At the Beginning...Again

Beginnings are awkward.

The beginning of a new friendship is filled with did-she-really-mean-it-when-she-said-she-had-fun?s.  And will-she-totally-judge-me-for-the-lip-prints-on-my-patio-door?s.  Followed by the did-she-notice-that-I-had-no-clue-what-she-meant-when-she-started-talking-about-thieves-and-a-diffuser?s.  And the if-she's-one-of-those-people-who-actually-makes-the-things-she-pins-on-Pinterest-we-totally-can't-be-friends.  

Beginning a new relationship is even worse.  Do you call him, or wait for him to call you?  Is he playing hard to get, or does he just not like you all that much?  And are you supposed to play hard to get or drop subtle hints that you like him?  Does he find your nervous habits endearing...or annoying?  Is this whole dating thing really worth the effort?

Then there's the beginning of a new stage in your life -- like becoming a parent.  You get ready to leave the hospital and find yourself thinking, Are they really just going to let us walk out of here with this tiny person?  That doctor had to notice that we have no clue what we're doing.  Ohmyword, we are responsible for keeping this itty-bitty human alive.  And then there are the three months after that when you never sleep and you smell like spit-up 24/7 and you forget really important things (like the fact that your shoes should match when you leave the house).  

Fast forward a few years to the time when you go from one child to two (or, if you're crazy like us, one child to three).  Not only are you suddenly playing zone instead of man defense, the child who used to have you all to themselves goes completely ballistic and you find yourself parenting two toddlers and a psycho.  Fun times.

 In case you haven't guessed, beginnings are not my favorite.  That being said, my life is pretty much chock full of beginnings at the moment.

It's the beginning of 2015.  I'm not huge on New Year's Resolutions.  (Mostly because they seem to last an average of about 6-1/2 days in my world.)  Official resolutions or not, the start of a new year is a reflective time.  Even I, Miss-N0-Resolutions, like to think back on memories from the past year and look ahead to goals and plans for the coming year.  It thrills my little OCD self to fill up my calendar and make fun lists.  I mean, how can a crossed-out list with an alliterative title not give you chills?  How lovely is this?

15 Fun Things to Do as A Family in 2015

Movie at the theater

Camping

Visit the children's museum

Build a treehouse

But I digress.

I'm trying to begin blogging...again.  It's kind of nerve-wracking.  I know I used to blog, but I'm pretty sure half my brain has died since then.  I swear having three kids under five kills brain cells...or steals them...or something.  Or maybe it's just the sleep deprivation talking.  Then there's the fact that I used to blog in complete glorious silence.  As I type this, there are three little people giving me a make-over.  (You try piecing together a coherent sentence while one child is not-so-gently putting pig tails in your hair and another is spilling eye shadow on your keyboard.  It's. Not. Easy.)

(As a side note, I totally used to judge adoptive moms who blogged prolifically during their adoption process and then dropped off the face of the earth after coming home.  I swore I wouldn't do that.  I had every good intention of continuing to chronicle our adoption journey after coming home.  Then we came home.  So, if you're one of those moms....I'm so, so sorry. I didn't get it.  I was wrong.)

The most monumental new beginning in our life is we're starting the adoption process to go to Ch*na for Baby #4.  We're jumping back into the paperwork-gathering trenches.  Once again, we are collecting birth certificates and getting blood tests and donating a good portion of our life savings to F*dEx.

Even though beginnings aren't my favorite, it's hard to imagine what life would be like without them.  

All my besties were once strangers.  Those super awesome girls I call when I need to vent or cry or drink wine eat chocolate were once the acquaintances who made me totally self-conscious about the processed food in my pantry.  

I had a first date with my husband.  The amazing guy who has stuck with me for eleven years and been across an ocean to bring our babies home and still thinks I'm hot even with gray hair was once the guy I wasn't sure whether to call...or ignore...or kiss.     

I survived the first days home with our littles.  My three awesome kids who are getting crazy big and who love each other bunches and who are only psycho on rare occasions were each brand-new once.

So...here's to awkward, difficult, unpredictable new beginnings.  I don't love you, but I know you're just one small part of the story.  And I know you're worth it.  In fact, I'm actually a little excited to find myself standing at the beginning...all over again.

(Please tell me mascara comes off of computer screens.)

Our Adoption Story - Part 1

Adoption has been on our hearts for a long time.  While Jeremy and I were engaged, we talked about building our family through adoption.  We have both always wanted a big family (Jeremy often says he wants his own basketball team - and subs!), so eventually adopting a child or children just seemed to make sense to us.  We planned to have four biological children and then adopt several more through foster care.  


God had a completely different plan for us.  After a year and a half of marriage, we felt that we were ready to grow our family.  Within a few months, we began to suspect that something was wrong.  Our struggle with infertility is its own story (which I hope to share here sometime in the future).  Those of you who have been there know the heartbreaking disappointment a couple feels when their arms remain empty month. after month. after month.  after month.  (If you are walking through this valley right now, please know that I am here to listen if you want to talk.  I don't have any profound answers, but I have been there and know how much it means to feel support, prayers, and love from those around you.)


At different points, Jeremy and I came to the realization that we were ready to pursue adoption.  The timing wasn't what we had originally thought, but we still felt that our hearts had been drawn to adoption for a reason.  As we began to research our options (a process that feels a whole lot like standing in front of a fire hose and unscrewing the nozzle), we were initially drawn to international adoption from Haiti.  For a variety of reasons (including the fact that we hadn't nearly reached the ancient required age of 35), that door closed.


After A LOT more talking, thinking, and praying, we decided to adopt domestically.  Again, that is an entire story itself, but it led to the birth of our daughter, Emma Kiersten, in July 2008.  Emma's adoption was an amazing experience.  We love, love, love being parents (Terrible Twos and all), and we can't wait to meet the other children God brings into our family.


We began our second adoption journey in the summer of 2009.  This time we felt convinced that we should pursue international adoption.  (We also felt slightly more prepared, having braved the juggernaut of adoption paperwork once.)  Again, we thought of Haiti, but it still wasn't a good fit for our family.  Our second thought was a country in Africa.  Jeremy and I visited the Central African Republic in 2002, and had seriously considered missions to Africa when Jeremy graduated from seminary.


We researched Ethiopia, Rwanda, and Ghana, before deciding on Ghana.  We were told that there were many toddler boys waiting in Ghana, and this seemed to fit perfectly with our desire to adopt one or two children, ages 0-4.  In the fall of 2009, we were accepted by an agency with a pilot (new) program in Ghana.


We spent about ten months compiling our dossier (adoption-ese for the gigantic stack of paperwork you send to the country you are adopting from).  In July of 2010, we were finally ready to send everything to Ghana.  Our agency told us we would probably receive a referral (be matched with a child/ren) within one to four months.  Since that time, the program in Ghana has hit snag after snag.  


Each new obstacle in our process has been incredibly frustrating.  Adoption is one of those things in life that teaches you how completely not in control you really are - a hard lesson for a control freak like me.  However, God has used our time of waiting to open my eyes and my heart to an entirely new perspective on adoption.


Last October I read Brianna's post here.  In it she wrote the following paragraph (as well as some other REALLY powerful, thought-provoking ideas).


"The problem is that there are so very many children needing homes TODAY, right now, this very second.  They are not generally, however, healthy baby girls.  (With the masses waiting in line for them.)  They are teenagers, sibling sets, HIV+, born with Down syndrome, diabetic, hearing-impaired, developmentally delayed.  They have Hep B and cleft palates and Cerebral Palsy.  They have "unknowns."  THEY are the truly waiting children.  THEY are the faces that comprise what we call the global orphan crisis.  Kids waiting (and waiting, and waiting) for families.  Considered unadoptable by most adopting families."


Brianna's words wouldn't leave my mind and heart.  Jeremy and I felt we were being pretty open in our child request.  (We weren't asking for a healthy baby girl, after all.)  We were considering children of either gender - preschool-aged children even.  But was God asking us to consider something else?  Had we truly thought about adopting a waiting child?


(Please don't think I am saying that it is wrong to adopt a newborn, or that every family should be open to any waiting child.  That's not what I intend to communicate at all.  I do think that God wants to challenge our ideas of what a "perfect family" or a "perfect child" looks like to us.  That is what He began doing in my heart as I read Brianna's post.)


As I pondered Brianna's words, I decided to learn more about ethical adoption, waiting children, and special needs.  My research led me to the blog of an adoptive mom named Adeye.  I was especially drawn to her posts about her family's adoption of two little girls with Down Syndrome.  This post opened my eyes to the incredibly horrific circumstances that some children face every single day.  I felt blind-sided as I read about a precious five-year-old little one who weighed 16 pounds and spent her days alone and without love in a room full of cribs.  


From here, our story has taken some amazing twists and turns, but this is all I'm going to share today.  Mostly because I want you to hear from Adeye, too.  Don't stop reading.  Click here and meet sweet Hailee.

What It Means to Be Held

Starting a blog was something I was supposed to do months ago.  Being a crazy perfectionist, I got stuck naming my blog.  Seriously.  I have been authoring blog posts in my mind for months, and I haven't shared them because the perfect name for my blog hadn't struck me yet.  Ridiculous, I know.


So, while I am still waiting for an amazing name to pop into my brain, I did manage to come up with a name that is very meaningful to me.  Five years ago, I was walking through the darkest valley of my life.  My husband and I were battling infertility, and I was utterly devastated.  (I'll share more about that journey in another post.)  


As I struggled to hang on to God's faithfulness in the midst of my pain, I heard the song "Held" by Natalie Grant played on the radio.  The words spoke right to my heart.


We're asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it's unfair
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held

My Heavenly Father held me then, as I lay sobbing in the midst of my broken dreams.  His faithful arms were strong enough to hold me as I cried, raged, and questioned.  God kept his promise in my darkest hours.


Now I am a mommy, and I LOVE it.  Our daughter, Emma, was adopted in 2008.  She's full of two-year-old spunk, mischief, and unfettered curiosity.  Her antics make me laugh every day.  I can't get enough of the times when she spontaneously tells me, "Mommy, I love you so much!"


I have climbed the mountain on the other side of my valley of sadness, but I do not know what the trail ahead will hold.  We are starting a new journey as we follow the Lord's leading to bring two children from Eastern Europe into our family (more about that later, too).  I'm a total control freak.  I'm not a huge fan of uncertainty, so following God one small step at a time drives me insane is challenging for me.  


Daily, I am learning that the same God who held me in my grief is holding me today.  He holds my dreams for my family.  He holds the waiting orphans whose pictures break my heart.  He holds the future, and he is faithful.