tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-497300512773404442024-03-14T01:36:57.677-04:00Rejoice With JoyAngehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.comBlogger193125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-35888283060294559842013-12-20T14:12:00.001-05:002013-12-20T14:12:58.830-05:0018 months old and 5 years Our sweet son is 18 months old this December! It's hard to believe that time passes so quickly. It's so fun to watch a baby grow up. I wish at times I could freeze time to enjoy his babyhood even longer! So we try to enjoy every day instead.<br />
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In the years full of grief, I was so worried I would have difficulty parenting a son. Trauma does strange things to a person. Mean things. I am grateful that parts of my wounded mothering heart have healed. In part because we have a son.<br />
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I became very reflective and sad today after receiving a Christmas email from our former agency. So much came rushing back. Five years ago this month, we were driving downtown in the traffic rush, attempting to get all of our documents apostilled to send off. Our dossier was mailed. We spent Christmas with the exhilaration that soon we'd have our 4 children.<br />
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The sadness that still lingers is different now. I've fully embraced our family, as a family of 3. I'm present in the moments each day brings, and my identity has changed somewhat. Yet my heart still bears the scar of pain. It has allowed me to come alongside others in pain. It has changed how I want my son to grow up. It affects how I view God's redemptive work.<br />
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I've given the children over to God now; my hands are open. It no longer feels disloyal.<br />
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But tears come still. Soft, slight tears. Then the deep catch around my chest. The children are loved from afar.<br />
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And at the same time, tears of deep gratitude well up as I look at my son. That God had such mercy for us. That He gave me the gift of forever motherhood. That I am loved by God.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-59341624817752382832013-04-20T22:03:00.001-04:002013-04-20T22:03:58.393-04:0010 months oldMy sweet son is 10 months old already! He had an MRI at the beginning of April to finally get to the bottom of his rapid head growth. And the result is "Benign Macrocrania." He has a little extra fluid, but absolutely no pressure on the brain. And the fluid isn't causing the growth. So the Doc's thought is that he'll just grow into his head at some point.<br />
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Meanwhile, the boy is wearing 5T hats...<br />
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It was such a relief to get that final determination of normal brain and skull growth. His motor skills have caught up from being premature and having a massive head to work at holding up, and he's right on track developmentally now. But we're in no hurry for him to walk. His trunk is still his weakest part, and every day spent crawling and scooting just makes him stronger!<br />
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For some reason, maybe because it's spring, I've been thinking about the ninos a lot. Like constantly. Or maybe it's because H is turning 15 this summer, and I'm having a hard time not worrying she's going to be kicked out on her own. But we also have been going through the bedroom where all of their things have been stored. Sweetie boy is already wearing some of the clothes we had for the youngest nino. The toys have been well loved by neighbors and family. But H's clothes have been in a drawer.<br />
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I break down in sobs every time I open the drawer. Today, I pulled the clothes out while J played on the floor next to me. I cried as I put them into a box. I cried as I looked in the closet and pulled out a gift bag someone had given us right before we left for Colombia that we didn't have time to put away-the gifts were all still inside.<br />
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I'm beginning to understand why I have such a hard time parting with their things. The boys' clothes aren't as difficult because we had to take nearly all of them with us, and what's left I'm just saving for J. H's things are much harder.<br />
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The act of giving up the clothes somehow signifies in my mind that the children no longer exist. But that's not true. It's like in my mind if I get rid of their things, they'll somehow cease to be.<br />
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Once again, I'm reminded how much sadness can coexist with happiness.<br />
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May the Lord bless them and keep them.<br />
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Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-91632851384050360982013-02-09T20:59:00.000-05:002013-02-09T20:59:02.158-05:00MotheringOur sweet son is nearly 8 months old. 34 weeks actually. He is our little joy boy.<br />
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I have been so wonderfully blessed to be his mama. I can not put into words how grateful I am to have a child- to have my sweet smiley son.<br />
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So since I've been spending my time nursing, playing, sleeping, changing diapers and reveling in motherhood, here's what we've had going on:<br />
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June- J was born a month early. He was jaundiced but nursed enough to flush it out.<br />
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July- He gained weight well, but the Dr. was concerned about his rapid head growth. He had an ultrasound and no fluid was found, but there was an atypical "stripe" in his brain.<br />
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August- 7 week old J flew to Seattle for his uncle's wedding! The Dr. referred us to a neurosurgeon because his head growth was still rapid.<br />
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September- The neurosurgeon said he couldn't find anything "wrong" but wanted to do an xray because of his head shape. The xray was fine. We also made a visit to early intervention as J was not holding his head up at all.<br />
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October- Early intervention assessed him and he qualified for therapy due to gross and fine motor delays. His head still was rapidly growing. But at the end of the month, he finally started to hold his head up!<br />
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November- J flew to the other ocean! Occupational therapy began for J. It was pretty tortuous for mama.<br />
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December- He had his first car trip more than an hour. The 3 1/2 hour trip took nearly 6. He nurses a lot. ;) Therapy continues and J makes fantastic progress.<br />
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January- We finally get to see the neurologist. He says the rate of growth is "very concerning" but sees no syndrome symptoms or red flags. But he orders an MRI. J's head is now the size of a 2 year olds. (This continues to be VERY scary for me at times)<br />
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February- The OT says J is doing so well we can go to 2 visits a month instead of 4. He is nearly crawling now!<br />
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He is still nursing, and we love it. He loves to smile and laugh and his favorite toy is a mini pink colander. He is ticklish on his thighs, and when he wants a toy, he lunges forward with his mouth open. He doesn't like to ride in the car past 5 pm, but doesn't make a peep about it before then. He has an intolerance to dairy and soy, so that means I can't eat it either. Aside from not finding food to eat when we're out, it actually hasn't been too bad. It's amazing what one will do for love!<br />
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<br />Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-29774422113065287902012-11-01T17:28:00.000-04:002012-11-01T17:28:33.209-04:00RememberingThe other night I ha a dream. S and I had gone back to Colombia. We were in a room, and someone came in telling us that the children were about to come in. They did, and they were older. Strange how my dream continued them all in their growth. In my dream I was crying as I hugged them-sobbing.<br />
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I ponder how we will tell our son about them. I don't want them forgotten.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-84526944229005600032012-06-24T07:51:00.001-04:002012-06-28T18:44:33.705-04:00Our son!At 1:40 a.m. on June 14th, my water broke. Our son was born at 2:08 pm at 36w4d-a late pretem baby. He was 9lbs 1 oz and 21 1/2" long. He is beautiful!<br />
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As some of you might notice on the timeline below, the 14th is not the first time we left home as expectant parents. And the 16th isn't the first time we came home as new parents.<br />
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God's redemptive work. I pray for all 5 of the children I love that they will know the fullness of God's love.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-26056664133480959152012-06-06T07:57:00.001-04:002012-06-06T07:57:33.911-04:00One month 'til babyAs the months have gone by, I've still been overcome with disbelief and gratitude that the Lord is giving us a child. For so much of it, I really don't have the words to communicate what I feel. We are so humbled that the Lord is giving us a child after all the angst with infertility. All the waiting and frustrations with adoption paperwork, all the turmoil during the time with the kids, and the anger after we came home without them. It's certainly shown me that God doesn't work like people work. He doesn't give good things based on some kind of "goodness" we show, or a ratio of "good to bad."<br />
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His mercy and grace are pure and true. His plan is to redeem his creation. Somehow, we are part of that. We suffer pain and begin to see glimpses of the suffering of Christ. Our ability to see needs of people around us expands. The extent to which I believe God is good has grown with the extent of my pain and grief. And now, it grows with the magnitude of God's gift of a child while I am yet undeserving of such grace.<br />
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The rest of our life right now is not roses and blossoms. Things are quite topsy turvy, and stressful without the addition of a little baby. And yet, somehow-through God's grace, we are able to bear them. The acceptance part of grief has played a part I think. For so long, i fought and fought and fought. I'd think, "This can't be the life God has for me today. It just couldn't be, because I can't handle it." (the verse about God not tempting us beyond what we can bear will forever remain a mystery to me- what it actually entails and how it works out..)<br />
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And then after a long, long time, acceptance begins to make it's way in. In my case, it was a spiritual battle and a cerebral one. And over time, it seemed to surge and encompass more than just accepting that the four kids weren't to be a physical part of our life.<br />
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This acceptance certainly isn't magical. It certainly doesn't happen every single time we're faced with a situation we wish was going a different way. But in looking back on the past three years, we see the Lord's protection and love. Kinda like the blind man in Mark's Gospel that sees trees at first, and when Jesus touches him again, his sight is restored.<br />
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I am so excited about holding our son. So very excited!<br />
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<br />Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-45768297693417086792012-05-01T06:35:00.002-04:002012-05-01T06:35:44.487-04:00Three years laterThree years ago, April 28th, marked the day we received our referral for the four children. It was the day we'd waited 3 years for. We were going to be parents.<br />
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The following days were filled with anticipation and pretty much frenzied preparation. Until we had the referral, we could tentatively make ready, but the massive clothing, toy and child accoutrement acquisition happened after the referral came. May was full of yard sales, thrift stores, sorting through things people gave us, and figuring out where in the world we were going to put all this new stuff. Cause it was a lot! And we were so excited. Nervous, but excited.<br />
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It's only natural than, that the following Mays, Junes and Julys have been difficult. So many reminders.<br />
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Last summer, we decided to try to add happy memories to June. We desperately needed it, with M-Day and F-day falling in those 3 months along with everything else.<br />
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Blessedly, we did. But the Lord, in His grace, gave us more. He gave us a child.<br />
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Our son is due right around the time we left Colombia. He could even be born on one of the days we were there. Days that have only been filled with grief and sadness, will now have added to them, joy. Redemption. Grace.<br />
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This has never escaped us. As I folded laundry yesterday, i thought back to three years ago when I was doing the same thing. Folding bigger laundry then, tiny laundry now. Every time I hold a little shirt, I am reminded of how much mercy God has bestowed upon us. I feel so humbled that He has given us the gift of a child, the gift of a span of time that has meant only sadness until now.<br />
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He has added joy to our sorrow. They will forever live alongside each other, as a mother never forgets her children. The experiences we've had will make me a different mother than I was three years ago.<br />
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May God's kingdom come and His will be done.<br />
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<br />Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-21267093018639031932012-04-10T06:25:00.000-04:002012-04-10T06:25:20.944-04:00God's KingdomI grew up with the mindset of "when we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be", to quote a song we used to sing. Little was spoken about our life here on earth, except for following God's rules. And the message I heard was that God's invitation to us was about us following the rules.<br />
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But that has all been turned upside down. What kind of life would we have if we couldn't experience the Lord's reign in the here and now? With Jesus' birth, life, death and resurrection, we can experience His Kingdom now. We live in the hope of Jesus- the Kingdom he ushered in while He was here on earth, and the hope that He will make all things new.<br />
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Over the past six years especially, this has been very important to me. My daily life is not a dull, waiting-it-out-for-heaven one. It's one guided by the knowledge that God's Kingdom can come in the here and now, and it's my calling as a citizen of His kingdom to welcome it into my life and the lives of those around me.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-66638018556149646022012-03-31T13:28:00.000-04:002012-03-31T13:28:33.897-04:00Just some thoughtsMy husband often teases me that I use this blog as a "diary in the sky". I use it to process my thoughts and feelings, and say things that I might not actually say in person to someone. Strange, but it's therapeutic for me.<br />
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And as such, it may tend to get the brunt of my angst, struggle, and so forth.<br />
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So, to even it out a little:<br />
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I am beyond thrilled to be expecting our son. It's a wondrous gift. Every day I feel him moving around and can't believe I am experiencing it. My belly is getting bigger, and as his birth day nears, I'm so excited. I can hardly wait to hold him in my arms and kiss his sweet cheeks.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-3142837536447260652012-03-26T18:35:00.000-04:002012-03-26T18:35:51.504-04:0025 weeksWell, here at 25 weeks, I'm feeling ok. Baby boy moves a lot, and it's simply wonderful to feel it. At first it kinda freaked me out, like I had a zombie in me, but now it's natural feeling. I'm very much looking forward to having him in my arms. The ten days I had with the ninos, while filled with intense struggle, were still sweet to me. I'm still amazed that I get to experience motherhood again.<br />
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Preparing for this baby feels so much the same, and yet so much different. I think the biggest difference is the fact that he'll attach so quickly. He already knows our voices. He'll accept comfort from us. We won't be in battle to build a family; fighting years of trauma. It'll just happen. Sometimes I feel guilty. But this is what the Lord has given us. And it is good.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-2932169224872186172012-02-29T15:58:00.000-05:002012-02-29T15:58:19.124-05:00UntitledThis week has been rough. I was getting in my car yesterday when I realized I needed to scrape my windshield. It's that time of the year in Ohio when you don't know if you'll need a T-shirt or an ice scraper. Anyway, yesterday I needed an ice scraper. But all the seats were down in the back of my truck, and the scraper was stuck under them. As much as I lugged at the seats, I couldn't get them up.<br />
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There are so many things in life I can't do anything about. And sitting, waiting for them to work themselves out gets me so frustrated, angry, or even livid. I drove to work with clenched teeth saying, "I won't let this dictate my emotional regulation. Nope. Nope" (yes, I did say emotional regulation to myself...)<br />
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Yesterday was also one of the ninos' birthdays. Those days are always rough.<br />
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I made it through though. Maybe not as gracefully or as regulated as I would have liked, but that's the case sometimes.<br />
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And now I eat my coconut M&Ms.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-77809011494161840782012-01-15T15:21:00.000-05:002012-01-15T15:21:04.407-05:00Thoughts on the pregnancyI stopped expecting what pregnancy would be a like a long time ago. Because of that, it's been kinda nice to take things as they come. However, a little expectation of how sick I'd be might have been helpful. I've had pretty bad nausea. My sister kept telling me to ask my Doctor for zofran, but I thought, "Hey, most people throw up this often, right?" Apparently not. After about 4 weeks of that awfulness, zofran at least reduced the frequency. And I've had a cold 3 times and am on my second round of antibiotics. The past 15 weeks have wiped me out. Sometimes it can be frustrating to hear someone say, "It's all for a good cause," or something like that when they're the ones that asked how I'm doing! Ok, vent over I guess.<br />
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We find out in 5 weeks the gender. Neither of us as any idea if the baby is a boy or girl, and we don't have a preference. We are just so grateful that God is giving us a child.<br />
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I continue to process the grief I have regarding the ninos, and how it runs alongside being pregnant. I still think of them every day and pray for them. I still have most of their things here in the house, and still feel that I can't get rid of them. I've given some things away, but most of it is still as it was, ready for them to come home to. I'll have to do something with H's clothes since that's where the baby's room will be. But I think that is the hardest part for me to tackle emotionally. While there's room in my heart to love her and our baby, moving her things out still seems a little like betrayal. She was so excited about her room...<br />
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So that's what I've been pondering lately.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-76802294074575180172011-12-17T16:55:00.000-05:002011-12-17T16:55:00.934-05:00We're having a baby in JulyI truly thought that would be something I'd never be able to say. The past weeks have been filled with wonder, disbelief, excitement and peace.<br />
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When we began the adoption, I began to work on my expectations of life. Like lots of little girls, I grew up dreaming of the day I'd get married and have children. When that didn't turn out like I expected, it was rough. The struggle with infertility lasted a while. We made a decision that, unknown to us at the time, would change our lives forever. We decided to build our family through adoption.<br />
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When that didn't work out, and our hearts were crushed, full of love for the four children we'd been Mami and Papi to for such a short time, I didn't know if I would survive. Most of the time, I didn't think I would.<br />
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It's been 2 1/2 years since that awful day we said goodbye. In these 2 1/2 years, my belief of who God is, who He created me to be, and my role in His kingdom has radically changed.<br />
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Grief has changed me.<br />
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Being a childless mother has changed me.<br />
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Trusting God in the middle of hellish circumstances has changed me.<br />
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When we first discovered we were going to have a baby, I was in complete disbelief. "Not me," I'd think, "I don't get pregnant."The reality of Gods great grace and mercy hit me hard. There was no way I deserved this. So many times I'd doubted Him. So many times I'd been unwilling to open my hands and trust Him in the middle of my pain.<br />
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And that is the wonder of God's grace. We don't deserve it. And yet He still gives good things to His children. For His glory.<br />
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All Glory be to God in the Highest!Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-26529025150570411252011-12-03T10:41:00.000-05:002011-12-03T10:41:16.442-05:00AcceptanceIt's strange how a big change in my job could have such an impact on my grief. But it has. Being back at a school with people I love dearly and who care about me, has greatly impacted my grieving. In a good way. I've at numerous interactions with my students that have forced me to confront my fears left over from parenting, and I now wholly believe I can be a good mom. The lies that my brain and the trauma encouraged have been "beat down" through experience.<br />
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And of course our church family. Being part of a church family who seeks to integrate suffering into the life of believers has been redeeming. No longer do I sit and feel like my suffering is something I should be "gettting over" because God has something better for me. Now I fully know that this suffering has been part of His Good story. I'm part of His story. Not the other way around.<br />
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I'm learning to accept the life that the Lord gives us, and it has been a time of peace.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-2754043123056625342011-09-14T18:38:00.000-04:002011-09-14T18:38:35.579-04:00Sad, Mad, Bad: And meFirst of all, I would like to say exactly what's on my mind. There are no words except these:<br />
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Life can be really shitty.<br />
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There. I said it.<br />
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My students at school live lives that make my soul hurt. They make me hurt for the four ninos. The lives they have and can't control make me so angry. The frustration that wells up inside of me, frustration that the adoption didn't turn out differently; we so wanted it too. With all of our beings. Seeing the response from kids at school that I wanted to see before. Embracing a child after they've been through discipline and are repentant. Feeling the joy of renewal and connection. I wanted that so badly with my children.<br />
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I rejoice that my students experience it. Yet I'm torn between the deep longing it brings for the ninos, and the joy I have with my students.<br />
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They kingdom come Lord, on earth. In my life, in my classroom, in every interaction I have. Because only You make this worth it.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-65297360001103120742011-08-23T06:11:00.000-04:002011-08-23T06:11:16.981-04:00Grief Ambushes and KindergartenGrief certainly is a companion one can't predict. It springs up in odd places and at seemingly random times. But I can't ever predict which factor will set it off, now over two years later. But the past three weeks have had overflowing grief. I am so thankful we attend a church where this is embraced as part of our humanity.<br />
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H turned 13 last Friday. That was really rough; is really rough. E should be starting kindergarten, and I'm teaching kindergarten for the first time. Lots of areas for grief to well up.<br />
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In terms of kindergarten, I feel strangely at peace about it. Strange because I assumed I'd be pretty nervous and am not nearly so as much as I thought I'd be. And the peace part is certainly different from what I've experienced in my job before. I don't think I could ever say I was at peace when school started. Which is strange too.<br />
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These kindergarteners are going to crack me up. The first one I met announced, "I knew it! I knew you'd be pretty!"<br />
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Thanks for making my evening, little one!<br />
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Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-44147365494023367372011-08-04T14:19:00.000-04:002011-08-04T14:19:45.919-04:00Donors ChooseSo I was watching Stephen Colbert the other day, and heard about this <a href="http://www.donorschoose.org/mrsdoc">Donors Choose</a> website for teachers. Basically, teachers can request needed materials, and other people or businesses can fund it.<br />
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So I set it up! Check it out!<br />
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</span>Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-36048671234459128512011-07-27T08:57:00.001-04:002011-07-27T09:23:48.382-04:00California Sunshine!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course, what's a trip without picking up stones?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cOn4akMnMs0/TjAJNqQn2EI/AAAAAAAAAY8/eDpoXSf7JSo/s1600/IMG_1670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cOn4akMnMs0/TjAJNqQn2EI/AAAAAAAAAY8/eDpoXSf7JSo/s320/IMG_1670.JPG" width="204" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_C0pIg9hP-c/TjAJ8AwdPFI/AAAAAAAAAZE/b5PtqNmomE4/s1600/IMG_1625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_C0pIg9hP-c/TjAJ8AwdPFI/AAAAAAAAAZE/b5PtqNmomE4/s320/IMG_1625.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Any Bachel.*r.ette fans? Does this look familiar? A certain date in Sonoma??<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0yPDK1AGYdI/TjAJ9sv5fXI/AAAAAAAAAZI/Pjuu6sB1VCg/s1600/IMG_1731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0yPDK1AGYdI/TjAJ9sv5fXI/AAAAAAAAAZI/Pjuu6sB1VCg/s320/IMG_1731.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zvgi0LK502M/TjAKFYL-LxI/AAAAAAAAAZM/PgkKt5dtjgI/s1600/IMG_1798.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zvgi0LK502M/TjAKFYL-LxI/AAAAAAAAAZM/PgkKt5dtjgI/s320/IMG_1798.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cy4Y3AohM0w/TjAKLoTsHEI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/lSC6MlMjyDU/s1600/IMG_1829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cy4Y3AohM0w/TjAKLoTsHEI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/lSC6MlMjyDU/s320/IMG_1829.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-28991057485642588962011-06-20T19:08:00.001-04:002011-06-20T19:11:50.268-04:00Good MemoriesWe just came back from vacation. It was wonderful. Our June memories will now consist of sad ones, but also happy ones. Happy ones borne of nearly two years of working through the grief, pain, sadness, myriads of feelings, and "sorting outs". It was a time to enjoy our life together as the family that the Lord has for us in the present moment.<br />
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The past two months or so have brought about healing that is washing over in welcome waves. So very welcome.<br />
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No one wants to be stuck in grief. But I've realized that there isn't much one can do to make it heal any faster. It's different for each person, each circumstance. We aren't fixed. We are certainly different people than we were a couple years ago. There will still be grief. I still miss the children and their little smiles. But I have much more peace now. The negative emotions are fading.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qQwUGxmoVOY/Tf_TiHAkPdI/AAAAAAAAAY4/verMKS7ergY/s1600/IMG_1681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qQwUGxmoVOY/Tf_TiHAkPdI/AAAAAAAAAY4/verMKS7ergY/s320/IMG_1681.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Oh how welcome it is.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-70794619029184859942011-04-24T19:23:00.000-04:002011-04-24T19:23:40.113-04:00"Did I really say that?"I have been reflecting on my last post, and another one quite a while ago. Both of them make me go, "Did I really say that to the whole wide world?" And my immediate reaction is a flood of shame. The world is now aware of how deep my sin goes.<br />
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And upon further reflection, my decision is, that is a good thing.<br />
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It is good for me to see how deep my sin goes. Because then I can see my dire need for redemption, for grace, and for God's mercy to be given. I have discovered, that when I try to hide or modify others' perception of me in light of my sinfulness, I don't truly have a deep gratitude for the redemptive work Jesus has done. I do not have humility.<br />
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So if any of you reading this thought "Wow, that girl is a selfish whiner, " you're right. I am. The reference to the woman who lost her daughter was referring to someone I've never met (as if that makes it somehow "less" bad...it doesn't". Basically, I was struggling one day with how long our affliction has lasted. I longed to feel community with someone else who's struggled like we have, to see how someone else has handled the grief and stress and shame and guilt. And initially I thought I'd found it. And then when I read about the healing that came from them expecting another child, I kinda lost it.<br />
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I was really angry with God for not giving me what I want. The clay telling the potter what to make.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-80558216185818471182011-04-18T20:38:00.001-04:002011-04-18T20:40:26.758-04:00"5 Times" and "I need something good"I cried five separate times on Sunday. Not that it's a record for me, <i>by any means</i>. But it's out of the norm lately. Apparently life hasn't gotten the memo that after a traumatic experience and losing one's children, there's supposed to be a healing calm. Oh no. That memo missed his inbox entirely.<br />
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I went back to the psychologist a week ago. Over the past few months, I've realized that I'm able to integrate the story of the children into our life much more healthily, but other things have creeped in as a result of the constant stress of the past two years. While the Dr. is booked for a while, he did give me homework.<br />
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Gosh darn it. When will this strenuous mental processing end??? Huh?? Ever?? It's wearing me down.<br />
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We desperately long for something good. It's hard watching it come to others sometimes. That's the honest truth. To read someone's words of how a second child has filled their heart, been so healing, after the loss of their toddler. And I cry out inside, "Why can't that be for us?"<br />
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The intense sadness that used to be is now replaced by intense frustration and anger. The battle of feeling like we're "owed" something is never ending. Like we've put in our suffering chips and now should get something back for them. That isn't how God's kingdom works.<br />
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But how I long for something good. I long for it in my job. S longs for it in his job. In the expanding of our family. I want to feel a breath of fresh air. Like a new start. Something in life that matches this "new me" that is now me. But then I get scared and think hurt will bombard us like it did before.<br />
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Trusting God is hard. Really, really hard. I'm glad we have the story of the disciples. They got it wrong so much. But Jesus drew them in, even then.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-37253904409283886682011-04-15T21:52:00.001-04:002011-04-18T20:49:39.215-04:00Sweet MemoryDriving home from work today, "The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing" came on my 40's station on XM. (Love that channel!) I happily hummed its winsome tune all evening. As I thought about it more and more, and recalled dancing with my sweetheart at one wedding we attended in particular, I had to agree.<br />
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Later on, I had another memory. Instead of a freshly glossed dance floor in the banquet room of the football stadium, it was a wooden floored room crowed with six people. A little girl was singing "Baila! Baila!" while jumping on the bed and begging me to swirl her around in the air, dancing to my made up waltz.<br />
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I couldn't get my breath, was lightheaded from the altitude, sick with a cold, and very nearly wanted to faint. But my daughter wanted me to dance with her. And so I did. And I will treasure it forever.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-5599560498111047502011-04-06T08:28:00.002-04:002011-04-06T10:53:46.703-04:00FinalityI'm trying to write this, and i don't really know what to say. As is usual when I sit down to write. My mind keeps me awake at night trying to sort through all the thoughts of the day, and then accumulation from the week. It's like my brain is taking a pile of disheveled papers and is trying to sort them into the right file folder, all the while carefully creasing each file folder at just the right width for the papers it will hold, and making sure each tab is visible above the hanging file.<br />
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Ok, that makes me sound crazy.<br />
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The past week has had a few times when the finality of the adoption has shown itself. The first one was a dream I had where I was getting ready for work, and suddenly realized I didn't know where E was.<br />
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"Where is he? Where is E" I anxiously asked S. "Didn't you pick him up from daycare? What are they going to think of us leaving him there?"<br />
"I picked him up, but I don't know where he is," S replied.<br />
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And that's where it all stopped. We don't know where our "son" is or the other son, or the other son, or daughter. And never will. Ever. If they're healthy or not. If they're loved or not. If they're safe or not. We'll never know.<br />
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The next day we received the dossier in the mail. As I cried, I realized something. They didn't feel like "my" kids anymore.<br />
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And here is where I need the script for this. If I don't feel like they are mine anymore, it's as if the whole experience is going to just fade away, never to be remembered again. Will people forget their names when I mention them? What am I supposed to do? How do I do this?<br />
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Then my mind turned on me. Are some coping mechanisms you've been using now unhealthy? Things that you've held onto for the past year, or six months that you needed then, but need to release now?<br />
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No one ever told me about this. The books all say, "cry all you need," "don't let others tell you where you should be in your grief." But they don't mention that at some point the crutches that were healthy for you initally, would become hindrances. It may sound like common sense, but....<br />
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<u>Yesterday</u><br />
My sister, nina and I all went shopping yesterday. The second half of this story is a very young teenage girl that my sister is tutoring. She is pregnant. Sister and I are planning a baby shower for her. We went to get the invitations and then to the baby aisles at Walmart.<br />
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You see, we were at Walmart because of some very dear people. People who unknowingly have been a blessing to many. Just about 2 years ago, I was the recipient of two "kid showers". I was overcome with joy at impending motherhood, and overcome with gratitude for friends who were there with us to celebrate and to help us prepare.<br />
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When we returned home, I didn't think twice about the still unused gift-cards tucked away. It was probably a year later when i came across them. Believing that the right time would come, I just kept them there.<br />
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So when sister and I prepared to go to the store, I pulled them out. I looked lovingly at the "froms" and remembered how grateful we were to receive them. I put them in my purse.<br />
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We probably spent a good two hours in the baby section at Walmart. We headed to the register with our cart full of blue and white and green and brown. I pulled out my gift cards and one by one handed them over. Sister went home, I went home with nina.<br />
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We are going to shower this girl with love, love from countless people she'll never meet.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Jesus answered,</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> </i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>"The most important is, 'Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.</i></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> </i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24696" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>30</i></span></sup></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.'</i></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> </i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><sup class="versenum" id="en-ESV-24697" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: text-top;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>31</i></span></sup></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"><span class="woj"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> The second is this: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no other commandment greater than these."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Mark 12: 29-31</i></span>Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-35616670630407540812011-03-29T17:25:00.000-04:002011-03-29T17:25:40.125-04:00Our Dossier Was ReturnedAfter getting off the phone with my sister, talking about H and how a student at school makes me face unmotherhood everyday because I had her in 4th grade and had this <a href="http://rejoicewithjoy.blogspot.com/2009/04/dairy-queen.html">post</a> about her two years ago, I walk up to the door and see a large address with CHI's return address.<br />
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As has always been the case when getting an envelope from CHI, my heart began to do somersaults.<br />
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And then I opened it up. Our dossier had been returned from Colombia.<br />
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All those papers, carefully gathered and regathered and regathered with love, the epitome of being an expectant parent, staring me in the face, mocking my pain. Causing tears, creating emotional chaos, anger.<br />
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If I was a swearing person, this would be the appropriate time.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49730051277340444.post-51901570548819186722011-03-19T16:33:00.000-04:002011-03-19T16:33:08.426-04:00Another DreamI had another dream the other day. This time it wasn't about the kids per say. In this one, we were going back to Col to adopt, but whether it was the same kids, or not is pretty hazy.<br />
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I don't do much with dreams considering my whole life I've had crazy ones, scary ones, and most of them I remember, and none of them have ever made sense...ever.<br />
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But it does make me quite melancholy the morning after one about the kids, or about Col.Angehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15349617255050954965noreply@blogger.com0