...but I have failed.
Maintaining two separate blogs does not work for me.
For adoption updates, please visit my family food blog at:
http://farm-raised.blogspot.com/
It's impossible to compartmentalize a life. Our adoption story is our family story.
That story is being told at Farm-Raised.
See you there!!
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
I have been a little quiet about our upcoming adoption here on this blog because it brings so much of a human heart to the uncomfortable surface that it’s impossible to put words on it. I am undeniably excited about being a mother to another child. I cannot wait to meet my child and to raise her in our little family in our little city in Iowa. I cannot wait to share my family with her; to teach her about poetry and music and food and friendship; to love her as much as I love my boys. I cannot wait for these things. But, it’s difficult to proclaim such joy and excitement without the cruel reality that my joy will spring from great loss.
I keep doing the math in my head – when will we meet our child? How old is she at this very moment? Has she been born into this world? For me, this is a calculation of reality. Right now, our child is likely in the second trimester within her mother’s womb. This child is not yet born, which inspires a feeling of love and protection for her, but more poignantly, a feeling of concern and appreciation for her mother. I think about this woman and the one thing we will forever share and it is incredibly humbling. And as she walks through this world, carrying this child, I have so many questions. I wonder what her circumstances are. I wonder if she is already haunted by the knowledge that she will not raise this child. Or perhaps she doesn’t even realize this yet. When will this idea begin to break her heart? She’s no doubt worried about this child. Does she delight in it as well? I wonder what her voice sounds like. I wonder what her hands look like. I wonder whether or not we would be friends if this world were a bit different.
Here’s something strange: Part of me never wants to have to meet her child. Can this be? I want to send her money and food and end it all right now. I think every adoptive mother must struggle with this issue. The reality is harsh.
I insert the tangible into my daydreams. In the least, I want to give her the things I found to be of comfort while I was pregnant with my boys: a new dress, a foot rub, a meatball sandwich. This, of course, is absurd.
It’s hard to get anxious and excited about something that comes with such loss. It’s hard to want to hurry my joy, when I know it will probably come at the unfathomable pain of another woman, someone who I already love at a level of love I had no idea existed. Our first home study is a week away. Time is undeniably marching on. Someday I will be unabashedly joyful and excited about the idea of international adoption. But, in the meantime, it’s a lot to process.
I keep doing the math in my head – when will we meet our child? How old is she at this very moment? Has she been born into this world? For me, this is a calculation of reality. Right now, our child is likely in the second trimester within her mother’s womb. This child is not yet born, which inspires a feeling of love and protection for her, but more poignantly, a feeling of concern and appreciation for her mother. I think about this woman and the one thing we will forever share and it is incredibly humbling. And as she walks through this world, carrying this child, I have so many questions. I wonder what her circumstances are. I wonder if she is already haunted by the knowledge that she will not raise this child. Or perhaps she doesn’t even realize this yet. When will this idea begin to break her heart? She’s no doubt worried about this child. Does she delight in it as well? I wonder what her voice sounds like. I wonder what her hands look like. I wonder whether or not we would be friends if this world were a bit different.
Here’s something strange: Part of me never wants to have to meet her child. Can this be? I want to send her money and food and end it all right now. I think every adoptive mother must struggle with this issue. The reality is harsh.
I insert the tangible into my daydreams. In the least, I want to give her the things I found to be of comfort while I was pregnant with my boys: a new dress, a foot rub, a meatball sandwich. This, of course, is absurd.
It’s hard to get anxious and excited about something that comes with such loss. It’s hard to want to hurry my joy, when I know it will probably come at the unfathomable pain of another woman, someone who I already love at a level of love I had no idea existed. Our first home study is a week away. Time is undeniably marching on. Someday I will be unabashedly joyful and excited about the idea of international adoption. But, in the meantime, it’s a lot to process.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
And we're off!
Once again we're moving forward! Woohoo! We officially mailed our novellas yesterday and will now wait to hear from our social worker. What a relief! After a month of intense thought and prayer, I am excited to be one small step closer to our kid(s)!!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Update.
We are still sitting on our paper work.
It turns out that there are some very serious things one must consider when adopting a child. Real world questions about life and death. Grown-up things about money and stability. Questions that, at times, seem to require a crystal ball. So, we’re taking our time and trying to really think through these tricky, tricky questions. I’ve been spending a lot of time in conversation with my husband, my head tilted and me saying things like, “Hmmm….” I’m also spending a lot of time in conversation with God, eyes toward the sky, me saying things like, “A little louder now, Lord…” And, “…Really?!?”
That’s our posture right now. We’re standing still. We’re thinking. We're slightly perplexed. We’re anxious, but we realize that some things can’t be rushed.
It turns out that there are some very serious things one must consider when adopting a child. Real world questions about life and death. Grown-up things about money and stability. Questions that, at times, seem to require a crystal ball. So, we’re taking our time and trying to really think through these tricky, tricky questions. I’ve been spending a lot of time in conversation with my husband, my head tilted and me saying things like, “Hmmm….” I’m also spending a lot of time in conversation with God, eyes toward the sky, me saying things like, “A little louder now, Lord…” And, “…Really?!?”
That’s our posture right now. We’re standing still. We’re thinking. We're slightly perplexed. We’re anxious, but we realize that some things can’t be rushed.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Something happier today.
This link makes me smile. In some ways it makes the grief of my previous posts more profound, but mostly it makes me smile.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFbNqivu4R4
I want to honor these people. I want to make clear that they are a beautiful, joyous group. They are not just the faces of hunger and poverty. It's important that we know and see that reality, but it's also important that we see this living, dancing example of humanity as well.
I'm sorry, I've been so serious lately! Enjoy the music and the laughter!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFbNqivu4R4
I want to honor these people. I want to make clear that they are a beautiful, joyous group. They are not just the faces of hunger and poverty. It's important that we know and see that reality, but it's also important that we see this living, dancing example of humanity as well.
I'm sorry, I've been so serious lately! Enjoy the music and the laughter!
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