28 days!

well friends, our dreams have been realized ~ we are so thankful to God for what only he could accomplish. i am still processing the joy/amazement/relief that we are parents, that we are living in our new home as a family, that everything that has happened in the last 4, 8, 12 weeks has actually really happened.  driving earlier with our son in the carseat we bought almost a year ago in anticipation of adoption, pulling into the driveway to the home we had never even seen before 3 months ago, into a neighborhood that was a "someday..." dream. my days lately (minus the sleep deprivation) are pretty blissful. i am so very grateful. our life today seems like jumping midway into a book into the scene i always wanted to be a part of. some say we "deserve it" after waiting so long... i am just still in awe. and all that waiting and all we experienced to get to this place seems a bit blurry. i'd like to take time to write about and share more of the journey (time is limited lately), but, i thought it was about time tonight to share the wonderful news - we have a son!  Spencer ("giver of goods") Samuel ("the Lord has heard") is 28 days old today. 28 days ago was one of the most sacred days, to begin such an amazing new life.  more story to come...

just the two of us (and Brodie, of course)...

i'm guessing the last three weeks would have played out QUITE differently if we had little ones (present) to consider. most certainly, our hope for said "little ones" influenced how the last week went. Here's a timeline that i figure i'll look back at someday and remember - WOW. that went by so smoothly. incredible. thanks, God - our provider, our helper.

Sunday July 24 - lunch and starbucks with friends after church, followed by a drive in my favorite ("someday...") neighborhood; see lovely tudor home, pick up flyer, tell my husband i would love to see inside (hint, hint...) and the price has just been reduced. hmmmm....

Wednesday July 27 (after conversations throughout the week reminding ourselves that we'd never be able to afford selling our house and buying a new one, etc... but.... maybe we could rent out our home.... and promising we'd only do that if we found the perfect renters...) we schedule a walk through with the listing agent.

Thursday July 28 - we see inside. i fall in love even more.

Saturday July 30 - i put an ad on craigslist to look for renters, get two really serious inquiries, schedule a showing for the following day with one of the couples.

Sunday July 31 - walk through our house with prospective renters. They need the house by August 4th and are visibly in love with our little home. We explain that we are not prepared to be out in 4 days, but possibly with another week, we could make it happen. But we have to first speak with our lenders. We will let them know the following day if it's possible, but we encourage them to keep looking. (and i'm crossing my fingers that it will work because they seem so great).

Sunday July 31 - i talk to the other prospective rental couple who live in another state and don't need the house until November, which seems a bit more feasable, but they seem a bit pushy. this stresses me out. we tell the inlaws we looked at a house and are considering making an offer. they are skeptical but we all go to see it again together, and our agent (so generous with her time) meets us to let us walk through and dream some more...

Sunday July 31 - i call our lender on her cell phone, tell her the situation, figure out what paperwork i need to collect, and schedule a meeting for the next morning to get the process going for our new mortgage.


Monday August 1 - meeting at the bank, waiting for information, texting prospective renters who really want to know if they can rent our house and feeling bad for keeping them waiting... and finally, getting approved for our mortage. we make a verbal offer on the "new house", and get a verbal acceptance within the hour. we decide we better start packing.

Tuesday August 2 - the offer/acceptance on the "new house" is put in writing and we are officially moving.

we pack for the next few days...

Friday August 5 - the POD arrives at our house and we start to fill it. how do two people have so much stuff? thankfully some wonderful friends help us with boxes, meals, lugging things, finding places for things... including their house.

Saturday August 6 - Sunday August 7 - i go out of town for a friend's wedding. wonderful! but Jeremy opts to stay home and start working on packing up his garage.

Monday August 8 - spend the morning at the new house with the inspector. find out a about a few issues but nothing too major. we feel pretty good about it; we drop off all our documents (additional) to our lender and get back home to pack until the wee hours of the morning with some great friend support. so blessed.

Tuesday August 9 AM - the POD leaves. all 4000lbs of our stuff. and we still need a uhaul. seriously? how do we have so much stuff?!

Wednesday August 10 - fill a U-haul, clean the house to "spotless", meet with the renters to walk through and answer any questions. turn over the keys.  (after they leave, we still have a few things to move out but we're pretty close to "out".  we finish little projects and packing at 2am and head to the inlaws to get some rest. 

Thursday August 11 - Our tenants move in to our "old house".  we now live with my husband's parents until we close on the house... but we're encouraged that that could happen faster than our Sept. 1st projected date.  we're happy to put our feet up for a few days!

Today is Saturday. We're settled into our temporary housing. I have some peace and quiet with Brodie sleeping at my feet (this moving thing has taken a toll on him... if only dogs could talk?!?)  and my husband mowing his parents' lawn out back. we couldn't have a cozier place to call home for a few weeks and we are looking ahead with anticipation for the new home we will make next.

this whole process could not have been more pleasant. it has happened so easily, so smoothly. i'm so grateful for the way my husband and i have been able to work together to make it happen. i am so happy about how our marriage has grown. it gives me so much hope about the home, the sense of family, that we will be able to share with children. like i've said before, we're "just getting started", and it's great!

good odds?

i've been following a few newly-found blogs related to infertility lately. it's kind of nice to read some shared perspective. so often i think "ya, i could have written that same thing"...  or i did, or, i chose not to. it's interesting to read comments by other followers and note their transparency as they navigate this shared experience. 

this last post at "Hannah wept, Sarah laughed" did inspire just a wee bit of curious optimism, as she states the stats on the expected increase of births in the next few months. while her post is more a "threat" than a "promise", with tips on coping with the upcoming explosion of facebook birth announcements,  i'm hoping it may mean that our baby is coming...

http://hannahweptsarahlaughed.blogspot.com/2011/07/are-you-ready-for-baby-season.html

a few words of hope.

last night i had a chance to watch sunday's ABC News special, Diane Sawyer's interview with Jaycee Dugard. wow. talk about courage to hope, and resilience to live out her life and look forward. inspiring. http://youtu.be/K7dMVm9YEEw has a small clip of the story.

clearly, Jaycee's had some excellent counseling. she seems to cling to words of truth that can keep her focussed on the good. one of these quotes was from the work of T.S. Eliot ~ i have yet to find it's specific origin ~ but it talks about carrying hope and waiting, holding on to hope wherever the journey takes you. a timely encouraging word for me.  and a nudge to read some T.S. Eliot and see what else he's got to say.

then, this morning, i flip my calendar filled with "God's Promises" to July 12 and these words offer again, some encouragement (truly, a reminding nudge: "have courage, Carla!")

God will make you fit for what he's called you to be... he'll fill your good ideas and acts of faith with his own energy so that it all amounts to something.  If your life honors the name of Jesus, he will honor you.  Grace is behind and through all of this, our God giving himself freely, the Master, Jesus Christ, giving himself freely.   ~ 2 Thessalonians 1:11-12

joy and heartache.

my husband's side of the family welcomed a new baby girl this week, a long awaited daughter for his sister, a much-desired 5th grandchild for his parents, and a beautiful, sweet, cuddly niece for us. we travelled down south to meet her and celebrate with the family. so precious to see the excitement, pride, and curiousity of our nephews who are big brothers to this precious little girl. wonderful to hold this little bundle of brand newness, watching her little movements and smiles. we were so glad to meet her.

it was also hard. (and i hate that.)  my heart is aching... and for different reasons than i had thought through or anticipated. i think i've developed a bit of a tough shell around me, over the last year or so, and it feels better, usually, to just stay protected by it. but i really didn't want to have a shell on, when we met this little one. and when i talked with her big brothers about this new wonderful addition to their life. i wanted to be softer. not self-protecting. and i know i shouldn't need to be, around these family members. they are more than aware and sensitive to us. but taking off the shell is harder than you'd think. it's painful, really. and when you do, you're exposed to all kinds of factors you might not have anticipated. all the stuff you can just "ignore" when the shell is on hits you in the gutt when you want to be softer. while i tried to keep the shell unzipped and let the experience in, i had moments of putting it back on again. moments where the questions, comments, situations just got a bit too close to my broken heart. that or fall apart. and we were there to celebrate.

it's hard to put into words the thoughts and emotions i have experienced in the last couple of days. and i might not be ready to publicize them all.  it's the emotions themselves, my reactions to them and the thoughts that filter through my mind, the work of processing them all, trying to both own them (admit and experience them) and just as soon release them to the One who can actually handle them... versus let them all out, or attempt to bury or deny them. i don't do any of that all that well, and it's exhausting. by grace, i've been working at the releasing part, but to be honest, that might be one of the most heart wrenching and painful steps. i guess there is this yet-diluted subconscious thought somewhere in me that if i hold these things inside, they won't affect how our life actually plays out - or maybe that they will, and somehow i have an incling of control in the matter. i know i don't. and dying to that desire feels crushing. it doesn't feel like relief. at least not yet.

listening to pandora on the long drive home today (my "bebo" station, for those of you who know my heart well) i was reminded of several messages of truth. i experienced moments of both holding on and letting go, fear, grief, nausea, and just emptyness. sometimes i just feel so utterly lost. how and why and no. those are the perhaps rebellious fights that i want to hold some ground on. and i'm pretty sure they're pointless. and then i just want to sob my eyes out. because none of this matches in any way the dreams i had as a little girl for the life i wanted to live. but then i'm reminded of moments that tell me, 'actually, maybe it does, if you look at things just a little different' - that requires looking through the "God-lense" instead of just the "what i want" lense. and different verses fill my mind (and i will continue to ponder these and write about them in time) that, in a kind-feeling way that never-the-less worries me, nudge my heart about that idea that God's ways are greater than our ways... so while i keep saying "how long O Lord??" i am reminded that "those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength..." and therein lies the call to faith tonight. and i'm pretty sure it's He who's holding on to me not the other way around.

apples of gold

nine years ago, i lived in Kansas for a year working as a resident director (aka "dorm mom") for an all women's athletic dorm at Sterling College. truth be told, i was less than a year older than a bunch of the girls living there that year. the dorm housed freshment through seniors. a diverse bunch of young women. my role, beyond keeping some order and advising the resident assistants, was to connect with, encourage, and develop educational and social experiences to challenge and nurture these women. it was quite a year. i certainly was challenged.

one of the outlets that year that i sought out was an intergenerational group of women who could encourage, challenge, and nurture ME.  there was this book we started reading together called "apples of gold", based on the verse from Proverbs 25:11:  "A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver." the book encouraged intergenerational mentoring for women; listening to each others' stories, learning from each other, engaging in each others' lives, friendship centered around the love of God.

i think i tend to gravitate to women with more experience and wisdom... i am encouraged and perhaps feel some sort of safety hearing words and advice from someone who has long walked the steps i find myself walking. and i am so grateful when someone takes the time to share those "apples of gold". 

there are a few special women in my acquaintance that have taken that role. i probably don't benefit from their company as much as they are willing, but i don't count it a coincidence that our paths have crossed.

as promised, "...my God shall supply all your need, according to his riches in glory in Jesus Christ" Philippians 4:19

putting on and putting off taking off the baby fat.

i've been mulling over this post for a while. hoping that putting it in print will be some sort of kick in the butt to start doing something about it...

a few seemingly connected thoughts, or admissions. first, i have more than a little jealously of any woman who has kids and a little extra weight that doesn't rapidly disappear after babies. it's like a right of passage that i don't ever get to take advantage of.  i'm readily willing to extend encouraging and gracious words to any of these women - even if their kids are adults. whatever. you carried 3 children (or some variation of that).  second, there is not much sympathy from health professionals for weight gain related to infertility. a few might let it slide - "the stress of it all" - but generally, the encouragements include "daily exercise", and "eat a better diet". there's no projected "gain" expectations. empty womb? keep the pounds off.  third, i've found that mild depression (seasonal, situational, or otherwise) is actually nicely treatable with a box of cheezits or a hershey bar, but "fat and happy" only lasts so long... until the season changes and you don't fit into your "spring clothes" from last year. crap. how did that happen?

so. i'm feeling like i'm "back at square one" again with the whole healthy body situation. i've been here before. it's been some time though, and who knows where my motivation, discipline, and energy came from back then. but i need to find it back. buying new pants is not an option. so where do i start?

i read ("last time") some article about choosing just a few changes to your lifestyle (in effort to lose the pounds) was the most effective way to stick with a new program. i've chosen three. 1. no more diet coke (drink water instead) or soda (exception is a sip of jeremy's coke when i really just want a taste), 2. smaller portions (exception is low sugar fruits or veggies), 3. daily exercise. (i desperately want to write in an exception here, just for the control of it, but seriously. i need to get my butt in gear.)

i know i'm draggin' a bit, friends.
the unending waiting is wearing on me lately.
my body hurts. i'm tired. feeling like "blah" a lot.
i have felt better.
hopefully that will happen again.

birthdays past and the year ahead.

going, going, going... i've been on a hiatus from writing about or thinking about things too much lately. but, in these wee hours of the fourth of june, i'm going to carry out my tradition of birthday journaling. a whole 'nother year has passed. wow.

32 years old. 6 years older than what i always thought would be the "ideal age" to have a baby. that was when 26 seemed old. here i am 32 and not feeling any older than 26, so hey. hopefully that's a good sign.
and typically people don't believe that i'm 32. even better. and since i'm not expected to carry babies, the age of my ovaries has no bearing on acceptable timing. my biological clock doesn't tick. it's digital i guess. time is passing but my only real reminder is when i focus on it. life is being lived. though i'm scared sometimes this is at the expense of time spent working harder to make our dream a reality (though not sure what else we could be doing short of kidnapping or attempting a deal on the black market)... we know our future is not simply in our own hands.

looking back at the last several birthdays, i am struck this year by the irony of my birthday 4 years ago, when i woke up puking and was SCARED that i might be pregnant. first of all, even then it was soul-shaking that i was feeling scared when i thought all i had ever wanted was to BE pregnant. i remember sitting on our then slip-covered old ratty loveseat with jeremy beside me and having what could probably be classified as a panic attack. i was shaking and crying, thinking about having a being growing inside of me. this was a moment of sheer "WHO THE HECK AM I???"  i did not see that emotion coming. when a negative pregnancy test (the first of many many many) calmed me down, my emotions quickly transformed from fear to disappointment. go figure. two of the emotional postures that haunt me the most often. contradictory and both paralyzing at times.

the following birthday, we learned about Klienfelter's Syndrome. 
no sperm, no babies.

the next, we were awaiting the decision of a young girl who was considering an adoption plan for her soon-to-arrive baby girl.  I thought "that will be the best birthday gift I could ask for".  But, though it would have been a belated-gift (baby was due in July), birthmom decided against the adoption in the end.

birthday 2010: hoped for a miracle baby to be conceived as we started cycles of artificial insemination. no dice.

now, we're in month 13 after completing our adoption home study, waiting for baby. this last year has been one of learning how to wait well - not stuck but hopeful, purposeful, thankful... and this waiting isn't about "patience", as much as blessed assurance - that i am not my own - my life is not my own - but i belong wholly to my faithful Savior - and to his good purposes for my life. humbling, uplifting, wonder-inspiring. could his plans be better than my own?

praying for more of the good
~ whatever is true, lovely, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy ~
for the year to come.

how to be one

i've been thinking lately about prayer. i consider my "prayer life" a continuous one - perhaps not very disciplined in the traditional sense i have once experienced, but an easy and relatively comfortable one. even writing this, i think, maybe i need to do some studying about what prayer ought to be,... figuring i probably don't have it right. i have experienced how prayer changes me, changes my thinking, changes my spirit, my will... it's a place of surrender, of safety, of communion... being one with God.

for lent, i had willed to "give up infertility" - i talked to God about this... and He gave me new direction, new focus, new thoughts... i was able to surrender. He enabled that. somehow over the last couple of months, i feel that my perspective has changed. i still don't seem to have any answers, but i'm more content, more ok with the "now". more at peace.

but fear creaps in. i think at the root of this is the humanness in me that so wants to anticipate and know what will happen and why and have everything all figured out. for example, IF we're never going to have kids what will our life look like and what new purpose will we have and...       i just want to know.  but i'm slowly letting that rest, too, i think.  i talk to God about it.  i choose to trust and "let the story unfold"... i have to admit, sometimes i fear that if i keep talking to Him about it, he's going to keep easing me into the reality that kids are not in our future. and i get scared and try not to get angry and try to surrender. but i still ask "but what about "the desires of my heart"", and i hear this still small voice that says "i'm taking care of it", and even though i don't exactly know what that means (are you taking care of my desires aka changing them, or are you taking care of making my wishes come true), i TRY to listen, and rest, and "be one"... fumbling and stumbling, but submitting - God is God and i am not. i will trust. so i pray for open eyes and ears and an open spirit that tunes in to Him, that wants to be one with Him...

so thankful for the scriptures that surface in these moments - the words of promise for my heart... knowing that God words for the good of those who love him... that he will keep them in perfect peace whose mind is steadfast on Him... so that's where i long to be today.

tears and hope

a friend sent me this link in an email today. she has walked where we have, the journey of infertility, and is "on the other side" now, with a sweet baby boy to cuddle and admire. if you take the time to open this link, and watch it all the way through, you might relate or catch a glimpse of some of the emotions and attempts to express them, as one might walk this path...

as with most things, i resist being put in a box, or having my feelings in one... and projects like this one make me want to reiterate my belief that we all walk this journey uniquely. BUT. i will also admit i "finished the sentences" several times as i watched. and i'm reminded i'm one of the one in six.

http://www.tearsandhope.com/

father goose

my husband is a wonderful man. he works hard. he cares about people. he is loyal. he looks out for others. he is patient. he takes care of things. he takes care of me. he "watches over" and "keeps" me, our home, our expenses and goals, our dreams. he reminds me of a father goose...

weeks ago i stopped by the post office near our home to mail a package to my sister. on my way in, i noticed a goose waddling by the door. he seemed out of place, so close to "the public", but i disregarded him and kept walking in. only when others kept mentioning his presence too, did i look around and see that his partner was nesting in the flower box, yards from the post office entrance. this father goose was on guard, hissing at anyone who got too close, protecting his partner and their eggs. on my way out, i snapped some pictures, and mother goose even stood up to show off her five or six large eggs. so exciting!
last week, on my walk with our dog, i decided to pass the post office again to see if the eggs had hatched yet and if the couple were still around. I stayed far back, because I didn't want to alarm them (or our dog who is quite "fond" of geese), but from the sidewalk I could see that father goose was still on patrol, and mother goose's lovely black and white neck was sticking up from the flower planter. weeks later (who knows how long that must seem in "geese time"), still waiting, sitting faithfully, with her partner still protecting... waiting for their next chapter to begin with their young. i got a little choked up, seeing this. it was lovely.

when i pause to take notice, i find that i am similarly cared for, with a partner who stands by me, waiting patiently, and faithfully tending to my needs. basic and complex. what a wonderful design, to walk through the challenges of life with a loyal friend.

expectant.

holding on to hope today, and the sense of expectancy has been very stirring over the last week or so. maybe in part it's just spring fever. we've had tastes of warm weather, hyacinths and daffodils are in bloom, tulips are making a valient effort to open up, and birds are nesting... so why not? it's in the air, i suppose.

a couple weeks ago, we bought a crib. got a great deal on it. basically, the nursery is fully furnished now. things we do, even though we say we never will. "i don't want to see an empty nursery every day...", i remember saying to somebody when we started the adoption process... and while the door stays mostly shut, i every once and a while feel the urge to sit in there for a few minutes, wonder, smile, and wonder some more. i remember reading love stories about pioneers traveling across the prairies, when i was a pre-teen. the girls all had "hope chests". they would knit little baby blankets and save dresses, and whatever else. it was tradition. of course they'd have babies one day. it was what you did. it was the next stage of life. i guess i am just one of those girls. we've gradually built up our supplies, and readied our home to welcome the next generation to our little home... we keep working away, trusting that at the right time, that next chapter will begin. the anticipation of flipping pages in those stories (where a birth was inevitable and ultimately my favorite part of the story) is similar to my feelings now. wishing i could turn ahead, but learning to relish the whole story, not try to read ahead, but take in all the text, and let the story unfold.

this Easter weekend, while i paint our "family room", walk my dog in the warm spring sunshine, and celebrate with friends and little ones the excitement and wonder of "up from the grave He arose" i celebrate that there is so much too wonderful for us to understand fully, and embrace the joy of God's all-knowing love for us.

appointed

appointed
–adjective

1. by, through, or as a result of an appointment (often in contrast with elected ): an appointed official.
2. predetermined; arranged; set: They met at the appointed time in the appointed place.
3. provided with what is necessary; equipped; furnished: a beautifully appointed office.
 
 
it's a cold rainy spring afternoon. a wednesday. plump in the middle of another week. i'm cold and my body hurts and i am glad to by home at 2 in the afternoon and away from people. but i feel like writing. maybe it will help me understand "where i am" right now. i don't feel like i'm waiting, i don't feel like i'm down, i just am. i have been feeling content. not on the verge of something, or finished with something, but in the midst... i guess. i have enough work to do, but not so much that i can't be flexible with it, and not so much that i feel stressed by it. i am getting enough rest. i eat well, and probably a bit too much. i have time to bake and cook, and keep my house tidy.  i exercise. i have time to read. i have time to pray. i have time to think about things. i have time to listen. and just recently i've had time to start writing down my questions again. what i want to understand better. these are mostly specific to my work. but good. directive.

these last several weeks took us on another rollercoaster of hopefulness resulting in grief, again. and not just us, but all the people who care so much. i think "they" really carried us through it and carried the burdens of expectant anxiety, impatience, frustration and sadness on our behalf. we nearly made it through unscathed. and here we are, in such a different reality from a few short weeks ago and you hardly remember what that was all like. but you know that "what could have been" isn't. and you wonder if it ever will be. you go through each stage of grief, denial (maybe they'll still change their mind), anger (towards the agency for setting up such a ridiculous situation that would ultimately end in disappointment for several people), bargaining (looking at other potential quick fixes to change our situation), sadness/depression (quiet tears, time away from "life" nestled in at home, together) and acceptance. this didn't kill us. we are together, feeling uniquely, but supporting each other and walking forward...

we're just in the midst, though. we know things are not in our hands. we are trying to be cautious about making any changes to our current plan, without a clear sense of direction. so we just keep living. and in that, i'm reminded of this idea of being transformed (2 Corinthians 3:18)...  sometimes when i get particularly "heady" and lost in my thoughts i start questioning what our lives are really for. the typical milestones seem to give such structure to the lives of others. and yet they don't all happen for all of us. and it's tempting to allow that reality to try to rob meaning. by the same token, it's sometimes hard to cling to the idea that God is writing a story with your life, with it's unique twists and turns. we learn that it's for his glory. his glory revealed in our story. so all the hopes and dreams for our lives must be held onto loosely? or are we to push for them, when obstacles get in the way? or "be still", "wait"...

i suppose waiting would be easier if you knew you were waiting for something... so i cling to that verse in Isaiah that says: "those who hope in the Lord, will not be disappointed" (49:23).  not sure what is coming, but hoping.  and trusting we are "appointed" for some good thing.

can i give up infertility for lent?

years ago, when my now-almost-teenaged nieces were much younger the topic of "giving up things" for lent came up. i suppose they had been encouraged to "give up" something, as a way of focusing more on Jesus and what he "gave up" for us. their ideas give me a chuckle year after year when "lent" comes around. if i remember correctly, ideas such as giving up "lying", "bedtime", and "barbies" were discussed. haha... "i'm going to give up lying!" good idea.  well, not that i have a lot of control over it, but if i did, i'd like to give up infertility this year, please.

in a way, though, i am going to "give it up" for the next 40. it's not going to be my focus. my empty womb/arms/nursery will not be given the same attention/focus during this time. i will realign (with God's help) my desires and pray for open eyes and ears to see and hear and experience the goodness God has for me. and i trust that this can be more lasting than the 40 days. but i'm reminded today of the intentionality of starting somewhere.  I heard on Christian radio today this message: You wouldn't want God so much if He didn't want you so much first. He is capable of wooing us to Him and realigning our desires to look more like His. He does it because of LOVE. and He works for the GOOD of those who love Him. i'm choosing to trust that.

waiting.

came across these words today, from "When the Heart Waits" by Sue Monk Kidd:

I had tended to view waiting as mere passivity. When I looked it up in my dictionary however, I found that the words passive and passion come from the same Latin root, pati, which means "to endure." Waiting is thus both passive and passionate. It's a vibrant, contemplative work. It means descending into self, into God, into the deeper labyrinths of prayer. It involves listening to disinherited voices within, facing the wounded holes in the soul, the denied and undiscovered, the places one lives falsely. It means struggling with the vision of who we really are in God and molding the courage to live that vision.


while a part of me wants to put up a fight ~ "haven't we waited long enough??", there is also something profound about this time. it feels very familiar, like the "two week waits" of this summer, so filled with hope and wonder, fingers crossed. and yet it feels different. we're waiting for a much more immediate reality. we've never been so close before. it's mind boggling. i can not put into words the dichotomy of feelings, of hope and dread for the phone call we await. if i think about it too much i feel a bit sick. or maybe that's the extra cup of coffee i drank on an empty stomach. and even in the midst of these unexplainable feelings, Sue's words resonate so well. waiting is not wasting. the wait time is preparatory. it is a gift. it provides us time to enter into the places that would otherwise be avoided or neglected.

 My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken. Psalm 62: 1,2

not knowing is such a hard thing for me. i do recognize the beauty in it, and I have decided to try to embrace it this week, not spend all my time preparing for one decision or the other. i look forward to the potential of having to "sort it out" when the decision comes. (or dread. depending on the outcome.) but my flesh has always struggled with the desire to "figure it all out". only then would i feel in control. prepared. able to understand. able to explain.

i have learned (am learning) that not everything is explainable. not on this side of heaven. as much as i like to think of myself as a "big picture" thinker, still, i only see things through veiled eyes. i am just barely starting to appreciate that fact, vs. be frustrated by it. i'm starting to find peace in it. trusting that the One who sees the whole picture is at work, and is good.

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him.  He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.  My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge.  Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. "Selah". Psalm 62: 5-8

selah. pause. don't rush it.
take the time.

even as we are awaiting this current "life altering moment"... and as the same moment, the same decision alters not only OUR lives, but the lives of four other families, FOUR, and their respective extended families and communities. even in these most breath-holding, unnerving, and holy moments... what we see, feel, experience is not all that is going on. this is a piece of it. we are a piece of this extravagant story. so humbling. especially when confronted with our own desires, wishes, dreams. "can it just be our turn??" i am compelled to just be quiet.

be quiet and wait.

i don't deny that there are thoughts that can spin out of control, fears that want to cripple me. we've been here before, and it's practical to be aware that this could turn out as it has in the past. but there i go wanting to figure it all out again. preemptively deal with whatever. so, i ask for grace, to quiet those thoughts. to be still.  to quiet my own thoughts, and listen to truth. the truth that is deep inside me.

One thing God has spoken, two things have I heard: that you, O God, are strong, and that you, O Lord, are loving. (vs. 11-12)

stronger than I.
full of love for us.

i will wait.

thoughts

i had this puzzled thought for a moment... if we do get chosen, what do i do with this blog? well, the infertility is still there. motherhood in a different form. i have so many thoughts about how this might be. so many beautiful ideas about the relationship we can have with the birthparents of this little girl. the desire to try to stomp out the adoption stigmas and just say "why can't we" have a good and open relationship. her story starts with them. that is real and true and lovely. such goodness, the life that springs forth. such beauty, all that she will grow to be. such a miracle, her existance. in this world, in our lives. i just can almost feel her in my arms, see her taking her first steps, see myself sneaking into her nursery to watch her sleep. it so close. so close to actually happening.

and the fear creeps in. will it ever be? or is this the best i get - just imagining and catching glimpses of what it could be like to be a mother. someone carelessly said to me today "well, at least you don't have to deal with all the hormones!".  hmm. how i wish i could have each and every experience of a pregnancy. even the ones, i suppose, that must feel like the ones tonight - is this actually going to happen? when will i be able to hold that precious life? when will motherhood begin? seemingly unbelievable. as one friend reminded me earlier this week: it can all change in a moment. one moment and we turn the page. enter a new chapter.

what an amazing thing, walking through life. so many unexpected turns and gifts and hurdles and lessons... all growing us  and changing us. from the inside out. we see only parts of the script, i think. so grateful tonight (and resting in the truth) that our loving God is carefully writing this story. he can handle my thoughts and fears and worries. he cares about them. i can give them to him. i can trust him.

restless

i think i'm catching a glimpse of what my friends and sisters who have experienced childbirth must have been feeling in the final days before birth. what a helplessly restless experience to be waiting and unable to make anything happen more quickly, and try to just relax in the "calm before the storm". so many unknowns. no guarantees, but knowing that things could change drastically so quickly. excitement, nervousness, restlessness.

we have not yet had the chance to meet with the birthparents of the precious baby girl that is scheduled to be born Monday. a situation came up in cleveland and the meeting had to be rescheduled. for today. we are still waiting, however, to see if today will happen because we've been graced with a new downpour of snow across the state. cleveland news calls it a "panhandle hook" - fast moving winter storm. hopefully it moves fast enough to get out of our way.

the last few days have been filled with anticipation. cleaning house, rearranging, making space ~ for a new person to come into our lives. i've been "nesting" again, i guess. achievements? my oven is clean; the medicine cabinet is decluttered and sparkling; kitchen is reorganized with adequate space for bottle making, cleaning and storing;  rooms are dusted and vacuumed; laundry is clean; nursery is open for business. now all we need is baby.

woah.

so, tomorrow is a big day.
we got a phone call this afternoon that the birthmom that we will be meeting tomorrow has been admitted to the hospital, and this baby could come any time. they're hoping to buy another week. but... we know how that can go. this baby girl could be here any time.
it's so close i can almost touch it.
still, there's the ever-present reality that another two couples who will also be meeting "birthmom" are hoping and praying for the same thing we are. for us, this means, while it feels SO CLOSE, it could ultimately be over very soon ~ this expectancy. 
talking with one of my sisters this afternoon i expressed that this "heart in my throat" feeling must be something like what one must feel when they find out they are pregnant - "this could really be it!" vs. "this might not last", but with such excitement and nervousness. i can't quite put it into words. but it struck me, this feeling i have this afternoon is maybe the closest i will ever get to whatever that other feeling must be. and when i think about what this could mean for us, and think about holding that sweet baby girl in my arms, there's this explosive feeling. wow. 
tomorrow is a big day.
so much to do tonight to get projects out of the way and be ready for whatever tomorrow will bring.
praying for grace and peace for our hearts, and for all the others' involved. what a delicate thing this all is.

my gain, someone else's loss

still pondering the complexity of our current situation. we FINALLY heard back from the adoption agency last night. we are one of three couples who have been chosen by the expectant couple i wrote about on Feb 1st to meet in person. we will meet them next Tuesday. so humbling. a little nerve wrecking. we are steadfast in our desire to "just be ourselves" for this "first date", and trust that if it's meant to be, there will be a connection. out of our hands, out of our control. SO HARD.  of course we wish and hope and pray that they will choose us, that we'll make a love connection, that this couple will decide we are the right ones to entrust their baby with, to raise and love and have as our own. we are longing for that to happen. LONGING. and then, i think about the other two "moms-to-be" that are hoping for the exact same thing. two of us are not getting the rose. two of us are going home, broken hearted, with empty arms. again.

this is one of those most tangible times we ask for and cling to the peace that passes all understanding.

makin' the headlines...

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dina-roth-port/infertility-the-disease-w_b_819978.html

it's february.

time keeps moving forward.

last week that little precious baby boy was likely born, that i had dreamed would be mine. vivid dreams, hopes, plans, onesies, diapers, and all. i hope all those hopeful and loving thoughts and gestures somehow contribute to some kind of goodness in his life. i believe that things worked out for the best. my loss is someone else's gain. i pray with kindness for his birthmom, who, i knew even when we met for the adoption planning, wanted him so much. 

today, a new expectant couple is supposed to be looking at our "profile", we've been told. i'm humbled again by this process. we are positioned in this place of hoping for something that ultimately comes from someone else's loss or misfortune. my idealistic thinking can craftily shape the situation to be otherwise. adoption IS, afterall, such a beautiful gift. but it is also filled with brokenness. pain, shame, regret, inadequacy, fear, lack of support, broken dreams, loss. hopefully adoption provides some measure of redemption or an answer to some of those things... a resolution to an unexpected plot change in someone's story....

so i wonder, what really do i pray? i feel i can't at this point just pray for this to "work out in our favor". there seems to be something much bigger going on. i pray for truth and peace and hope and grace to fill this situation. that this experience wouldn't just be one that brings further joy to MY life, but to the expectant couple of this baby. and if adoption is the next part of moving forward, and if we are the intended parents, that we can offer that joy and hope and grace... to all involved.

embracing the here and now.

my "daily promises" verse today is from Mark 11:22-24:
"Embrace this God-life. Really embrace it, and nothing wil be too much for you... That's why I urge you to pray for absolutely everything, ranging from small to large. Include everything as you embrace this God-life, and you'll get God's everything."

yesterday our church recognized "Sanctity of Life Sunday" and had a guest speaker from the local Pregnancy Center who shared stories and reminded us of the unique and individual purposes God has for each life, that life beginning at conception. she reminded us of the 52 million lives ended through abortion since 1973, and 12 abortions every 5 minutes of her 45 minute talk. 

following the speaker, our pastor led the congregation in a time of prayer for the women in crisis pregnancies, for healing for those affected by abortion, for strength for new and hopeful parents - both through pregancy and adoption. it was encouraging to be included and lifted up in those prayers, and very tangible to us, that our church community is so hopefully and confidently talking with God on our behalf.

sometimes I'm not sure what to pray for, but I'm so thankful that God sees the whole picture when I do not.
on thursday, we had a doctor's appointment with a specialist who basically turned upside down the things we had heard three years ago about our potential to conceive. this specialist told us we had a 60% chance of finding sperm to be used with ICSI (procedure where sperm are surgically retrieved and then injected into retrieved eggs, in the lab, and then placed back into the uterus for implantation).  60% chance? i'll tell you, the thoughts in the last few days have been all over the place. at first, how can you not want to try it? 60% versus "most likely impossible" seems like a big deal, right?  and yet, in context of the same situation we are in for all other intents and purposes, we're left to discuss: what do we want, who do we want to be, and at what cost are we willing to go after those things?  so we continue to prayerfully consider the answer to all of those questions...

tomorrow we plan to start classes with the local children's services organization to become eligible to serve as foster parents, and at the very least, to learn more about parenting, and the needs in our local community. we are taking steps, not certain of what will happen, but open to embrace whatever it is God has in store.

i guess i have a case of the "new year blahs". i'm having a hard time 1. feeling optimistic, 2. finding motivation to... fill in the blank, 3.deciding on resolutions that i can't with confidence believe i will follow, and 4. not being annoyed by people who are more successful or prone to do any of # 1-3.

i heard someone say that the best advice they had received while in the "waiting to adopt" stage was to "keep living". i know, somewhere, that this is exactly what i should be doing more faithfully, but i suppose right now i just don't feel like it. (that's not a cry for help or suicide warning). i'm just tired. and there's nothing that sounds all that appealing about life besides moving forward, but i don't want to move forward into other things without that one thing that i'm waiting for. so, i guess i'm stuck. exactly where i don't want to be. i'm thinking maybe some zoloft or welbutrin might do the trick. i think there's actually something wrong in my brain. perhaps selfinduced by internalized sadness and disappointment... over, and over, and over again. and something more than january's lack of sunshine. the sun was even shining again today a bit. two days in a row. but it's not shining inside my heart. my heart is in a hole. it's dark there. it wants to take a long long nap.
it wants to hide out for a little while... not have to put a smile on, not have to feel, not have to "do" anything.

i am grateful, truly, for the season of hopeful expectation we just experienced, regardless of the fact that it ended in disappointment. what else is new. but right now, even though a little voice tells me i can still be in that season, it feels artificial to be hopeful again. it feels foolish, like i'm  actually putting out cookies and waiting for Santa Claus. and a teeny bit of fire lights up (faith) that says - "He's coming" - but every part of reality seems to try to stomp out the flame. and my heart, which wants to win the argument, cries out "why does it have to take so long!?"

so please pray for me, friends. (and I know that you are.)
how much do i want to understand what this is all for. why the repetative series of hopes being disappointed. and i do believe that this is not forever, and that God is at work. I believe it somewhere, anyway. I hear the verses of scripture there. but my heart feels pretty numb. so, teeny bit of fire... keep burning... warm up those freezing cold numb parts again... circulate... Lord, let my heart warm up and help me to know, even when i don't see.