Long time, no blog...

I realized a few days ago that it's been five months since I last typed anything here.  FIVE months.  That's a long absence for a blogger...or rather an amateur like myself.  Much has happened in that time.  I've just really been enjoying life, learning to be present for my husband and daughter.  Too much has happened to even be able to type it all out.  And I can't count the number of times I've been in a moment where the thought crossed my mind, "...this would make a great post..."  Needless to say, I've wanted, and I've searched for time to sit down and empty my thoughts, but like I've experienced before, the time just hasn't been right.

So I've come to a place where I realize that it's better for me to take a step back - To let these mumbled, jumbled thoughts mature into what they're meant for... And to let God reveal His purpose(s) in mine and my family's life before I try and make sense of every little detail, question, and confusion here in this online abyss.

As I go back and read past posts, I remember how important this space has been to me over the past four years.  I reread the story of a very young, very scared, and newlywed girl, struggling to trust a very BIG God with her lifelong dream.  And I reread all about how angry, and misguided, and entitled she felt over something that was never really hers to begin with.  But then I reread the turning points, too... How God stretched me, and grew me, and stripped everything away so that all I could see or want had no choice but to align with Heavenly plans for my life.  And I reread all about the provision that was given as I learned for the first time the REAL truth about the God I believe in... And then all about the miracle I had no idea about; the miracle that reshaped my faith, and taught me the goodness of God.  I'm so thankful for this story that has been written for me.  I'm thankful, too, that God's not finished writing it yet.  It's been a long, hard road.. But I wouldn't be who I am today, and my faith wouldn't still be growing like it is, if God wouldn't allow me to be in such a constant place of dependency on Him.

And with that said, I think it's just time for me to put this blog on hold.  I feel it like I did before, and then IT happened... and I don't know what it all means right now.  I know God is doing big things in my life; He's grown new passions, and began leading our family in a direction that was SO far off my radar even just a year ago.  And when I think about the possibilities...I don't even know what to do with myself.

So here we go again.  Just gonna take a break for now, and come back to share more when the words are ready.  Just gonna leave it at that.  It's bittersweet, for sure.

"Abraham never wavered in believing God's promise.  In fact, his faith grew stronger, and in this he brought glory to God.  He was fully convinced that God is able to do whatever he promises.  And because of Abraham's faith, God counted him as righteous.  And when God counted him as righteous, it wasn't just for Abraham's benefit.  It was recorded for our benefit, too, assuring us that God will also count us as righteous if we believe in him, the one who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead." 

- Romans 4:20-24 NLT

"For who can know the Lord's thoughts? Who knows enough to give him advice? And who has given him so much that he needs to pay it back?  For everything comes from him and exists by his power and is intended for his glory.  All glory to him forever! Amen." - Romans 11:34-36 NLT

What I didn't know...

It's been months since I have last been able to sit down and pour my heart out over a keyboard. Being a parent is HARD.  Being an adoptive parent?  REAL hard.  And it's not that I elevate my life of parenting above others, because I truly believe that regardless of how you become a parent, or who you parent, it's one of life's biggest challenges.  Each experience is different, and unique in it's difficulties, and in it's victories.  But I only have my story to tell, and I am one that HATES the comparison game, so today I had to make a conscious effort to lay my comparisons down, shed the "tough skin" that disables me from being vulnerable, and instead, embrace it all:  the milestones, the setbacks, the joy, the sadness, the humor, and anger, strengths, weaknesses, victories, and even the failures... Every single one of them that all add up to make one heck of a past 15 months.. a very bittersweet 15 months.

I have never known exhaustion like this. ever. in. my. life.  She is a talker, this child of mine. And she doesn't even say very many words yet.  She knows what she means, we're just trying to learn her ways and interpret this newfound language.  She has more attitude and sass than her two and a half foot frame can handle.  She started walking 2 months ago, and I'm pretty sure she learned to run two seconds later.  She's fast.  She's hungry.  She is LOUD.  And she hates to sit still.  Hates it.  Her will is so strong, that there are days when I feel like my will as a parent can't even compete.  So I relax a little too much and let her push me a little farther than I'd like, so the next day we are set back quite a few steps in the obedience department.  She is rough.  And heavy.  She gives me bruises.  So so messy.  And she likes to steal my food, but doesn't ever want to share hers.

Then there's the sickness.  Selah is only 15 months old, but I feel like she has been sick for half of those.  It has gone down like this:

2 months old: first cold

4 months old:  first stomach bug

6 months old: another cold

8 months: ear infections

9 months: respiratory infection

10 months: more ear infections

11 months: more ear infections + surgery for tubes in the ears; major stomach bug (that both me and my husband caught)

13 months:  UTI

15 months:  stomach bug (minus any puking), ear infection, fever

Whew.  The poor girl.  She's had a rough time.  And as her mom, I've had a rough time taking care of her.  I feel like this amount of sickness has bred this major fear in me that every time I go into her room to get her out of bed, that I'm gonna get blindsided by some other ailment.  I've been desperately looking forward to this long stretch (that at this point seems imaginary) of good health.  Don't get me wrong, though.  I count my blessings and the fact that these sicknesses are minor in the grand scheme of things.  But it hasn't been easy.  She's had her fair share (and a lot of other babies fair shares) of antibiotics, and I pray every single day that her little body would be granted some insanely beautiful immune system boost.  I feel like I look to the sky just about every day, reminding God that we could use a little break.  "Hey there Lord, are you listening??"

I waited and waited for years to be a mom.  I struggled to wrap my head around how it can be so easy for so many families to get pregnant.  I accepted the word "waiting", and got used to the thought that I would do a lot of it before God revealed His plan for this adoption journey.  Then it happened.  In three days it happened.  And it was a whirlwind.  Then I spent months waiting for it to sink in that this is real.  Here at 15 months,

I feel like it's sinking in.  

I feel like that whirlwind is catching up to me.

Some days feel like they're spiraling out of control.

Some days I feel like I cannot do this.

It's too hard.

I'm too tired.

She's here, she's staying, I am Mom.

....

But after I do my crying and pick myself back up off the floor, I realize that it's gonna be okay.  

After we get through another daunting week of sickness and I see good health begin returning to my little girl's body, I remember that God is near, and I am able to see how He answered even our smallest of prayers to make our baby well again.

After I make yet another parenting mistake...

After I lose my temper...

When I wish the day away...

When I let a circumstance blind me to blessings...

If I feel frozen in my fears...

When I miss the past...

As I long for some quiet...

And when I feel like I've had just about all I can take...

This little brown-eyed-girl walks up to me, wraps her chunky little arms around my neck, and whispers through a toothy smile, "I wuv tu".  And I decide, with tear-filled eyes and a thankful heart, that I can do this again tomorrow.  Being a mom might be HARD, but it's not TOO hard. Because our God swoops in, and He fills us with just enough of whatever we need to get through the day.  We may have a couple bad days here and there, and the months may seem like they've been overshadowed by infirmity, but the Blessings are bigger.  God is Greater.  Grace is Stronger.  God, give me your eyes to see it.

At this point, I'm good with just her.  Maybe God has a different plan for later on, and He will reveal it when He is ready.  But this little stinker is it for now.  She's exactly what I need, and everything I want in a child.  She makes life exciting, to say the least.  If someone were to ask me what makes me happiest, what scares me, frustrates me, makes me laugh the hardest, and exhausts me all at the same time?  This thing right here.  My little love :)

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. 2 Corinthians 12:9

One year...of LIFE.

Selah, My love,

You are one today.  An entire year old :)  Where has our year together gone?  I still remember your limp little body resting in my arms when we brought you home from the hospital.  I can still feel your tiny little breaths on my cheek for all the hours I held you so close.  I remember the way you whimpered when you were hungry, your plump little lips searching for your bottle, then settling on shoving your little fist in your mouth.  Those days are long gone, sweet girl, and have been replaced with toddling, uneasy first steps... and words like "nom nom nom" to tell us you are hungry... The curliest little afro tops your big round head, and we spend a lot of time teaching and disciplining.  You are strong, Selah, and very strong willed.  But your soul is precious as ever, and you love like no other.  I tuck all those memories away, hiding them in my heart, and I get to pause and reflect - just as the meaning of your name commands - on all the goodness that came to this life because you were born.

As much as your Dad and I have taught you over the past year, Selah, you have taught us more.  No amount of "John-Jacob-Jingle-Heimer-Schmidt"s, or where your eyes/ears/nose/hair/mouth are, compare to the depth of meaning you've brought to our lives.  You have awakened us to life, daughter, and what it means to feel.. and be present... that it's okay to mess up and still see restoration and victory.. to make memories and recognize their weight of importance... You've led us back to God, and it's because of you that Daddy and I are more in love with Him than we've ever known... You have brought us absolute joy.

Mom and Dad are not perfect, Selah, and I speak for the both of us when I say we are thankful for your resilience.  You don't care that we've never done this before.  You don't care we parent you through trial and error...a LOT.  You just flash us your charming smile, and bounce right back.  You are amazing.  It's so much fun to love you, and teach you, and nurture you.

The most honest parts of me cannot help but admit that I was a bit afraid of whether it would ever be possible to feel like I am your Mom.  I wondered if the "adoption feeling" would ever disappear.  Man, did it ever!  And you know why?  Because true love sees beyond DNA.  And that true love is God, Selah.  His love for you, and Mommy and Daddy, is so much bigger than this whole adoption thing.  His love covers all circumstances, and makes the bigger picture clear.  It doesn't matter that you didn't grow in my belly.  And it doesn't matter that you don't look like us.  Because from the moment you were created, God had our family figured out already.  He knew how much we would love you.  And love you we do, baby girl.  We love you like you are our own, because you ARE our own.  And that will never ever ever change.

You, my baby girl, make life richer.  There is not one single thing that your Dad and I would take back, do over, or wish differently.  You make us better and fill our hearts to overflowing.  Before you, we only THOUGHT we were living.  And now with you, we can't help ourselves.

I can't believe it's been one year already.  But it has, and what a year it has been!  It's been one whole year of truly living.  And it's all thanks to God, and YOU.  It's an absolute joy and honor to be your Mom, Selah.  I love you so much.  Happy birthday!

Love,

Mama

Part 2...

Guilt.  Part one of my most recent revelation.  You can read this post if you need to catch up...

Until very recently, I was unable to see the amount of guilt I was carrying around as an adoptive parent.  I touched briefly in this post about the week we got to spend with Selah's birth mom in the hospital before the baby came.  That week meant the world to me, and I became so attached to this woman, and in a lot of ways set my hopes very high in regards to our level of openness with each other.  We made plans to stay close in touch, and work very hard to keep an open line of communication.  This was so that over the years, we could hopefully develop a trusting relationship that would allow for opportunities to have face to face visits and such in the future...and even more importantly, a trusting relationship that would allow for us to really be a part of each other's lives.

**Many times in our journey we've been asked "Why?"  Wouldn't it be easier to not have to deal with openness?  Wouldn't it be better for everyone involved to just go their separate ways?  The only way I know how to explain it is this:  We knew from the beginning that God was leading us to adoption, and specifically an open one.  We knew that God's plan was much bigger than just giving us a baby.  We felt Him calling us to something much bigger than we were able to wrap our minds around... We knew we were supposed to love Selah's birth family, and accept them as family.  We knew that the journey and the ministry didn't end with Selah... It began with her.  It began with her birth mom.  And birth father.  And her siblings.  We accepted the calling, and devoted ourselves to His plan.  And although it's not all clear right now, we recognize the passion that God has given us for adoption, and for families of all sorts walking through it... And we know it's not for everyone, but it is for us.  We've accepted the journey, and with that comes accepting all of the hard parts, too.**

Much to my surprise, over the last ten and a half months, communication between us has dwindled completely.  I've tried so many times to reach out, and every month we send an email update full of pictures and whatever words God lays on my heart... but the months have only brought silence.

Even with high hopes of how this relationship could be, I expected it to be difficult.  I figured that somewhere down the road it would require extra effort to stay in touch... Most relationships are like that, right?  In the beginning it's all new and easy, but then life happens, and things get in the way, and we get lazy and apathetic at times...and suddenly you realize that you're really going to have to be intentional about making this thing work.

What I didn't expect to feel was heartbroken.  Just down right sad.  I felt responsible.  I felt like I didn't work hard enough to really let her know how much I felt in my heart for her.  I felt like I failed at showing Jesus to her.  I felt like I hurt her, and that I was part of the reason that this whole adoption thing is so hard for her.  I felt like I was part of her sadness.  I felt like I took her baby away from her.  I felt awful.  Guilty.

And even though I recognized my feelings, I did not recognize how they were preventing my heart from attaching to the fact that I am Selah's mom.  It wasn't until we were asked by our agency to share our adoption story at an education seminar for waiting families that I realized how much the strained relationship has affected me.  We were answering some questions from some of the families when one of the counselors pointed out the sadness that came over me when I spoke about Selah's birth mom...and I completely lost it.  Through an emotional breakdown, I tried my best to explain how much of a loss I felt.  I remember feeling completely embarrassed for crying so hard and being so vulnerable in front of these families, but God just covered me with His peace and a reminder that families need to know these things about adoption...even these very real and difficult aspects of adoption.

A few days later, I got an email from our adoption counselor (who was present at the education seminar).  She picked up on the hurt I was feeling, and she sent these words to me:

"...It is very obvious the compassion and care that you have for "L", and there is that weird line of keeping that compassion, while at the same time enjoying and embracing your role as mom.  It is also good to remember that the guilt, fear, and doubts can creep back in.. BUT you can continually remind yourself of the Truth and reality that you were CHOSEN, by Selah's birth mother, to be her MOM :)  And remember that God has blessed this selection..." 

I breathed a huge sigh of relief after letting that sink in.  I was chosen.  And I am free to be Selah's mom.  But it is time for those words - "Selah's mom" - to go deeper than just a title.  My heart needed to embrace those words.  I need to continually trust God with the details of this journey.  I may not have given birth to her, but I am given the freedom to be Mom...and the freedom to even FEEL that I am her mom...I was chosen, and therefore I am.  I will always have a special place in my heart, and even in my life, for Selah's birth mom.

But there is no room for guilt.  

Chosen...

I've been trying to write for months now.  Our family has been going through some pretty tough stuff, and I needed to take another little blogging hiatus to just go through it, and let it change me.  But alas the time has come again, and I'm ready to put down in words where the past 10 and a half months have taken me.  So here we go...

I think back to when Selah came along.  How there wasn't much room in my mind, nor space in my heart to think, dream, breathe, or live anything outside of her.  Every second of the day was wrapped up in her, and I loved every bit of it because I was finally a mom.  God answered years of prayer and waiting in a matter of days.  Just when I felt like I was neck deep in an ocean of endless answer-less-ness, He turned it all around and made everything beautiful in its time (Ecclesiastes 3:11).  Suddenly this little 8 pound miracle came to be, and I couldn't imagine my life without her.

A couple of months went by, and things. got. much. harder.  Soon I found myself confused.. and to be honest, afraid with the whole concept of bonding...or what I knew, and experienced, as a lack there of.  I spent my days reading and researching ways to help with bonding between me and my daughter even though there was nothing terrible happening.  She wasn't resisting me, like I was told she possibly would.  She seemed to attach well to me, she was thriving in my care, and the transitioning was very well near perfect - proving very wrong some "worst case scenarios" we were given before leaving to go home with her.  And I looked into her eyes in awe; so engulfed with thankfulness that we had her... But for some reason, I didn't FEEL like her mom.  I loved her so much that I physically ached for her.  But my heart seemed unable to grasp the concept of how she could grow up to love me as her mother, and not just as some temporary caregiver.  I felt overwhelmed as I watched the days, weeks, and months fly by and despite my deepest desires and efforts, just couldn't feel like I thought I should.  I grieved over the time that I felt was lost and missed out on, spent "not feeling like Selah's mom".  I felt like I was failing her.  And failing God after He blessed me so abundantly.

At about the time she turned 7 months old, I remember waking up one day with a sense of urgency...All I knew was that I was ready and willing to do whatever it took, let go of whatever I had to, and eliminate any distractions that may have been causing me to miss out on my daughter and my heart's understanding that I was very much her mom.  I threw myself into what I was doing, and just kind of hoped and prayed that God would give me the unbelievable amount of peace I knew I needed to let this new life sink deep within my heart...until the confusion, tension, and whatever else was making me feel inferior as Selah's mom would no longer exist.

And I'm here to tell you that He did just that.

It didn't happen over night.  It took time...lots of time.  And patience.  Love.  And grace.  It helped me realize so much, and brought clarity to things that I didn't even recognize were there.  And after quite a few months of going through all of this, I am finally ready to sit down and write this part of our story.

What was hindering the fullness of bonding with my sweetest miracle?  I'll tell you soon.  I'm currently working on breaking this post up into several smaller posts for the sake of fluidity and easiness on the eyes and brain ;)  So just check back in the next couple of days.

But I'll leave with this:

It's hard for me to share some of these things.  It's hard to put myself out there and expose some the darkest details of my life.  But it's what comes out of that darkness that makes it liberating to share.  I'm excited to finally write about how God has continued to unfold our story.  He took the most difficult moments, when I questioned my worthiness to be momma to my baby...when I was afraid of whether my child truly loved me...when I couldn't see how it would ever feel "normal"...and He reminded me:  "I chose you.  And I chose this baby.  All for My glory.  Trust me."

Thank You, God...

for this little girl.

"I remember the days of long ago; I meditate on all Your works and consider what Your hands have done."  Psalm 143:5

I have to believe...

Why is it so hard for us to have faith for and in others, but not for ourselves? How is it that when we're asked to pray for miracles in so many situations around us, that we can pray fervently, and believe with all our might that God will come through, yet not do the same when the waves are crashing angrily in our own lives?   Why do I put God in such a tiny box when I am overwhelmed by the seemingly impossibilities? After all I've seen that He is absolutely capable of - the only One capable of - why do I put my fear and doubt in the way of His movement, and His purpose for my life's circumstances?
We are in need of a financial miracle in when it comes to our adoption. I'm kind of gonna leave it at that. What we thought was going to work out has now been removed as an option, thanks to the government.  Instead, we are taking on several thousand dollars of debt, and we will have another monthly payment to add to the stack.

Please know that I do not mean to complain here. We knew the cost involved when we pursued this road of adoption. There are absolutely no regrets.

But is it discouraging to count on two hands how many times we've been denied for adoption grants? Yes.
Does it hurt to know how some people speak out of place about how I need to get a job, and how we've made our bed and now we need to lay in it? You bet.

Is it infuriating when people make mention of a price tag that's attached to our daughter? Extremely. Because my daughter didn't cost us a thing. She was already bought and paid for by the blood of Jesus Christ. But the services attached to the completion of any adoption cost money.
Adoption is biblical. And I will always defend the cause, regardless of the cost.
**Romans 8, and Galatians 4 speak of how we are adopted into sonship by God... Acts 7 speaks of how Pharaoh's daughter takes in baby Moses and "brought him up as her own son"... James 1 teaches us about religion that God accepts as pure and faultless: to look after orphans and widows in their distress... Psalm 68 speaks of "A father to the fatherless..setting the lonely in families"... Isaiah 1 encourages to "take up the cause of the fatherless"... Esther 2 teaches of an orphan girl named "Hadassah", also known as Esther, who was "brought up" by her cousin Mordecai...**
But...the reality of it is that we have got to pay off this loan so that we can raise our daughter without any cloud of financial guilt and burden hanging overhead.  Raising a child is costly anyway, but to pay hundreds of dollars every month to have the opportunity to do just that is overwhelming.

Financially, we hoped it would be different. We prayed it would be easier. But the world doesn't always come through for us.
So now, we just have to believe God, with the same kind of belief that we have had for others... With the same kind of belief that we had when we were waiting for our daughter to arrive... We have to believe that He will come through.  He has done it so many times before. We have to entrust the whole thing to God, while being good stewards of what we have, and seek the guidance we need to take the steps that God wants for us.
Will you pray with us? God is good. Always.