Numb

Today we got rather disheartening news.  As of Wednesday we had been waiting six weeks since we submitted our home study for Little Girl.  All this waiting was supposed to culminate in finding answers, but it didn't.  I feel numb, sad, angry, frustrated...but mostly numb.

Earlier this week we emailed our caseworker to see if she could find out more information on where we were in the process.  Today we got the answer...nowhere.  Apparently Little Girl is struggling with some emotional issues so they have decided to hold off on finding a placement.  Once they feel she is doing better they will proceed.  So I asked our caseworker if that meant they hadn't even looked at the home studies they collected.  Her answer...Yes.  

All of this waiting was supposed to be taking us somewhere.  There was supposed to be an end in sight.  But there isn't...once they feel she is ready (if they ever do) they will begin the six to eight week process of finding her a forever home.

When I heard this news I felt like I was caught in a tail spin.  I kept telling myself that I could make it to the six week mark everything would be ok.  Every day we were getting closer and closer.  Just hang in there.  Now I'm on an indefinite path that may not lead any where.  Now please do not confuse what I am saying.  I want them to do right by Little Girl and make the best placement decision for her.  I can understand why they are waiting, but that doesn't make it any easier.

I feel like I'm back at the starting gate again....and all I feel is numb.

God, whatever's in front of me, help me to say hallelujah. 

The Wait

I've had this new post up for about two days now.  I've written and deleted about five times, trying to think of something clever to say.  I've been putting off updating because I've been hoping that today will be the day.  Today I will get to email you and tell you that we will be parents...but sadly that day hasn't come.  

Each day weighs a little heavier on me than the day before.  I feel more anxious, nervous, and frustrated.  I hate waiting in general, but waiting for something as incredible as this is almost excruciating.  When people try to comfort me by telling me its worth the wait, it only makes me more frustrated.  I KNOW that is true, but my heart has a hard time following suit and it aches.  

So we are still waiting.  We've been waiting for 5 1/2 weeks for little girl and 2 weeks for baby boy.

God, help me to trust your perfect timing.  Whatever's in front of me...rejection, parenthood, more waiting, the unknown, happiness, heartache, whatever...help me to say hallelujah.  

Whatever's In Front of Me...

I'm scared.

In a few weeks we will know if we were chosen for one or both of the children...just like that.  What if they don't pick us for either of them?  What if they pick us for both of them and we have to choose one?  What if she is scared of me?  What if we have to start the process all over again?  What will happen when everything that is normal and comfortable changes?  There is so much hope riding here, and with one simple phone call everything will change, for better or worse.

That huge cloud of the unknown that looms before us and cannot be subdued.  It's bitter and violent wind take your sight away, and leave you staggering forward, each step less steady than the one before.     I feel helpless, and out of control.  The answers that wait for us on the other side scare me.

I never thought I would say this but there is safety in the waiting.  Everything is so final when the waiting is over.  At least when you are waiting, you can you can relish in the hope and dreaming, and altogether avoid the finality of the answers to come.

Today at church we sang one of my favorite songs.  The chorus says:

Hallelujah hallelujah

Whatever's in front of me 

Help me to sing Hallelujah

As that beautiful melody filled my ears and thoughts, their implications weighed heavy on me.  I could sing...

Hallelujah hallelujah

They didn't choose us

Help me to sing Hallelujah

or

Hallelujah hallelujah

I'm becoming the parent of a child I do not know 

Help me to sing Hallelujah

or

Hallelujah hallelujah

My child wants another woman she calls mother 

Help me to sing Hallelujah

or

Hallelujah hallelujah

Everything I knew and was comfortable with has changed in the matter of moments 

Help me to sing Hallelujah

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  - - - - - -  

God, whatever is in front of me, give me the strength and hope to face it.  Help me to sing hallelujah.

Fortune Cookies

Shawn and I went to a restaurant called Fire Bowl in Austin. His fortune is on top, and mine's on bottom. Is someone trying to tell us something???

Bringing Me Back

I think this is about the fifth time I've tried to write this entry.  For some reason, I can't seem to get my thoughts to flow.  I think it's because I am still grappling with them, and trying to wrap my head around all of their implications.  So here is what's going down...

Today, while having lunch with a coworker, I got an email from our case worker about a baby boy.  This isn't all that uncommon.  I'm trying to build thicker skin because I found myself emotionally invested after reading the first word.  And even though in the past the answer was no (Which was the right answer for us.) it is still hard to say.  You are snuffing out the life of a dream.  Even though it lasted only moments, it was a dream none the less, and with it came hope and expectancy.  As I read over baby boy's information quickly my heart skipped a beat, several beats, and a dream was born.  Unlike its predecessors, this dream was promising...it just might work.  I forwarded the email to Shawn, and promptly texted him to check his email ASAP.  The dream lived on.  I called him, and there wasn't much to discuss, we both felt we should submit our home study.  The dream lived on.  We called our case worker and told her to submit.  She told us there wasn't a deadline or timeline that she could find in the file, but that she assumed it would be a few weeks before we heard anything.  And the dream lives on...while we wait...until it either blossoms into reality or disappears altogether.

Most of you know that this is not our first time to submit on a child.  We also submitted our home study on a little girl about  four weeks ago.  Another dream that has taken up residence in purgatory waiting for its sentence.   The hard thing is that little girl is a dream that I have had time to become quite familiar with, and have begun to hope earnestly for.   And incase you didn't know....hope is a dirty business.  It's messy and unnerving, and has the power to create and destroy.  

---Holy cow, I just got it.  Hope, when put in the wrong thing or process is messy, but when put in God it is safe.  Why?  Because he is unchanging...he will be there no matter what the answer for baby boy or little girl is...There is a purpose and plan that goes beyond their answers.  When I put my hope in the process, that is when it becomes messy, because the process can break my heart.  Geez, how's that for a little bulb coming on!  Ok...back to my post--

There are several ways this could play out:
1.  We only get baby boy.
2.  We only get little girl.
3.  We get both little girl and baby boy.  (No lie, but I like number 3.)
4.  We don't get either of them.  (My least favorite, but I trust that there is a child out there that is for us.)

It is in the mess and chaos of this whole process and all of its unknowns that I feel like God is bringing me back to Himself.  That he is trying to show me to trust him, and reminding me that he has a plan for us.  And, as of five minutes ago...that hope placed in Him, is not messy, because he will always be...no matter what our answers are for baby boy or little girl.  Today as my mind swam in the possibilities, these verses kept coming back.
Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.” (NIV)
Proverbs 37:4, 7 "Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you your heart's desires...Be still in the presences of the Lord, and wait patiently for him to act."
Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

So now, with properly placed hope,...we wait.

Rage Against the Refrigerator

Just a heads up, this post has nothing to do with adoption and everything to do with my compulsive overeating.

Anyone who says compulsive overeating is not an addiction has either (a) never struggled tirelessly fighting food, (b) never had an addiction to begin with, or (c) is just plain stupid...yes I said...stupid.  I hear people say it is a choice, not an addiction.  However I would contend that it is a choice in as much as alcoholics choose to drink or smokers to choose to smoke.  Likewise, just as smokers and alcoholics turn to their instrument of choice to cope with life, compulsive overeaters find solace in food.

Am I proud of it?  No

Am I trying to make excuses?  No

Am I embarrassed at my eating habits?  Yes

I think in some ways smokers and alcoholics have it easier.  You can go out of your way to avoid liquor and cigarettes, but you can't avoid food.  For one it is required to sustain life, and second, it is at the crux of almost every social event or exchange.  For example my husband smokes (huge gasp!).  He has been trying to quit off and on for years.  This week is "the week".  He is throwing in the towel.  He will stay home and avoid going out to stores or around people who smoke, until he's gotten over the worst of it.  I can't do that.  I have to put food in my mouth three to five times a day, and with each meal fight my own micro-battle.  (Please do not take this as me making light of the struggles smokers and alcoholics face...their battles rage on just as brutally.)

And you know what...I'm tired.

I'm tired of going it alone, of having no body there to help me and cheer me on.  When has war ever been won that had one person fighting an entire army?

I'm tired of feeling like a failure, because I just can't seem to do it.

I'm tired of fighting.

I'm tired of feeling ugly and looking at myself in the mirror never to find peace.

I'm tired of food having this control over me.

I'm tired of the grieving process you go through when you say good by to your old ways of eating.

I'm tired of carrying 250lbs around with me everywhere I go...yes you read that correctly.

I'm tired of the judgement I'll get when some of you read that.

I'm tired of having to shop in the plus size section, never feeling comfortable in my clothes.

I'm tired of feeling guilty that my weight is most of what is keeping me from getting pregnant.

I'm tired of peoples pity.

Most of all...I'm just tired.

About five years ago now, I had the most amazing friend, MJ.  We lived in Lebanon together, and she was my rock.  We both worked out at the same gym, which is how we started hanging out...that and our hearts club.  Those were the good times!  We depended a lot on each other...when I was feeling totally down and "blah" she was there to push me and drag me to the gym...and vice versa.  That year I lost almost 60lbs.  We were in it together...I didn't fight that war alone.  I miss that friendship so much, it makes me cry sometimes.

As I sit here typing this, I know its a matter of making a simple choice...just flipping the switch...  I know it's a call for reflection and trying to determine why and who I am really doing the for, and what drives this unhealthy and inappropriate relationship with food.  I know that it takes a total commitment.  In overeaters anonymous (and AA i think) they say "Half measures availed us nothing."

I know...

I know...

I know...

Thank you God for day and night.

Have you ever wondered what life would be like we had 24 hours of total day or total night? Until tonight I hadn't either...don't worry!  When I thought about it, all of one and complete absence of the other would be unbearable.  As I consider the possibilities I was reminded of the beauty found in balance.

That's what Shawn is for me.  He is is the day to my night.  We are different sides of the same coin.  He is the counterweight that provides balance in our relationship.  I am the emotional one.  Love will conquer all so let's throw caution to the wind and go for it.  If it were up to me, we would probably have 100 kids by now and adopting five more!  Shawn on the other hand is very thoughtful and analytical.  He is slow to act because he is deeply reflective, and wants to have all the information and weigh all the possibilities .

There are times that it drives me absolutely crazy, but yet in hindsight, I can see how he has saved us from getting into things we may not have been ready for.  I see the beauty in  our balance, and not a day goes by that I am not thankful for him.  God definitely knew what hew as doing bringing us together.  He is a wonderful husband, and my best friend.  I love his kindness and generosity...not to mention the fact that he's a total stud!  There is not a single doubt in my mind that he will make the most AMAZING father ever.

Until then...

I am going to work on trusting and appreciating the balance that he brings to my life.

I love you Shawn.

Hindsight, how I love you!

Before getting into the adoption process, I knew it would be hard.  But nothing could have prepared me for just how hard it would be.  You are on a nonstop emotional roller coaster that take you to the highest of higher, and in a moments notice, plunge you into the darkest and lowest of lows.  

Since receiving our license at the beginning of May we have received a total of seven calls for placements.  Most have been fairly cut and dry.  There have only been two that we have considered or acted on.  The first is a three-year-old girl whom we submitted our home study for.  Two and a half weeks later, we still have heard nothing...not a peep.  So we wait...

The second one we found out about on this past Wednesday...it seems like an eternity ago.  We agonized over this one.  It was a precious three-month-old boy.  All CPS would us was that he was born 12 weeks early and would come home on oxygen.  From that we were supposed to make a decision, just like that, to turn our world upside down.  Thankfully, the agency we work with hounded CPS to get more information, which still wasn't much.  When we began to research the health risks associated with being born that early, we felt it would be too much for us to take on, especially considering how little information they were willing to share.  

I have never been so heart broken and confused when we said no before as I was this time.  For the past few days I have done nothing but cry and wonder if we had made a huge mistake.  How could the right decision feel so wrong?  In my journal last night I wrote:

           What happens when you have to live in the reality of your choices...  

         when the only thing you feel is empty, sad, and longing.  Was your choice 

          wrong?  Or, was it just a hard decision to make, in which you have 

           to live in it's bitter aftermath?

It finally got to the point where I had to turn it over to God.  Last night I prayed that he would help me to see his will and hand in this situation.  I needed some sort of peace or release, so that I could begin to move forward.

Today, I got that release.  Our agency emailed us asking for an up-to-date copy of our auto insurance policy.  My curiosity got the best of me. So I asked if they had any new information about the baby.  Today, she emailed me back.  They had a family go to the hospital for the baby.  He was much more frail than what CPS had let on.  Rather than being born at 28 weeks, he had been born at 23 weeks, and had a long way to go.  She reminded me that things often turn out the way they do for a reason, and that Shawn and I would find a match we would both feel comfortable with.  

Hindsight is always 20/20.  Now that I can see the bigger picture, I understand why we were not able to get him.  I feel peace in knowing, that even though it was a hard decision, we made the right one.  I also have peace in knowing that this sweet baby is with a good family who is equipped to care for his needs.  

So, thank you God for hearing my prayer and answering me.

How did we get here?

Our wedding on Mustang Island = The Best Day Ever!

Shawn and I have been married for about two and a half years, and have decided we wanted to start a family.  About a year ago I went off the pill hoping to make that happen.  Unfortunately, it hasn't been all that easy, no thanks to polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS).  I rarely, if at all ovulate, which is kind of important when your trying to have a baby!

We haven't gotten very far into the whole fertility treatment process.  I've tried drugs like Metformin and Prometrium, neither of which did anything but turned me into a crazy person!  (You can ask me my husband!)  My obgyn says I can start chlomid once I have lost 30lbs, so instead I gained 15 more!  My weight has ALWAYS been an issue and is standing in the way of me being able to get pregnant...at least one of the reasons.  You'd think that would be all the motivation one needs to make some major changes.  But what I have come to realize about compulsive overeaters, like myself, is that food is an addiction that is hard to kick.  Choosing to give up certain foods or lifestyles, is like breaking up with a boyfriend.  There is a period of grief you experience that almost breaks you.  It is your safe haven when times are stressful.  It's the one thing that will always make you happy, if only for a few minutes.  Yeah...in case you didn't notice I have some serious issues with food, but I digress!

Back to the adoption...

This whole process has caused me to really contemplate the true meaning of motherhood.  For so long, it meant carrying a baby inside me, feeling it kick, rushing to the hospital because it was time, and bringing a new life into this world.  If that is motherhood...what does it mean for those who may never experience those things?  Would that make us any less mothers?  Yet it is a crushing blow every time you pee on a stick and see nothing.  You hold the pregnancy test in the light and out of the light.  You hold it far away and up close.  You tilt it this way and that...hoping that somewhere behind that glossy window a faint line is struggling to be seen.  In two to three minutes you are defeated.  You are unable to do the one thing you, as a woman, are supposed to be able to do...make a baby.

What do you do with that?  What does it mean?

What I have come to realize is that it doesn't mean anything.  Don't get me wrong delivering a baby and holding it for the first time is a magical moment that I will always long for, but is it something I need?  Those are dreams I am beginning to let go of, because as I begin to redefine motherhood those things are not important.  A mother is someone who loves her child with every ounce of her being...I can do that.  They soothe and comfort owies and broken hearts...I can do that.  They are your biggest fan...I can be that.  They pick you up when you fall down, brush you off, and send you on your way again...I can do that.  They teach how to be the best human being you can possibly be...I can do that.   None of these things require pushing a baby out your body, but rather they require a choice to accept the role.
As we've begun this process, I see there are children all around me who need someone to accept the call to motherhood on their behalf.  I can be that person for a child whose birthmother could not.

So, here we are...

Waiting...

Waiting for that call that will change our lives forever.