Where we're at...

Today has felt heavy. I've felt God speaking to me through different means. First a song, and its lyrics pierced me, and broke me once again with gratitude. Then a phone call from the agency that delivered good and bad news all in one statement. And most recently a letter...one that we've been waiting to read for 90 days, but it didn't quite deliver the congratulatory words we've been hoping for. Nevertheless, God is good.

It began this morning with a song. The lyrics echoed through my living room, as I rocked my baby to sleep for a nap. This is rare, a moment like what Selah and I shared as she fell asleep in my arms. Usually at times when we're home and she's ready for bed, I lay her down and she drifts off into her own little land of sweet dreams. But I believe God gave me this moment this morning, with the following song filling in the background, to touch my soul with a reminder that He is here. Present. Alive. Working. Just as He was when He gave us Selah. We rocked and listened, then I laid her down in her bed, and I let the thankfulness overtake me, as I cried in awe of such an amazing Savior.




From the first break of light to last days
Every echo of time every evening fade
You've always been there

From a baby's first cry to last breath
Every fight in our minds, every victory dance
You've always been there

Ancient One, so amazing, unfailing You are
Holy One, overwhelming my heart with your love

Yahweh, Yahweh
Faithful God, You're here to stay
Yahweh, Yahweh
Forever, and always the same...

Where the sky meets the sea and breaks free
When compassion and love are met with need
You've always been there

All consuming, everlasting
God Almighty, Lord of Glory


A while later, my phone rang with a reminder from a social worker from our adoption agency. There will be a court hearing tomorrow that will result in termination of parental rights (TPR) for Selah's birth parents. Good news from this hearing is that we could be as soon as 30 days out from finalization. Finally, an end in sight. The bad news, the rip-your-heart-out realization, is that tomorrow will be their (birth parents) end to this process. Done. It weighs so heavily on my heart.

As I let these things settle in, I took a walk to the mailbox. There inside was a letter from an organization regretfully informing us that we have been denied in regards to a grant that we applied for back when our home study was completed/we brought Selah home. It's a long story, but basically, since there were literally only about 10 days in between the approval of our home study and the day we brought home our baby, we were limited on time to fill out applications for financial assistance with our adoption. Believe me when I say that we had "plans". We were banking on having "12-18" months of expected wait time before we thought we would ever be chosen as adoptive parents. We researched and found several grants that we wanted to apply for, but they wouldn't even consider looking at our applications until our home study was completed and approved. But once that time came, much to our surprise, we were quickly chosen, and right after that we had a baby in our home. Although fortunate in the blessing that we were given, it became unfortunate that several of our financial assistance options would no longer assist us since the baby's placement had already occurred. We were still hopeful though, and sent applications out to the few organizations left who said they wouldn't discount our attempts just because we already had Selah. Well, to wrap this paragraph up, they accepted our application, but denied us from any help. No explanation as to why, just a sweet letter of their regrets and apologies.

But we will not give up, and we will not lose hope. We are praying for a miracle. And we trust that God is going to make a way for this balance to be paid before our finalization date.

I've watched God take my life and turn it into what He's always wanted it to be. He has written this story in a way that I never imagined. At times I was disappointed. Left feeling hopeless, drowning in a sea of unanswered questions, and unmet expectations. But what I've come to realize, and what I've witnessed first hand, is that God works best when we allow Him to work. Things happen when we let go of our expectations, and give up our earthly desires to align our lives with Him... For me it meant giving up on a dream and welcoming His plan for my life. And then He blew my mind. No, things didn't line up the way I thought I wanted them to, but now I'm glad they didn't.

I don't know exactly where I wanted this post to go. Maybe it's a jumbled mess. But while I sit here and type in the midst of much uncertainty, I feel the weight of His love on my shoulders. And I realize that I'm the uncertain one...not God.

"God loves to take hopeless situations and gush hope into them and see it explode and make things beautiful" ~Daniel Bashta

Trust...

Birth family and adoptive family dynamics can be such a heap of confusion sometimes. It's one of the aspects of our process so far that has brought about the most questions. It's the number one thing that I worry about when I wonder about the future and how everything is going to pan out. I feel such an overwhelming amount of responsibility when it comes to how Jeremy and I are going to raise Selah to understand her story. I worry about the hurt she might feel as she navigates her way through questions, feelings, and dreams she may have about her birth family. I constantly pray that we just get it right.

Upon meeting Selah's birth mom, and even before we were ever matched with her, we decided that it was important to us to always raise our child with the knowledge of their adoption. It's important to us for our baby girl to know where she comes from, and to possibly give her the opportunity to know her birth family if it was important to them to be involved in her life. So we settled on starting out with a semi-open adoption, and we committed to keeping our hearts open and willing to develop relationships over time with whatever birth family God connected us with. We were beyond excited after talking with Selah's birth mom for the first time, after learning how it was important to her to choose an adoptive family who were willing to be open with her. Spending a week before the birth with her was an absolute blessing, and I was so thankful and relieved to be able to discuss things with her and come up with a plan as to how we would proceed to keep in touch after the baby was born. Things happened so naturally between us, and I remember leaving the hospital with our sweet baby, feeling so confident in the hopes that our relationships with her birth family would just continue to grow and flourish.

In the few weeks after the baby was born, we continued to stay in touch with each other through email and text messaging. We even met at the agency when Selah was 2 weeks old for a sweet visit. But it has tapered off tremendously since then. We continue to update the family with pictures/letters, and email, but have yet to hear a reply. And it breaks my heart like something crazy. My heart aches not for me, or Jeremy, but for birth mom...and Selah's siblings...and most of all for this sweet baby girl.

I think about this woman every single day. I want to be there for her like I was able to be in the hospital. I want to know how she's doing, how she's feeling. I look into Selah's eyes and I see her. The way Selah looks like her, it's haunting.

I have a beautiful picture that I took of birth mom holding Selah for the very first time in the hospital. It's such a special photo - one that captures both the love & adoration, and heartbreak that this sweet woman was feeling in that moment leading up to having to say goodbye. I remember the urgency I felt to immediately go and have the picture printed and framed to put on display in the nursery. I just had this vision of Selah waking up and seeing it every day, learning the woman's name that is holding her in the picture, and connecting it to her knowledge of her beautiful adoption story...

But sometimes now I wonder if that is the best decision.

I am overwhelmed with compassion for these birth parents. I do not understand how they are feeling, that kind of heartache... To make sense of things, I tell myself that it probably is just easier for them to keep their distance. I pray away anger or resentment, and ask God to continue to grace me with compassion for the entire situation. But the distance hurts, especially as we see it slip further and further away. The lack of response hurts. Not for me...but for Selah.

I try not to question how we will do this, and instead just trust that God will give us all the love, compassion, and wisdom that we will need to be there for our daughter as she figures out who she is in Christ, rather than a bloodline. We just trust that He will guide our hearts and our steps as we teach her to lean into His loving arms. We just trust that God will continue to fill us with so much love for her that she never has to question, but she will literally be able to feel it. We will trust that she will always know an abundance of family, and that she will see that DNA doesn't define who does and does not fall into this category. We trust that God will lead us to be everything that she will need in a mom and dad, and that He will comfort us as we comfort her if the answers aren't there. And we will trust that He will show us the way and give us the words we need to do what is best for her.

3 years...

I went to the store last night with full intentions of picking out a "Happy Anniversary" card for my husband. I walked out of the store and realized I forgot to do that very thing. Dang it. It's okay, though, I thought. I'm getting out again in the morning, I'll swing by and pick one out then.

This morning I woke up and looked at my husband laying next to me. He was still sleeping. Happy Anniversary, I said in my head as I rolled out of bed to go feed our sleepy-eyed, starving girl. Feed, change diaper, and back to bed we went. Just a short time later, he was tapping my arm to say good-bye as he was leaving for work. "Happy Anniversary, babe."

I got up, got myself and the baby dressed, and out the door we went with full intentions to pick out a very special card. I pull into the store's parking lot, and the sky opened up. The rain poured, and poured, and poured. No problem, though, I thought. We'll just wait it out for a few minutes. Now cue the infant's screaming. Frustrated, and now with the thunderstorm and a very cranky baby, there was NO WAY I was getting out of the car. So we left, and again...no card.

I know these are excuses, but they're very true excuses. I am also terrible at getting cards for my husband. Really, I suck at it. However, I am determined to not let this day pass on without expressing to him, and to everyone else, what this day means.

Today marks three years of marriage with this man. A very short time, in all actuality, but I'm pretty sure we he deserves a medal. These have been three of the most trying, difficult, and painful years of our lives...but what I want, and need for my husband to know is that


I wouldn't trade a single day for anything.

Marriage is not bliss. Moments of it definitely can be, don't get me wrong, but it is NOT easy. We have faced things that I never imagined would ever be a part of our lives. We are flawed, and very sinful creatures, and without our faith and belief in Jesus, I am not so sure we would've made it this far.

I wish that I could type all about how we communicate so well, we always get along, never argue, never go to bed angry (which I know we shouldn't), and every day just cannot wait to bear hug or something...but it would be a lie. However, what I can say after nearly 10 years of relationship and now 3 years of marriage, is that with letting go of the facade, and being truly honest with ourselves and with one another in the good times AND the bad - that is where true intimacy is found.

Three years ago, I made a choice. Yes I was in love, and absolutely still am with this man. But I stood there in front of God, in front of my man, and many other people, and I vowed to love, cherish, and ultimately to never give up on the love that brought us together.
No matter how many heartbreaks we would go through,
no matter how empty our bank account would get at times,
no matter how much we said hurtful things,
no matter how much weight our my body would gain,
no matter,
no matter,
no matter...we would not give up. And every single day we have to choose not to give up. We have learned that we cannot get through this life, or our marriage on a "feeling". We are two messy, very broken people who love one another very much, and we choose to stay true to those vows, and to the God who brought us together.

We have been so blessed. And I am so fortunate to be married to such a forgiving, committed man.

Jeremy,

I freaking love you. I am sorry I don't have a card for you today. But honestly, I don't believe a card exists that could accurately sum up how much you mean to me. The past few years have been rough, to say the least. But I am so proud of the man that you are...for sticking with me, and for your willingness to fight for our love. Our marriage may not ever be perfect, but I know without a doubt that I cannot, and do not ever want to live this life without you. I don't care what we've gone through, or what is still to come our way...You are it, and I will choose you every single time. Thank you for loving me, for loving our daughter, and for striving to be such an amazing man of God. I am a lucky lady. I love you so much, and cannot wait to celebrate our marriage tonight.

Happy 3rd Anniversary!

**P.S.**
We are getting closer and closer to Australia!!

A beautiful transformation...

My husband and I have been an item literally since we were kids - 14 to be exact. Here we are coming up on 10 years of life together, and as I reflect over our time, I can see distinct moments of transformation in this sweet guy I married. We have been together long enough to have witnessed each other grow up. From driver's licenses to marriage, and everything in between, nothing has brought me more joy that watching my husband transform into a daddy in a split second.

The morning of October 3rd, I popped up out of bed to get to the hospital so that I could be next to birth mom's side as she was preparing for her first operation. Just a few days prior, she honored me by asking if I would be with her during the delivery, so we made plans for me to arrive at the hospital early that morning so that we could work out our anxieties together. Meanwhile, since only I was allowed to be in the OR, Jeremy waited in the waiting room nearby. Parts of me wish sometimes that I could have sat there with him, as I'm sure he was trying to make sense of the thoughts running through his head at the time. Those parts of me wish that I could have seen him pacing the floor, pouring yet another cup of mediocre coffee, and browsing through golf equipment on eBay as he watched time drag on while waiting for the news that our daughter was born.

He was right around the corner from the hospital's newborn nursery, so before he even knew that it was in fact his daughter that he was looking at through a blurry window, nurses wheeled our freshly delivered, chunky little bundle right into his line of sight. Eager to point him in the baby's direction, I came running out of the recovery room to meet him. "LOOK!" I said, as I flipped through photos I was able to snap of her in the OR. I tried my best to stand still and slow down as I ran through all the stats of her weight, length, and time of birth, but the adrenaline got the best of me. So he grabbed my hand instead, and led me to the nursery window where we stood for what seemed like forever, and watched our little girl demand nurses attention. I remember looking at him as he watched his daughter, smiling from ear to ear, and tears glazing his eyes, and I watched my husband transform into a father. Nothing could break his gaze, nor the bond that he felt toward his sweet baby...and he hadn't even gotten to touch her yet. We stood there in front of a window, and we became parents - not in the most conventional way, but in just the way God had always intended it to be.

Hours passed before nurses allowed for us to enter the nursery to be with our girl. They needed some time to monitor her and stabilize her blood sugar (gestational diabetes) before they let us in. We passed the time as we ate, called friends and family, and walked the mall to find her something special to wear for when we would bring her home. Soon the time came, though, and we shook nervously as we approached the bassinet where our baby lay. There in the dark, in a space all to ourselves, we rocked little Selah and got to feed her for the first time. And my heart swelled as I witnessed a new dad love on his baby. We marveled at how beautiful she was, and how distinct and perfect her little features were. A week ago we didn't even know she existed. And now our hearts were ruined with an indescribable love for this tiny being. We rocked, and we loved until we had to say goodnight. It was time for us to go, but we whispered in her ear of promises to return...to always return.

For two months now, I have watched this daddy-daughter bond grow. She loves his voice, and turns her head toward it at the first sound. Her eyes look at him in a way that is different from how she looks at everyone else. It is evident of how she loves him, her daddy. He has the most gentle way with this sweet girl, and it makes me proud to picture the sweet disposition he is helping to develop within her. He reads her books and she listens. She smiles at his silliness. He speaks and she is soothed. I couldn't ask for more.

I have always loved my life with this man. He is more than I could ever imagine. But this... This is different. This is my favorite time. I am blessed to watch him grow in love with her, as he cares for her, and as he is stretched to new places. She has brought a sparkle to his eyes and awakened him to life again. He is a dad to the most beautiful little girl. And I am in love with him.

A Selah Moment...

From September 12th: "...Our story here is nowhere near over, and for the time being, I just need to step away. I've tried time and time again to sit down and blog...but nothing comes out. I feel like there's meaning behind it - meaning behind the life silence, and the blog silence. And instead of trying to fill the silence sometimes with a random post, I just need to shut down the computer for a while and let God fill the empty places.

So I'll be back...And hopefully with more to add to our little story here."

I guess from my last post (found here), you could say that I was in need of some time to just step away.  I felt an urge in my spirit to shut off the computer, put away the infertility related self-help material, and let go of the pain & confusion of why we weren't able to have a baby, and instead seek joy and peace in the midst of my darkest days.  I needed a "Selah moment" of sorts - as it meant to me, one that consisted of overwhelming peace while uncertainty surrounded me; a moment to prayerfully pause and reflect on this bittersweet journey that God is walking me through.  I just had no idea why.

To recap a bit, my husband and I walked hand in hand into an adoption agency on January 9th of this year.  We were scared in a way that is indescribable.  We were plagued by questions of how we were supposed to pay for an adoption, how long and grueling this process was going to be, if we would ever be chosen or judged "fit" to be given a child, and if this was really what God had planned for our future as parents and the expansion of our family.  However, we couldn't contain the passion in our hearts to pursue this road, and we just knew (despite the games that our minds and emotions played with us) that God was leading us to this place.  We were meant to adopt.

Without dragging it on any longer, I'll just go ahead and tell you that the confirmation that we would ever need about this decision was given to us on September 29th when we heard the most beautiful words:

"You are it.  I choose you.  I knew it from the moment I saw your picture."

These words came late on a Thursday night, through the speaker on our cell phone, while we sat in the parking lot of a Starbucks talking to the birth mother of our daughter.  Just 4 short days later, our baby was born.

To sit here and try and tell you how good God is does no justice as to how good He really is.  I reflect back on our 10 month journey through adoption, and I am overwhelmed by how present and active the Lord was in every little detail:

- At about the same time that we walked into that agency for the very first time, a special woman somewhere out there was about to find out she was pregnant with the child she would later bless us with.
- The money that we needed to begin our home study was given to us at exactly the time that we needed it.  Any sooner, and our profile could have gotten buried underneath newer ones.  Any later, and our home study would not have been completed at the time when birth mom made her decision.
- In every moment when we thought nothing was happening, our daughter was already growing and developing in the womb.
- I read back over my posts since we began this process, and I can see how God was preparing me, preparing our home, our marriage, and preparing our hearts for this child.

There is so much more - more than I can ever wrap my head around, but it is all evidence of a very real God.

He blessed us even in the moments when we doubted Him.  

He answered our prayers even though we didn't know what to pray for.  

He loved us even though we were angry at Him for not working in our time frames.  

He continued to lead us, and speak to us, even though we went our own ways and did our own things at times.  

He went above and beyond what I could ever imagine, and for the first time in my life, I don't just believe in Him... I believe Him.

We were so blessed to get to know this wonderful woman.  She spent a week in the hospital due to a lack of prenatal care and gestational diabetes, and in that week we were able to spend a lot of time together.  Every day we would go and visit, and I will always remember those days as some the most life changing I've ever had.  I have never seen so much courage and strength as it took for her to do what she did for us.  As we sat in that hospital room and listened to the sweetest heartbeat, she rejoiced with us even though her heart was breaking.  When it probably would have been easier to shut us out, she opened her heart to us, even asking me to be by her side as doctors delivered our baby girl via c-section.  She is the epitome of selflessness, and she is proof of God's redemptive power, of how he turns ashes into beauty.  Her circumstances may not be ideal, and she may not have always made the right choices, but she loves this precious baby enough to give her life...and that is something to be admired.  Her story changed me, broke me, as we watched her say good-bye to her baby, and she left in a cab with tears streaming down her face - all alone, and thrown back out there to try and navigate this crazy world.  She is worthy of love & life, and worthy of all things good.  And every day I pray that she knows that.

And now here we are.  Our miracle baby naps in her bed, in her forever home, as I sit here and type.  She is more than we ever dreamed of, perfect in every way, and thankfulness engulfs me when I think of how God brought us together.  I look back on all the painful times, when my heart ached and my body felt broken, and I am glad that God didn't give me clear answers of how everything would turn out.  He just simply promised that He would reveal His glory through our story.  He promised that He meant our story for good, and not to hurt us.  He promised that He would never leave us, and that He knew His plans for us...to give us a hope and a future.  If He had written it all out word for word, or if He had done everything that I was demanding, I can say with all honesty that I would not see it for the miracle that it is.  I would not believe His word, or His power.

But He allowed me to feel that pain..He asked me to wait on Him, to trust, and to believe without seeing.. He stripped away the layers, and broke down a lot of walls.  Then He rebuilt.  He restored.  He filled in the holes, and healed and mended.  And I believe Him.  He is good.

Nearly two whole months have passed since the birth of our daughter, and I have been more stretched and challenged than ever.  Being a mom is not for the faint of heart.  It is hard, but it is the most beautiful time of my life.  I never thought I could love this much.  We are still waiting for a finalization date, so I am not allowed to share pictures yet, but she is beautiful.  As the days go on, I plan to share more of our life over the past two months.   This blog, much like my life, has a whole new chapter added to it now.  I am so excited to share all about the ups and downs of parenthood, pictures, and stories from our whirlwind week that included meeting birth mom, Selah's delivery, Jeremy meeting her for the first time, and more of where we are at in this process.  But right now, I can see the red lights peaking on the baby monitor, so this is my cue...

Her name is Selah.  And she is a miracle.

Taking a break...

This post is probably not even necessary due to my lack of writing lately, anyway. But, to just put it out there and make it officially official, you read it right. I don't have any amount of time in mind, for how short or how long, but my heart is telling me as long as it takes.

I feel like we've been wandering and searching aimlessly for answers. Answers to what, exactly? I don't know. We watch the world around us fast forward through celebrations left and right, and we muster up as much as we have in us right now to rejoice. And our world is still pretty silent. And while I don't intend, in the slightest bit, for this to become some sort of pity party, the fact still remains that we hurt.

Our story here is nowhere near over, and for the time being, I just need to step away. I've tried time and time again to sit down and blog...but nothing comes out. I feel like there's meaning behind it - meaning behind the life silence, and the blog silence. And instead of trying to fill the silence sometimes with a random post, I just need to shut down the computer for a while and let God fill the empty places.

So I'll be back...And hopefully with more to add to our little story here.

18,223....

It's just a number, I keep repeating to myself. It's just a number. A very large number. I look at it and I feel

overwhelmed

breathless

cheated

anxious

defeated

Is this really the only thing standing between us and our future child(ren)? I say the only thing, but really there are other things, too. This, though..this number seems the most daunting.

$18,223.00

I'm battling against doubt. I'm battling those thoughts that try to creep in that tell me it's impossible. I'm battling those thoughts that try to convince me that we will have to take out yet another loan. I'm battling those torturous feelings that try to remind me yet again that our bodies don't work; those feelings that attempt to rob us of our excitement of adopting.

And even though
My brain is exhausted from brainstorming to come up with fundraiser ideas..
My heart feels heavy from waiting..
And my spirit feels weak from fighting...

God gently and lovingly reminds me that this number is IN FACT the only thing standing between us and our baby.

And although it might be too big for me, it will never be too big for Him.