama, S, another letter yesterday and I must admit it is getting harder and harder. This is the fourth letter I've written since A's birth. I like to think that she can't wait to get the package in the mail, read the letter, look at the pictures, marvel at how happy we all look.....and be confident over and over again in her decision. Sigh. For all I know she may have never opened a single one. Maybe it's too hard. I would understand that.

We have one way communication. I know nothing more than that she and her daughter have an apartment, in a certain city, and she found a good job. Grateful to know even that much, I try to remind myself that I knew it would be this way. We send letters and pictures to update and reassure her that he's doing well. There is no obligation on the other end. Today I am longing to know more. To know her. For him. I am afraid we will lose touch. That the agency will eventually tell us that the packages keep coming back and that she has not called to update her address. I know several families in that situation and the agency pretty much told us to expect it. In time, they say, that's just what happens.

Ok, so I'm going to admit something that you might judge me for. I watch the show, "Teen Mom." One couple that is featured placed their baby for adoption at birth. On this week's episode, they had their first meeting with their daughter and her parents. It hurt my heart to watch, even though it was a very positive thing for them all. There was redemption evident, but the cost is so high.

And of course it makes me think about us. I don't have much faith that A will meet S. It saddens me. And then it relieves me. And then it breaks my heart. For some reason that God only knows, we have been called to not only be A's parents, but to try to minister to the heart of his birthmama. With each letter we try to remind her of God's great big love for her and her daughter mixed with details like how A is a super-drooler and has a smile as big as his face :). I feel guilty sometimes. Sometimes I feel like the replacement. That she should have been his mother.

We will keep sending letters and pictures every month for another couple of months, then every three months indefinitely. I would love to hear back from her....but I'm not counting it.

Having It All

I was going to get a pedicure today. Had an appointment and everything. But God, as He does, spoke to me yesterday afternoon. Through Facebook. A friend posted a link to this blog:

http://buildingtheblocks.blogspot.com/

One of the entries shows pictures of her five adopted children interspersed with pictures of stuff and vacation destinations. In the entry she says she would choose those kiddos "again and again and again" over the stuff. I can get whiny and irritated and downright resentful at how much adoption costs. Maybe there is reform that is needed; I can't say I've researched it enough to have an educated opinion. But something I read in this blog hit me square. I think that we, as Christians especially, want to "have it all."

It's a different kind of "have it all" than "the world." (boy, I'm using a lot of quotation marks) And that's dangerous. See, I think the kind of thing I'm guilty of is wanting to have it all in that I truly do want to help others, adopt a child, and generally save the world, if you will. But I ALSO want to wear cute clothes, have a nice haircut, live in a home that I'm proud of and send my kids to private school. I want it all.

Today I'm thinking about just how much, or what, I'm willing to give up for the sake of something else that really matters. So for today I canceled the pedicure and put that money in a jar. I wonder how much I could save if I did this with the new clothes I want, the dinners out, the venti latte....you get the idea. How long would it take to save the tens of thousands of dollars it takes to adopt with this method?

Frankly, I'm kind of tired of "having it all." Even the Christian version. I feel a challenge coming on. Anyone in?

Less Like Breakdown

Well, this past week was rough. For whatever reasons I just kind of had a meltdown midweek that had me wondering what in the world we are doing. I know that other people feel this way, too, but when you're in that moment it just feels like you're the only one. Parenting is hard work. So is working, being married, maintaining friendships, and trying to bear witness to God's goodness through action. Life, in short, is hard. And for whatever reason, this week the hardness of life outweighed the beauty (at least in my own head...) and I went over the edge a little bit. My poor hubby. Unfortunately he is the recipient of said breakdown emotional outbursts and the i-can't-deal-with-life-anymore monologues. Because I can get it together pretty well for other people. I mean, I functioned at work this week and saw some people socially who (i don't think, anyway) didn't really wonder what the bleep was wrong with me. Or maybe they did.

I am in a better place today. A song I love has come into my head. Sara Groves wrote it and there are a few great lines. Indulge me while I quote:

Every day it's
Less like tearing more like building
Less like captive more like willing
Less like breakdown more like surrender
Less like haunting more like remember


And the song just has me thinking that I can use the same emotions to break down that I can to just surrender. I cannot do life on my own. We cannot parent these four kids on our own (Lord help us and them if we try!) Period. When I try it just gets worse and the people around me get beat up. It is not the way of Jesus to think we need to have it all "together." There has been no time in my life when I've felt less "together" than now.

I can't say that I feel exactly grateful for the breakdown. But it does lead me to a place of knowing I need to trust Him with my life. Surrendering to my all-knowing-all-loving God sure sounds better to me at this point. We'll see how this week goes.

We Get To Be

Last Sunday I had the chance to briefly talk about our experience with adoption and how we felt God moving us. A "burning bush moment," if you will. The message in church was on Moses, going about his every day thing, minding his own business, and then God shows up in the form of a burning bush :) Haha. Makes me smile because I really feel like that's what happened to me/us in late January of this year. I have been made aware that I kind of just jumped into this blogging thing in the middle of our journey. Some of you don't know the whole backstory and want to (!). That will have to wait for another post because I have my sweet babe in my arms as I type and that's not one I can just quickly shoot out one handed...

Yesterday I was reminded by the Indigo Girls (love 'em) that, "We get to be a ripple in the water. We get to be a rock that's thrown." Somehow, by the grace of God (and I truly mean that because I was just a blubbering idiot up front and really don't even know what I said... sigh) my telling a little bit about our story touched some people and a few came up to me afterwards wanting to talk adoption in more detail. Kinda feel like God took us and threw us into the adoption water. If, through us stumbling towards obedience there are some ripples happening, then to God be all the glory! Nothing would make me happier than to see more children, birthmamas, and families of all types come to know the love of God more richly through adoption.

He Knows Me

So last night, 4 a.m. to be exact (which is still technically night, right?), my sweet babe had finally fallen asleep on my chest while we were both on the couch. As I was praying that he would start to sleep better I started wondering what God was trying to teach us in this tough transition and sleep deprived period. Then it hit me.

Asher knows me.

We have really been struggling to get him to go back to sleep in his crib after night time feedings. He can be up and awake for hours sometimes. He'll do this little grunting uncomfortable sound and not really cry, but not sleep either. It was after one of those periods that I finally thought, "whatever. I am going to sleep with this baby and if he starts to think that's the only way he can sleep, I DON'T CARE!" So picking him up out of his bouncy seat and laying him on my chest, his little grunts finally subsided and he started, well, sleeping like a baby. (sidebar: weird saying that is since most babies don't sleep worth crap).

I did not carry my son in my womb for nine months. My skin is a different color than his. And yet, he knows ME and is comforted by ME. I am and forever will be his mommy. And that gives me a big, sleep-deprived smile :).

Sad

*Profanity disclaimer for the easily offended. Read at your own risk*

I know, I know. This blog has taken a turn for the negative. Sigh. This morning, however, there's no other emotion I can conjure up and the babies are all sleeping, so this is what you get. My kids would say, "You get what you get and you don't throw a fit!"

My little brother is a police detective in Tampa, Florida. This past week they lost two officer's lives when they were shot at close range during a traffic stop. The guy turned out to be involved in a previous homicide, the way I understand it. Only last night, after a four day man hunt, was he taken into custody. One officer had four young boys. The other's wife was 9 months pregnant. The funeral for these two men is this morning. I just sent my brother a text and he and his wife are at the funeral now, which is just about to begin. Thousands are expected to attend.

So I've had several questions for my God this week. They kind of vary in the exact nature, but the overriding question is, of course, "Why?" How in any way is God allowing this to happen pointing to His goodness? Maybe it's not. Maybe it's just a glaring, horrible, f@#$ing, sh@##y reminder that sin is in our world and God help us all. As a mother I cannot help but tear up when I think of those children and those two moms who will now raise those kids alone and have to work through not only their own grief, but that of their children. This is not the way it's supposed to be.

And then there's the fear. I have done a pretty great job over the past 10 years, or so, just ignoring the danger facing my little brother on a daily basis. Even though he's done much undercover work and entered crazy situations, I've been able to keep the danger at arm's length. This past week I have not. Knowing he was involved in the search for the killer had me praying harder than ever before for his safety. And also wishing he were an accountant. (no offense, honey) The police dept. is lucky to have him and the good people of Tampa are safer for him there. He is the best of the best at what he does, I am sure. I have always maintained that he is the ONLY person I can think of who has never once complained about his job. He was made to do this.

And so it comes back to trust. I cannot pretend to say that I trust the life of my brother will be safe because I pray or believe in God. And I don't think it's true, anyway. We're not promised that. But can I trust that God is good? Can I trust that He knows what He's doing? Can I trust him with the lives of those I love? My life?

It's a decision every day.

Tired But Not Destroyed

This may not be the best day to update a blog, but the 3 big kids are busy watching a movie and little one is napping, so no time like the present. Our beautiful boy is four weeks old today! Already! The stinker kept me up for at least two hours straight last night, all wide-eyed and gassy smiles (him, not me). And I AM TIRED.
A was born right at the beginning of summer vacation for the big kids, which has also presented some challenges and I suspect has added to my foul mood at times. Wow. That sounds kind of horrible to say/type. I think that having a newborn while simultaneously trying to adjust everyone to a new routine (or lack thereof if I'm honest) has not been one of my shining moments as a parent. Sigh. I really wish I was one of those moms who just loves summer vacation with their kids because they get to just play and hang out at the pool and eat popsicles and sleep in. I am definitely not there yet. My typical summer day has consisted of trying to keep the boys from killing each other, trying to explain to my eight year old that no, I am NOT lying to him just because plans change, and if we're lucky reminding the kids to practice their piano and do their chores. Oh yeah, and also trying to get A on a schedule while still getting the big kids to swimming lessons and playdates. I have had some times of panic when I realize I don't really have anything planned as far as activities go for the next while. And I'm looking forward to going back to work a couple of days a week....

I don't THINK the above makes me a bad mom. Truly I love all those little rugrats and would give both arms and legs for them if it ever proved necessary. Sometimes I'm feeling that I can't really complain about this, though, now that we've had our fourth child. I mean, we chose to have this many kids for heaven's sakes! To complain about how it can be exhausting seems....well....kind of wrong. And like I'd get a lot of "I told you so" looks, or at least "I thought you'd feel that way after you had him" looks. So I'll just complain via blog and then all of you who might be reading this can give your disapproving looks to your computer screen instead :).

And I'm brought back to the message our pastor gave that started this whole business of us adopting...he said that sometimes following God rather than our own plans can be excruciating. Excruciating. Again feel a little like a mom is not supposed to say that about parenting....but...

Insert that song "I Will Survive." You know, the one that someone ALWAYS sings at karaoke? Granted all of the words do not apply. Really only the chorus. And actually I will do more than survive; I'm just being a whiner. There are the moments in every day that are just plain great. Moments where I think that I made some good decisions, did some good parenting, and have totally amazing kids! And moments where I can see that adopting A was completely right and good. Love that little munchkin. :)

A bit of awesome news: A's birthmama is now out of the shelter and in an apartment with her daughter! She already found a job and is making some good decisions to get life back on track. I can't explain how happy this makes us. This week I'm sending her the first set of pictures and a letter updating her on how A is doing....

Wow. I'm kind of babbling again and this is turning into a very long post. Lots more thoughts swirling around in the brain. But I will stop since my loving and lovely hubby just suggested that it's my turn to take a nap! Only a fool would refuse that...

The Exhale

She went back to Georgia today with her darling five-year-old daughter. The birthmother of our son, as it turns out, is homeless and will be living in a women's shelter for the time being.

It is still hard for me to reconcile our two lives. Only a couple few weeks ago, we met S and she asked us to be her son's family. Nine days ago he was born, beautiful and healthy with lots of dark hair, gorgeous big brown eyes, and the most delicious skin. Just one week ago, S signed over her parental rights and Asher officially became our son! That day, and for several days following, I felt like I could exhale. The night he was born S changed her mind about not wanting to spend much time with him. We were told, while in the waiting room, that she did want him to spend the night in her room with her. At that point I think Mitch and I both kind of felt like giving up--it was hard to not think of this as a replay of the Indiana situation. Another lesson in trusting God, and I don't think I scored very high marks. After he was born, we were able to spend time with him and give him his first bath. Looking back, I truly enjoyed that time, but did not allow myself to bond with this baby who was not really mine yet. While in the nursery we received word that S had changed her mind again back to the original plan. We would be able to keep him with us in a hospital room all night! Grateful as we were, I wouldn't really let myself think this was a "good sign."

The following day S spent a little time with Asher by herself. During that time I could only think how heart-wrenching it must be for her to spend time with him, knowing she was going to give him to us. And then I'd quickly start to doubt that this was going to actually go through and get all panicky again. By this point I was a little more invested in the little guy having spent many hours together.

Later that day, S and the social worker came to our room for a little more time with us and the baby. She gave us some gifts for him, including many cute outfits, bath towels and washcloths, and a package of diapers. I was overwhelmed and vowed to myself that she'd receive pictures of him in these tiny clothes that she chose specifically for our son.

Looking back, I wonder what we did with all those hours and days we spent in the hospital with Asher and without him. We made the hard decision to have our other three children come up to the hospital to meet him. They were SO excited! I wanted to be as excited, but couldn't help thinking that I might be hurting them in the long run if this turns out to not be their brother after all. Grandparents came and visited, as did some friends. It was all very much like the births of my other kids in some ways. He spent the second night with us in the hospital room and it started to feel like this might really happen.

The following morning, S walked over to our room, alone. She delivered a card she had written to him which is beautiful and touching. I know he will always treasure that. She also gave him his middle name. Immanuel. God with us. We love his middle name and it has become a reminder for us to pray that S and her daughter will know the power of God with (all of) us.

A short time later the paperwork was signed. The process of that took about an hour, and the wonderful adoption agency basically babysat us during that hard time. You can tell they are counselors and we didn't even care that we could tell we were being counseled :). It is too hard to write about all the emotions felt during those minutes and hours. One woman signing her parental rights away. Another, with her husband, accepting this baby as his parents forever. Bittersweet doesn't even come close.

One of the sweetest, most unexpected and healing things happened just before we were all discharged. At the hospital, a photographer takes pictures of babies and their families. I was intially thinking this would be the typical baby mug shot and not that interested. Oh no. These are full on, gorgeous photographs. We were all in S's room and the photographer so gently handled the situation. She first asked S to hold Asher and took some beautiful photos of the two of them together. I know this was hard for her, but I am so very grateful to have those pictures. Next she took some of Mitch with him. During that time, S was standing next to me. She is such a quiet person, and hadn't really verbalized much about her personal feelings on placing her son with us. Watching Mitch wish Asher, however, she said something like, "That is what he needs. He needs a daddy." To have that moment captured with those pictures is truly priceless to me. The process of taking those photographs-first of S and Asher, then Mitch with him, then me, then Mitch and I with him, was what we needed. We were told later by our wonderful agency social worker that it was healing for S, as well. I honestly can't even do justice to how much I value those pictures.

Soon after, we all left the hospital separately. We did not say official goodbyes to S, and I think she wanted it that way. She had some time alone with Asher and did say goodbye to him. I cannot imagine.

And now we've had this week with him as our son! Only in the last day or so can I look at him and not, every single time, think about and grieve for her. I still think about her every day. Especially this day. She and her daughter are headed "home," whatever that means. My understanding is that she does not have much support from family or friends and does not have a home. We have struggled with the feeling that we are taking advantage of her poverty, which is a horrible feeling. The agency helped us remember that we are her way of providing for him. She wants this for him. She wants US for him.

Hard to write any more. I thought the emotions weren't as fresh as last week, but reliving it brings it all up again. If you are reading this, please keep S in your prayers. We so desperately want her to feel peace and, above all, God's ever-loving arms around her.

Working It Out

I'm a little bit resentful today and it's bugging me. After all, we were chosen by S to parent her baby boy! We've met with her twice now, including a trip to Dairy Queen with her 5 year old and our three kids. It went really well, according to the social workers, but she's very hard for us to read. S is extremely shy and low key, so it's difficult to know if she really likes us or not when we're with her. We can't help but contrast her with C, who was talkative, crass, and always spoke her mind. So I find myself keeping everything at arm's length. Trying not to get too excited one minute and trying to let myself get excited the next. S is scheduled to be induced next week Wednesday morning!! So by this time next week we could have our baby boy :). S does not want me in the delivery room and that bums me out a little. I think it will be a little weird that I had such big role in C's labor and delivery and won't be at all a part of this one. But I certainly understand and can respect S's wishes. As of right now she does not want to see the baby at all, but is encouraging us to give him his first bath and be with him as much as we want right after he's born. If there's room in the hospital, we will even be able to stay overnight there and have him in our room! She plans to sign the paperwork 24 hours after he's born (heard that before. sigh.). I am already anticipating that I will struggle internally over not really really bonding with him until the paperwork is done vs. eating up those precious first hours of his life and treating him from that moment like he is ours. Can I still say with confidence that I trust God? Period? Even if this situation would also fall apart, do I know that God is good? Today the answer would be I think so. But it would really really suck.

Back to the resentment. Here's an analogy that hit me yesterday and I hope it's not seen as inappropriate. Already ran it by my hubby and sister, so it's probably ok. Here it is: I feel like we lost our adoption virginity and I'm ticked about it. We were so open and excited with C and her family, finding out so many things about her, envisioning walking off of an airplane with our newborn ready to meet his siblings, etc. This time around is just not the same. And I want it to be in some ways. I am bummed out that some of our excitement about the process is gone and in it's place is skepticism and self protection. Really dislike that. Resentment is not attractive on anyone, so I'm going to work on that today.

As It Happens

What is there to say? Two hours before final paperwork was to be signed, C changed her mind. We received a phone call from our social worker that morning. I think the poor girl took it as hard as we did. Those social workers have a tough job. We were able to go to the hospital and hear it from C herself. She said there was no good explanation except that she had a change of heart and that the baby needed to be with his brothers and sisters. There was no changing her mind back, but I was able to express some feelings to her before we left. The wonderfully amazing social worker even went back and asked C for the necklace I had given her. It was/is intended for the birthmother of our baby, which C no longer is.

Sigh. The last 2 weeks of my life seem sort of like a dream. Or a parenthesis. But surreal somehow. We spent a lot of time, money, and emotional energy in Ft. Wayne, IN, of all places, expecting to return home with our baby boy. Instead, we returned home to our lives and it's picked up where we left off. We have, indeed, gone through different stages of grief, but over all have felt God and his people holding us up. I've been told this type of situation is like a miscarriage. I don't know because I've never had a miscarriage, but it does feel like a loss. Interestingly to me, I don't think I bonded with the baby more than I did with C's other 5 children. To be honest, we would probably have strongly considered taking all of them in if that were a possibility. Truly they are great kids. And highly at risk. I am thankful now that I did not feel comfortable unwrapping the baby's blanket, examining his toes and fingers, changing his diaper, or dressing him in the little clothes I brought along. That would have made this all the harder. We thought he was our Asher, but he is not.

We were kind of left at the altar, so to speak. And yesterday, our social worker called and asked if we are ready for our profile to be shown again. Today. Decision made by birthmom by tomorrow. Wow--is this what it's like to be left at the altar only to go on a date the next week? I think not, because we are very excited and the grief right now is minimal. Am trying not to get hopes too high. After all, even though the agency would LOVE for her to choose us (how badly they feel about the failed adoption last week!), they can't exactly show her only one profile. Bummer. So we will wait and see. I am really praying that whatever the next situation is, I can still be open-hearted. I know SO much about C and her family since I was trying to gather as much information as possible to tell my son later. Don't want to be so guarded next time around that I don't let myself get to know the birthmother. Sigh again. Would really suck if the next one failed, too.

But can I just tell you that we are amazed. God has shown up (as if he ever left) in many, many ways. We are far from understanding the events of the past 2 weeks, but we do have peace. One of the ways my heart has broken through this is with our 8 year old son. He was so very excited to hold his little brother and help take care of him. He has questioned why God would, "Take all my praises to him and throw them in the garbage." That's just how the little guy talks and feels. Even with this, though, it's been an opportunity to talk it through; process it through. We've talked with him about how our lives are a story. And we know the ending is good! We also know the author. The last chapter has been hard, but that doesn't mean the story is finished. And in this we also feel re-energized to go ahead with what we are doing.

Our friend, Sarah, has a song with a line that is fitting to how I feel. We are in a valley of sorts, but, "As it happens, light has no where else to happen but the valley." We can see and feel the light and are going to keep following.

Psalm 116

I said to myself, "Relax and rest.
God has showered you with blessings.
Soul, you've been rescued from death;
Eye, you've been rescued from tears;
And you, Foot, were kept from stumbling."

I'm striding in the presence of God,
alive in the land of the living!
I stayed faithful, though bedeviled,
and despite a ton of bad luck,
Despite giving up on the human race,
saying, "They're all liars and cheats."

What can I give back to God
for the blessings he's poured out on me?
I'll lift high the cup of salvation- a toast to God!
I'll pray in the name of God;
I'll complete what I promised God I'd do,
and I'll do it together with his people.
When they arrive at the gates of death,
God welcomes those who love him.
Oh, God, here I am, your servant,
your faithful servanat: set me free for your service!
I'm ready to offer the thanksgiving sacrifice
and pray in the name of God.
I'll complete what I promised God I'd do,
and I'll do it in company with his people,
In the place of worship, in God's house,
in Jerusalem, God's city.
Hallelujah!

Labor and Deliverance

I really think I have a touch of PTSD. That's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Tuesday and Wednesday morning were perhaps some of the longest, most emotional hours of my life. Birthmama was admitted to the hospital on Monday night to start the process of induction. That evening she had a medication to soften the cervix, but no labor happening. We went back to the hotel to sleep and she slept well, too. (after her nurse suggested Ambien, most likely because she was driving the nurse CRAZY!) I should have split it with C, because I couldn't sleep worth anything. When I got to the hospital Tuesday morning, she was very groggy and out of it.

Tuesday started with Pitocin, the medication to start stronger and harder contractions. Before she was allowed an epidural, C was horrible. No other way to put it. She made her nurse cry and eventually refuse to take care of her, treated all who came into her room like her personal servants, and made it known to us all that she was in a lot of pain and also HUNGRY! At one point after the pit was started, the nurse told her that the baby's heartrate was going down after the contractions. When the possibility of a C-section was raised to try to persuade C to wear the oxygen mask....well....let's just say all hell broke loose. C pretty much told us, with several expletives, that she would not be having a C-section NO MATTER WHAT. She was very adamant about this. At that point, I excused myself from her bedside, went to the nurse's station, and lost it. I could not handle it for that moment that my baby's health or life could be at risk due to her decisions and didn't know how that would be handled if she really did need a C-section, but refused. The nurses were awesome. The one who resigned earlier cried right along with me and said she had never been treated so poorly by a patient in her 19 years of being a nurse. Those sweet women talked me down from the ledge, and one bravely went back into the room with me, and talked C down from her own ledge.

Honestly, I don't even want to relive the rest of it by writing about it. So let's just say that the remainder of that day was more of the same. When the resident tried to break her waters twice, unsuccessfully, I knew we were in trouble. He made the decision at about 6 pm that since she was stalled at 5 cm dilated, with a thick cervix, we'd stop the medication, sleep on it, and wait until morning to start again. As I was leaving to head back to the hotel, C told me she did not want the nurses to have my phone number on her chart. I had given it to them previously so they could reach us if anything happened while we were out. Of course this made me nervous that she had changed her mind. Mitch and I drove back to the hotel, sobbing, cursing, and pretty much ready to get on an airplane and head back to our lives. Without the baby. It was too much drama and we were feeling less sure than ever that this was going to actually happen (placement AND delivery!!) We went back and totally crashed in our hotel room, not knowing how we'd have the energy to go back and do it again on Wednesday.

But we did. By the time we arrived, C's water was broken and progress was being made! She was quiet, but not abusive, so that was positive. Her nurse was wonderful. Within about four hours, she was ready to push. Rookie doc showed up just in time. He only did a few things that made me nervous, so I was happy when his attending turned up to supervise. I had the privelege of holding a leg and counting with the pushes. Within 3, baby was out! The nurses were so great and assumed I'd cut the cord, which I did. Nevermind that the rookie doc clamped it at about 6 inches long!! (not kidding, I have pictures). The nurse told me privately not to worry; she'd take care of it later, which she has :) They gave me his footprints on a receiving blanket and I was the first one to hold that precious boy. He was perfectly healthy and bright eyed. He even peed all over his face about 5 minutes after birth. It was wonderful. I got to hold him for quite a while as C was getting cleaned up. She then held him and I wish I had a better picture of that moment. The look on her face was beautiful. Poor Mitch was in the hallway this whole time, wondering what was happening....Eventually he was able to come in and meet baby and give C a big hug. Love that man.

C's request was to have a few hours alone with her son before we did. We happily obliged and returned later to hold and snuggle him. Since that time yesterday, we have had several hours with him, but always at C's bedside. Her disposition yesterday afternoon was great. She was back to the feisty, but pleasant, C that I have come to know. There have been moments since then that have been,shall we say, dramatic? Over all, however, we do feel that she is sticking with her decision to have us parent this baby.

I am tired just reliving the last few days and haven't even given all the details. Truth really is stranger than fiction. For now, though, am trusting God. Period. Not trusting that He'll make it work out so we get the baby forever, nor that C will turn her life around or that her other kids will have bright futures. Just trusting that He is good. Whatever happens in the end, I know that is true, and that we have been here in Indiana for important reasons.

Love and Laughter at The Chinese Buffet

Today could not have gone much better. My husband is finally here! We slept in and sipped coffee, in no rush to get anywhere this morning. Both of us started getting butterflies around noon since the time was nearing when Mitch would meet C for the first time and we would also meet her children and mother. At 2 o'clock we drove to C's place and she invited us in to hang out with her and her children until her mother and stepfather arrived. Her 4 year old was just as adorable and winsome as yesterday :-) And the rest of the kids....let me say that unless Asher's birthfather is really unattractive and has very strong genes, there's no doubt in my mind that our boy will be HANDSOME! C's children are absolutely gorgeous, both in looks and in personality. Her three boys could almost be triplets by looking at their size. In reality they are 4 1/2, 6 and 7 and reminded us of our 8 and 6 year old boys at home (sniff sniff..miss them and E). Her second daughter was shy, but her oldest daughter asked us some tough questions right off the bat. For example, "What are your kids going to say when you bring home a baby that's not white?" :) We assured her that they already know this. She also asked some tougher questions like, "When will you come back and visit us?" and, "You're not playing us, are you?." She then went on to tell about a movie that she saw on Lifetime about a white family adopting a black baby who were "all nice and everything in the beginning and then the baby's family never saw him again and never got pictures or anything!" The comic relief came when her 10 year old sister, totally straight faced said, "But this is not a Lifetime movie, E." Love those kids.

As it happened, not only did C's mother and stepfather come to visit, but her sister and nephew surprised her by coming as well. I'll admit I was a little overwhelmed at the loud shrieks of delight the whole family let out as they greeted each other. But once again, God met us there. We piled the whole bunch of us into two cars and headed to the Chinese Buffet. Overtaking a very large table, we got enormous amounts of mediocre Chinese food and got to know each other better. In all honestly, it very quickly started to feel like a family reunion of sorts. We laughed until our bellies hurt! C's stepfather constantly took pictures, announcing that they would all be appearing on his facebook page. Her mother told me that I was brave to be in the delivery room with C as she can get quite, ahem, "animated" during labor. When Mitch asked if he should be scared for my well-being, her mother said, "Oh yes! And her emotional well-being, too! You better pray for a double dose of God in that room with her!" So we will see....I've obviously never been on this end of things during a delivery. Mildly scared.. :)

C's children were delightful during lunch and one of the biggest gifts we've been given thus far is the chance to interact with them and take lots of pictures. C's sister expressed her approval of us and told us that she knew we'd take good care of the baby. She also told us that C was told her first baby was a boy. That would be her 14 year old DAUGHTER! Well that would be interesting.

Again, there was more to today than what can or should be blogged about. I am so very grateful that Mitch was here to experience this with me. There is no way I could have done justice to this wonderful family by description. Both of us being there today was important. And so we trust God and his timeline again. If Asher would have already been born, we would not have had today. And today was very, very wonderful.

Trust and Coincidence

Yesterday pretty much sucked. And the weird thing is, I'm not sure why, although I have a few guesses. I woke up in the morning composing a letter in my mind that I will write to the jerk attorney we fired. That just started me off in a bad mood. After that I drove around the entire city of Ft. Wayne looking for a post office (yes I had looked up directions, which were wrong, and yes I asked for directions, which were also wrong...). Now perhaps my foul mood had something to do with the fact that I didn't get any coffee until around 11 a.m. Quite possible. I think a more plausible explanation, however, is that I was trying to process all the negative junk associated with adoption---both ours specifically and also generally. There are some things that C told me that are hard- things I wish I didn't know, in fact. There is a person in our life who has been extremely negative about us adopting, and I found myself thinking about that a lot. I also locked myself out of my room, which didn't help (although my friends Kaitlyn and Tamesha at the front desk are my new bffs, so not SO bad). The cost of adoption is tremendous, and I just got really pissed at that attorney who is clearly making money off the whole deal and yet can't even fake some compassion.

BUT....

Today was a new day. Over the past 3 months, since we first felt God nudging/shoving us to adopt, there have been too many coincidental things happen to be coincidental. Take this morning. I was working out in the little gym here at my temporary residence and a guy doing his laundry asks me for directions someplace. We got to talking and, of course, our adoption came up. We talked for quite some time before he told me that he and his siblings were raised in foster care. He lived in 8 different homes growing up! His family is staying here for a couple of weeks as his wife just started a new job and they do not have a permanent residence yet. He gave me his insight on foster care, adoption, having biological siblings that he doesn't really know, birthmother issues, etc. Invaluable information from first hand experience. And then he invited me to have dinner with his family that night! They took me to the KFC buffet and it was GOOD. The food and the conversation. His wife and daughter are delightful and funny. Plus they like Dave Ramsey, so of course we are kindred spirits. Found out they are also Christians and actually didn't think I was nutso when I told them that this process of adopting has been a remarkable spiritual journey guided by God himself. They understood. They have had that kind of experience, too. And now I have even more people to bring Asher "home" to that will be so excited to meet him!

Today I also got to hear the sweet sound of my baby's heartbeat for the first time. The setting itself was a bit harried, I will admit. Unfortunately, C's doctor was running very late, which in turn was going to make C very late for an especially important meeting and also for her kids getting home from school. She was frustrated, mad, uncomfortable, and we all knew it! I actually love that about her. You do not have to guess how she's feeling. So the heartbeat part was quite brief. More of a formality for C and for the doctor, but so special for me.

Now, there may be some of my friends reading this who will take offense at what I'm going to say next, but hopefully not. I was a little disgruntled with the doc. You see, he is not an OB specialist. His specialty is family practice. And he's a resident. These things by themselves might not have mattered so much to me except that he kept saying things like, "I will run it by the man," and acting like he was still learning their electronic medical records system. When he said to C, "Oh! We still haven't finished up your past medical history of your other children's births!" I thought I might take over the appointment myself. We have the same EMR at my office, so I'm fairly certain I could have navigated it and entered the appropriate information in half the time....And by the way, doc, I thought YOU were "the man." I mean, you have been C's main doc for her entire pregnancy, right? So if you are a family practice resident, I mean no disrespect. Just don't tell your patients that you have to run things by "the man." It just gives off a weird vibe that makes us not trust you.

On to more positive things....I was able to spend some amazing time with C's 4 1/2 year old son. I'm sure he didn't think it was so amazing, but being able to see what he looks like, learn a little of his personality, and just read him a book are things I'm so grateful for! And he is stinking ADORABLE! Also found out that C's mom is coming into town tomorrow to meet us. She helped C choose our family from the profiles she looked at and also chose Asher's middle name. I just found out today that his middle name will be Gabriel. About cried when she told me. Gabriel was on our short list of possible first names for our baby. I have always loved that name and think Asher Gabriel M sounds just right.

So baby, we are ready for you! Uncertain-of-himself doc will not give us an induction date....despite two irritable women in his office today lobbying for it. Just trying to trust God's timing. So far I would say it's been impeccable.

p.s.

C and I also had the bonding experience of firing our attorney today. He was a real jerk and not compassionate at all. In a weird way it was kind of fun to see each other get all riled up. Trusting that God will work this part of it out, too.

Processing the Process

Today is a day I'll remember forever. One of those firsts that you tell your kids about; and I'll be telling one of our kids about it for very special reasons. Today is the day that I met Asher's birthmama for the first time. Let me tell you, she is gorgeous and funny and opinionated and outspoken and very, very brave. My mom would refer to her as "a little spitfire," which she has been known to call me, too. Maybe that's why C and I got along so well. There are so many things that I learned about C today---many of which I will save for my son and tell him when the time is right. Some things I learned were painful to hear and some were just fun details. I learned that he has been kicking hard for many months, even waking her up at night! She warned me that we should watch out since he likely has her personality :). I found out that she loves buffalo wings and french fries as she ordered both today at lunch---with extra blue cheese dressing. Her teenaged daughter is giving her some trouble, mostly with the clothing she chooses and "talking back." She is "15 going on 30." Her 10 year old daughter is the perceptive one and is getting a bike for her birthday. The three younger boys are a handful---always want to be outside and very physically active :). I gave her the necklace that matches the one I am wearing right now. C immediately put it on and gave me a hug, and we talked about it's symbolism. She reiterated to me her desire to have me in the delivery room (!) and that while she wants to hold the baby and have at least a few pictures with him, he is ours. She wants US to be the ones that bond with him immediately. I will pick her up and take her to her doctor's appointment this Friday at which point these two unlikely new friends will beg the poor man to induce her labor. (yes, I know the risks and down side to that, but there are reasons I'm not sharing with all y'all that this would be a good thing!) If he resists our attempted coercion, I will get to take her and the kids to lunch and maybe the park on Saturday. Mitch arrives on Sunday and I can't wait to joyfully introduce him to my new friend.

There is much more. I am still processing and feeling a bit drained emotionally. Some of the "more" will come out later, but some will be reserved only for my precious baby. For now this "little spitfire" is so grateful to have met another and blessed that our lives will forever be linked through Asher.

Gratitude

I spent my first full day in Ft. Wayne, Indiana, today. Our baby is not due for nearly 2 weeks, but we decided I would come here to wait. C has so very graciously decided to allow me in the delivery room with her---an opportunity I do not want to miss! Since her labor is always very quick, there would be no way for us to make it to Ft. Wayne in time if we waited in Salt Lake for her to call us when she is in labor. So I have hunkered down at the Candlewood Suites and am familiarizing myself with Ft. Wayne.

It's funny how God works. Since I work half time and am a mom of three, I rarely am by myself for more than a few hours. Now I find myself in a city where I don't know anyone, by myself, with who knows how much time on my hands before Asher is born. In trying to think of ways to be productive while away from home (I am my mother's daughter, after all), I decided that I'd get my hair cut today. Not sure what anyone did before the internet! I was able to find a great salon on line about 5 minutes from my hotel. Since I'm not pressed for time (weird feeling), I just drove to the salon and walked in, assuming I'd need to schedule for later in the week. As it turned out, the salon had just finished up a staff meeting early, so about 5 of them were just waiting for their first appointments to arrive! A stylist named Sandra took me right back and gave me a glorious haircut with sassy bangs that I just love :-) More than that, however, we had a great conversation. Sandra is African American and, admittedly, I was a little nervous on what her opinion might be on us adopting an African American child. As always seems the case, a hair appointment turns into therapy. She was wonderful, encouraging, affirming, and gave great tips on caring for AA hair! (I did confess to her that I was a little relieved when I found out we're having a boy as keeping up with AA girl hair seems a lot harder!) Sandra was yet another great person placed in my path to let us know that we are doing the right thing. As I left, she made me promise to return to the salon after Asher is born so she can meet him. I will definitely take her up on that!

The Village: Part 2

It hit me again this past week. Our little/growing family is tremendously blessed to be surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses/family/friends who support and love us in very tangible ways. My birthday was this past Wednesday. Not only did my sister offer to have our daughter for the afternoon, but so did my mother-in-law. Sister won (or did mother-in-law...hmmmm). I had a wonderful afternoon perusing the bookstore and being all introverted. Loved it. Thursday I took the afternoon off of work. While I was putzing around getting some housewifey things done at home, my dad was busily building shelves in our storage area. On Friday I had to leave town for a work thing. A friend happily agreed to have daughter in the afternoon, taking her to the boys' school at 3 where my mom gathered them all and took them to her house until M could pick them up after work. Since I was going to be gone on Saturday, I was sensing that M would be stressed with 3 soccer games, 2 birthday parties, and picking up our co-op food as a single parent. Didn't think twice about asking our twenty-something buddy to be his man-wife for the day and help out. He wasn't able to because he was working, but totally would have otherwise. (And for the record, the hubs did a FAB job with the kids and soccer and parties and all!) Today we got to hang out with one of my brothers and his family. They have so very generously loaned us some interest free dollars so we can swing this adoption. My other brother and his wife have been in near daily contact with us over the past couple of months as we go through this adoption process together. They are planning to adopt soon, too! And just now, while putting our kiddos to bed, twenty-something buddy did our dishes. Again. For like the thousanth time.

So, litte baby boy of ours, it has nothing to do with your dad and I, but you are one lucky dude to be joining this fantabulous village of family and friends! We love you already and can't wait to meet you!

First Date

That's a little how it felt. We were matched with C on Monday and had our first phone conversation with her yesterday morning. The time was set and M and I were nervous but excited to meet the woman who is giving our boy life! The jitters beforehand were not unlike what I remember (loooooonnnnnnggggg ago) when waiting for M to call in the early dating time. What if I say something stupid? What if she doesn't like us after all? We were definitely relieved that our wonderful social worker would be on the phone with us to smoothe things over if it got awkward (too bad THAT wasn't available for dating situations..) We finally got the conference call all worked out with all of us on the line. C started to talk and humbled us greatly by, right off, assuring us that she was firm in her decision to place the baby and that we didn't need to worry that she would change her mind. She asked us if we were ready, and if we had chosen a name, and what our other children thought of all this. She seemed more concerned about us than herself. When I asked who would be with her in the hospital my heart broke for her. She said that possibly her 14 year old daughter would be with her, but most likely she would be alone. I can't imagine going through labor and deliver alone. I felt weird about saying it, but told her that if she wanted me to, and if we could make it to Indiana on time, I would love to support her through the delivery. She's thinking about it. We were so delighted to hear that she really wants her other 5 children to meet us at the hospital! I so hope that she'll feel comfortable with us taking some pictures of them. I know our boy will treasure that in years to come. A lot more was said and we are hoping a lot more will be expressed in future conversations. C has a doctor's appointment on Monday and will ask if he will induce her a little early! Hopefully we can have a better idea on the date and make it in time for the delivery. We are so excited to meet our littlest boy......Asher! (Did anyone guess?)

Happy and Blessed

Yesterday morning was rough. Our three year old had been vomiting since 2 a.m. My husband, being the stats lover that he is, counted. 12 times from 2 a.m. to 8 :45 a.m. Needless to say, none of the three of us got any sleep. Generally when the kids are sick on days both M and I work, he gets to stay home with them. It's hard for me to skip work because I always have a full schedule of patients to see, some of whom have already waited a long time to get in. Normally I'm pretty ok with leaving a vomiting child to go be with adults doing what I love....but yesterday I was just plain exhausted and felt a little like I should be the one to stay home and cuddle with my daughter. And then there was the added undercurrent of stress, knowing that two birthmoms would make a decision that day after reading our profile over the weekend. Admittedly, I was pretty crabby.

When we hadn't heard any news from the agency by mid-morning, I called and left a message for one of the caseworkers and e-mailed the other. My hope that maybe we had been chosen was getting less by the hour. But then she called. First thing she said was, "Guess what?" I think in my near-comatose/post venti latte buzzed state I just couldn't really believe what she was saying right off! The birthmom in Indiana chose us. She's excited about us, in fact!

It's only just hitting me today. We have a baby boy that will be born in about a month. A woman just a little younger than me, with 5 children already, thinks that we will do a good job raising her little boy. Even now it makes me smile and cry at the same time. We are so excited! And terrified. And nervous. And hoping we can stand up under the weight of all that adoption brings, both glorious and excruciating.

I so much want to share our baby's name with everyone. My wise husband, however, wants to wait and be sure that baby's birthmom (that sounds SOOO impersonal now...but for privacy's sake won't use her name)doesn't have any negative associations with it first. We get to meet her by phone on Thursday morning. My mind is racing with questions I want to ask her. And I want her to like us! Anyway, if she is supportive, we will officially announce our baby boy's name on Thursday afternoon :-) Until then....the teaser is the title of this post. Google away, my friends!

It's Not You, It's Us

In a weird way, this whole process feels like speed dating. Birthmothers are presented with some pictures and a little information about our family in the form of a profile we put together, and we are given a little information about the birthmom. Then, in a matter of a couple of days, you are either "a match," or not. We have now been looked at by 3 birthmothers and not chosen by any of them. When one doesn't choose us, there is another ready to look at our profile. Speed dating. Admittedly, by the third time, we have felt a little bit of self pity, what's wrong with us, and feelings of doubt about this whole idea. Maybe we're not supposed to do this.

Then God and some good people step in to give us needed words of encouragement and "we've been there" and "chin up!" We know our baby is already known by God, likely being "knit together in his (or her) mother's womb" right now. The three babies whose birthmothers did not choose us are simply not ours and never were meant to be. So in the mean time we will try to be patient, enjoy sleeping through the night, and participate in a little more speed dating before we get to meet our newest member of the family.

The Gift

They came today only 2 days after I ordered them online! Over the weekend, one of my goals was to find some type of gift for the yet-to-be-determined birthmother of our child. What does one give as a thank you for the gift of a child? The task seemed overwhelming, but I knew I wanted something to express our gratitude and love to the woman that gave our baby life. It did seem a little weird to be ordering something when we have not been matched yet...But the reality that we could be matched very quickly with a birthmom that could be due any day made me want to have something in hand, ready for that moment.

What I finally found, after probably cumulative hours of looking, was a necklace. It is simple and beautiful, consisting of two silver circles intertwined. I decided to get two. One is for me and one is for the birthmom. To me, these necklaces symbolize the way our lives will forever be intertwined through our child, no matter what type of contact we have with her in the future.

I have no idea if our birthmom will like or appreciate this gift. We know nothing about her yet. I feel a sense of relief, however, that even if we were called tomorrow, matched with a baby born that same day, I would have something special to give our birthmom. And I really hope she does like it.

It's Already Taking A Village

Since we decided to adopt, Mitch and I have had many times when we look at each other and say, "What are we thinking?" If we didn't feel so strongly that this is God's plan and not ours, we might just bag the whole thing. I mean, our three kids overwhelm us at times. Adding a fourth? We might be nuts.

But here's the thing: We have a village. Take our oldest son's birthday party this past weekend. We planned to have 17 boys ages 5-8 to our house, then take them to a dinosaur park that is 45 minutes away. It seemed to take all our might just to get the silly evite out in time, figure out the guest list, and sort of plan the cake (a dinosaur era timeline....long story). So by the time the actual party day rolled around, we still hadn't solidified which grownups would 1)drive all those kids to the park, 2) be willing to also keep track of them with us at said park and 3) lend us kid hauling vehicles to drive said kids to said park. Very last minute we made a few calls and ended up with one grandma's minivan, sister's suburban, other grandma driving and lending minivan, and twenty-something bachelor friend agreeing to drive and kid-wrangle. Oh, yeah. We also needed to get rid of the three year old, so sent her with suburban-lending sister.

The party was GREAT! Oldest son loved it and we didn't even lose one kid. Our village came through with flying colors.....again. And since the party (only 3 days ago,) there have already been more instances where we've been bailed out by the village.

Sometimes we feel guilty that running our family requires this village. It can feel like we aren't good enough parents to keep it all afloat on our own. But we are deeply grateful all in the same breath. Our family is so much better for the village! So here's a shout out to our village people. You know who you are and we hope you know how much you are loved and appreciated. Speaking of the village, kid 2 and 3 are being dropped off by grandma as we speak.....

Deja Vu

I was kind of neurotic on Tuesday. The agency website lists "available situations" of babies that are to be born soon and have not been matched yet. On Tuesday there was a baby listed that was born on Sunday at 31 weeks gestation. He was doing well, but expected to be in the NICU for 4-5 more weeks. I couldn't get a hold of Mitch, so just decided to call the agency for more information and to tell them we were interested in this situation if the birth mother would be interested in us! Well......after 3 phone calls and 2 e-mails to two different people, I was frustrated. I mean how long does it take to quickly return an e-mail, right? THEY were the ones that put this baby's information on the website, actively looking for a family, right?

Then an e-mail and a phone call yesterday put me in my place. As it happens, the premature baby situation is very tricky as the birth mom spent 2 weeks in the hospital pre-delivery and without insurance. The hospital bill is very high (like $50,000) and in most adoptive cases, the adoptive family pays the medical bills of the birthmother. The social workers at the agency have been very busy trying to work this out as it would be extremely difficult to find adoptive parents that could afford this in addition to the regular adoption costs.....

The team at the agency ALSO had another mom deliver early this week and are working on finding placements for about 8 other babies. Additionally, a woman walked in to the agency yesterday with her 4 month old son, desiring to place him for adoption.

The crew at Heart to Heart has been BUSY. Understatement. And they DO care and apologized for not getting back to me sooner.....boy did I feel dumb. God bless these people for what they do every day. Can't imagine the emotions of it all.

So at the end of my phone conversation, the social worker asked if she could show our profile to a woman with a baby girl due on April 14!! Like less than 3 weeks. And then said that the EARLIEST they might induce is April 1st!! Like next week! Wowsas. Of course I said yes, please show our profile and now we are having a waiting weekend again....trying not to get hopes up, yet thinking it's possible we could have a baby in a week or two. So do I start getting things, girl things, ready? Do I just play it cool and wait to hear if she's chosen us before doing anything? I've pretty much decided to wait. But that doesn't stop me from getting attached to yet another birthmom and baby--not to mention her other daughter, who is five. I hurt for these sisters who will not grow up together and hope that whomever the adoptive family is, somehow a healthy relationship of some sort can be maintained. At five years old I'm sure the child has some thoughts on mom having a baby and baby going to live with another family....It's these kinds of things that are keeping me distracted and causing me to become choked up at random times.

What a journey adoption is. Despite all the heart-hurt things about it all, I know that we will be very glad we started down this road. More news on Monday!

And The Winner Is.....

No one. Yet. Birthmom in Virginia did not choose our family for her baby, nor did she choose the other two families whose profiles she was looking at over the weekend. The social worker said she did not connect with any of us. I really am ok with this from our selfish perspective, but can't get away from feeling very disheartened for her. To have made the decision to place your baby for adoption, with a due date in a few weeks, and not have found that baby's family must be very, very hard. She will receive more profiles to look at this week and I pray that she finds a family whom she knows, without doubt, is her baby's adoptive family. The social worker told Mitch today that they are hoping to find placements for EIGHT babies this week! So we may be getting another call soon....... Stand by.

All You Need Is Love......And Racial Identity

Still thinking about and praying for Virginia mom today, as well as her three children including the one yet to be born. There are so many things to process through this, er, process....Today I am thinking a lot about how it will be, and if we will do a good job, parenting an African American child. I have read many different opinions on this. Some are for transracial adoption. Some are vehemently against. One AA social worker basically said that one has no business adopting a child of another ethnicity unless there are faces that look similar to his or hers around the dinner table on a frequent basis. Here's the thing. We have many friends in transracial families. One family with AA twins is in our home weekly; another adoptive mom and I have been friends since elementary school. We are so grateful for their support and understanding throughout this journey we are on! We know without doubt that they will be there for us and for our child as we navigate this new chapter. My younger brother and his wife are planning to adopt transracially, as well. It feels so good to know that our child will have a cousin that looks similar to him or her. However, we do not have African American adults in our lives or home on any regular basis. Sigh. I do not doubt that God himself has called us to adopt transracially. I have friends who completely get this and friends who completely do not. But this is hard. Finding myself grieving, in a way, for my yet to be adopted child is a strange emotion. I will never be able to tell or show my own child what it is like to live as an African American. Undoubtedly there will be holes that we cannot fill, no matter how much love we already have for this child. And that stinks. I keep coming back to the reassurance that, whatever racial identity we have, our true identity is found in Christ. And I pray that we can convey that to ALL of our children. Boy, do I have a lot to learn...

Officially A Mess

I'm supposed to be cleaning the house right now. We have people coming over tonight and there's laundry to fold, dishes to do, floor to mop, and dusting....always dusting. Thing is, I cannot stop thinking about a 20 year old woman in Virginia whom I've never met. I know hardly anything about her, but today she is looking at a scrapbook of sorts about our family and trying to determine if we are to be her baby's adoptive family. My heart is all twisted up for her and the emotion is something I've never had before. The baby she is carrying may not be ours in the end, but knowing the little that I do about her makes me care deeply for this woman. All I can do today is pray. Pray for her. Pray for us. Pray for that precious baby she carries. And get to dusting.