Note: This post has been revised and postponed numerous times because being open about lapses in faith and admitting to incorrect beliefs is embarrassing to a lifelong Christian. But, part of the reason I did this series was for this very post, so please be understanding as you read the following.
I have been a Christian all of my life. I can't remember a time when I wasn't aware and accepting of God's grace in my life. Faith has always played an important roll in my life. Christ has always been a part of my day.
My life was pretty calm. I never experienced a major illness or trauma that would shake my faith. While I am incredibly grateful to have had the carefree faith of someone whose life was stable for the most part, I admit that because my faith wasn't tested I developed some untrue beliefs. Nothing earth shattering or so terribly wrong that I would question my faith, but little secondary beliefs that I didn't really realize I had until they were exposed under pressure.
1. I believed that everything eventually turned out the way I wanted. To be quite honest, most of my life through my mid twenties, everything pretty much happened the way I wanted it to eventually. Sometimes the timing would be a bit off or one experience or another would deviate from the picture I had in my head, but typically things worked out. When I wanted something I worked hard towards it and it typically happened. Through parents who supported me in music to finding my soul mate at 14, I really never questioned that things would work out for me eventually.
Because of this, when we started to get serious about having children, I expected God to respond. When He didn't, I made excuses for Him. He was waiting so we would have a spring baby like I always wanted. He was waiting until my friends became pregnant so there wouldn't be a strain on our relationship. He was waiting until certain stars aligned. There wasn't anything really permanently wrong, it was just His timing.
2. I believed there was nothing wrong because we did what was right. Jim and I were "good kids" who waited until we were married. While there are blessings by making this choice in our lives for sure, there was some unwritten rule in my mind that because we had obeyed, we would be "shoe ins" for fertility. Because we waited when we were supposed to, when we were ready to have kids we simply would. For most of my life, until just the past few years through meeting many couples who have struggled with infertility, I just assumed that people got married and had kids.
While we had talked about adoption even in our dating days, it being our only option never crossed my mind.
3. When I finally realized that God wasn't directing our lives down that path, another belief I have secretly held on to surfaced. If you are sincere enough, desperate enough, God will answer your prayers. After all, those are the stories you hear the most. Even in the Bible (read how Samuel came to be) we read again and again of people who fall to their knees in complete despair and God grants them a desire of their heart. So I fasted. I prayed out loud, standing in my closet. There were times I would find myself crying so hard I didn't have tears left, so I would be simply gasping for air, hugging my knees in the corner. I was desperate, I was sincere. I would have done anything. But God was still silent.
These were all beliefs that I knew weren't correct. I knew God didn't just grant you what you wanted, even if you were a "good person" or if you were "sincere" enough. But because of the examples I had in my own life, these beliefs were in the back of mind, sometimes giving me hope and other times blinding me from the truth.
The truth was that God does all things for the good of His people. The truth is that God is all knowing and I am not. The truth is that God has his hand on every thread in the tapestry that is this world and he weaves them all together at just the right time. The truth is God had Josiah in mind for us.
Instead of giving me the little girl I always imagined, instead of surrounding me with the army of help I thought I would want the first few weeks of my child's life, instead of giving me what I desperately begged Him for, He said "wait, I have something better".
He gave us a heart for adoption, he gave us a heart for birth mothers and he provided us with a son. He provided us two weeks of bonding with him in some of the scariest circumstances so that when we got home we would be confident. He gave us a son whose birth mother is someone we care deeply for. Even small things I wouldn't have thought of were provided for us. And this kid is way cuter than what we could have come up with.
God doesn't always answer all of our prayers with a yes or a miracle. I learned a lot through our time of waiting. I recognized these silly beliefs that weren't true. My heart opened more, my life forever changed. While I would never wish a trial on anyone... if you are reading this and going through something that makes you feel desperate or that God isn't answering... I hope you will wait, and I hope He will show up His plans are better. Because God is good.
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Friday, October 21, 2016
Post Adoption Mini Series-- Part 2; One Of Two Mothers
When we first started the adoption process, I never thought I would love the birth mother of my child as much as I do.
I would read adoption related blogs and articles and cry (I have done a lot of crying the past few years, as you can tell) because people would point out how horrible adoption is because children were "ripped away", women were "coerced", lives ruined because "biology is best" and babies shouldn't be handed to "baby snatchers" or "privileged white people who just want the perfect baby". There was a part of me that really took these things to heart and made me feel guilty for wanting to raise a child from their first day on earth and that, too, contributed to my secret wish that a future birth mother would slowly disappear, because maybe the guilt would subside. I have written about the reason we chose infant adoption before, so I won't go into it, but even though the main reason we feel called here is we feel there needs to be someone willing to give a good life, love and family to a kid from day one when they can't get that from their biological family.
But I can tell you that I love her. I did not expect it. I'm grateful for it. And I can say confidently now that the selfish desire to be his one and only mother is no longer in my heart. I hope she is a part of his story from this point on, for his sake, for her sake, and for mine. I look forward to our future with her as a part of our family.
I knew I would care for her. I recognized that the decision she was making was one of the most difficult decisions she would ever make. Before we were chosen, I grieved for the woman who would birth the baby I would raise. While I often cried because the wait was hard and long, while I sometimes felt the pain of realizing that pregnancy wasn't something I would experience, I cried frequently for her as well. We were concerned for her well being during and after the pregnancy. We made sure that the agency we chose would have scholarship opportunities as well as offer counseling and post birth support.
But if I'm being completely honest, I shamefully admit that somewhere in the deep corners of my selfish soul, I hoped that she, whoever she was, would eventually disappear. Having to share the title of mother with anyone else didn't feel fair-- just because someone could birth their own child they got that right but I didn't because my body had failed. Secretly, I hoped that she would provide medical and family history and then slowly disappear.
I would read adoption related blogs and articles and cry (I have done a lot of crying the past few years, as you can tell) because people would point out how horrible adoption is because children were "ripped away", women were "coerced", lives ruined because "biology is best" and babies shouldn't be handed to "baby snatchers" or "privileged white people who just want the perfect baby". There was a part of me that really took these things to heart and made me feel guilty for wanting to raise a child from their first day on earth and that, too, contributed to my secret wish that a future birth mother would slowly disappear, because maybe the guilt would subside. I have written about the reason we chose infant adoption before, so I won't go into it, but even though the main reason we feel called here is we feel there needs to be someone willing to give a good life, love and family to a kid from day one when they can't get that from their biological family.
But then I heard her voice. I saw her face. I met the woman who would one day tell me to go to my son just moments after she delivered him. She was beautiful, strong, decisive. She admitted at one point that she considered changing her mind, worried she would never see him again, but stayed strong because she trusted us and loved him. I'm forever grateful for her decision-- because of her my life is changed forever and in the most beautiful way.
I had no idea before we were chosen how attached I would become to the mother of my son. I had no idea how I would think of her daily. How when Josiah raises his eyebrows just like she does or his big brown eyes (that look just like hers) would look at me at just the right moment she would pop into my head. I didn't know that I would wonder what she was doing, how she was feeling, where she was at. I didn't know that if I didn't hear from her for a few days I would start to worry. I never thought I would feel fiercely protective of her, not wanting others to think poorly of her but still understand that she made the right choice.
I won't tell you that the woman who gave birth to my son is a saint. She lives a difficult and tumultuous life, often making choices that aren't morally acceptable or healthy. I am grateful that Josiah isn't growing up in that environment because it's unpredictable and scary and though she had love, she was not in a place to provide care.
I can't compare it to any other relationship really, because there is none to compare it to. She gave me the gift of parenthood by entrusting us with caring for her son. He is now my son because she allowed it to be. She did this for reasons that were lovely and reasons that aren't so lovely.
I had no idea before we were chosen how attached I would become to the mother of my son. I had no idea how I would think of her daily. How when Josiah raises his eyebrows just like she does or his big brown eyes (that look just like hers) would look at me at just the right moment she would pop into my head. I didn't know that I would wonder what she was doing, how she was feeling, where she was at. I didn't know that if I didn't hear from her for a few days I would start to worry. I never thought I would feel fiercely protective of her, not wanting others to think poorly of her but still understand that she made the right choice.
I won't tell you that the woman who gave birth to my son is a saint. She lives a difficult and tumultuous life, often making choices that aren't morally acceptable or healthy. I am grateful that Josiah isn't growing up in that environment because it's unpredictable and scary and though she had love, she was not in a place to provide care.
I can't compare it to any other relationship really, because there is none to compare it to. She gave me the gift of parenthood by entrusting us with caring for her son. He is now my son because she allowed it to be. She did this for reasons that were lovely and reasons that aren't so lovely.
But I can tell you that I love her. I did not expect it. I'm grateful for it. And I can say confidently now that the selfish desire to be his one and only mother is no longer in my heart. I hope she is a part of his story from this point on, for his sake, for her sake, and for mine. I look forward to our future with her as a part of our family.
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
A Post Adoption Mini Series-- Post 1: Schedule
For the past few weeks I have been working on a post about all of the changes that have happened in my life since we started the adoption process a few years ago. From my beliefs to my schedule, almost nothing in my life has remained completely the same. I have been reflecting on these changes a lot as I watch Josiah change from day to day, and how I seem to be changing as much as he is.
However, with as many changes as I have noticed and being restricted to only writing at nap times, the post got longer and longer and more confusing. So I decided to write a little mini series.
I thought I would start with perhaps the most obvious change and the one I would guess many women can relate to-- the change in schedule.
Until about three days in at my job at the music store, I firmly believed that I would someday be a stay at home mother. My mother, aunts and mother-in-law were all (for the most part) stay at home mothers and I simply thought I would follow suit. Not having any lofty (or any at all, to be honest) career goals, it was the obvious future.
Then I loved the music store. I love what I do here, I love the connections I've made through being here, I love the opportunities that I have because of this store. I love making window displays, I love meeting band directors, I love that I joined the arts council board, created a jazz band and started solo night because I work here. Even though I'm only a part time bookkeeper, I feel like I'm making a difference here and it's where I should be.
I wasn't sure how I would feel after becoming a mom. Since I loved my job I assumed I would come back at the normal schedule. At two and a half weeks old, Josiah came with me for an hour because I couldn't just sit in the house anymore and I did an hour of book work at the shop.
Yet...
Maybe this will sound ridiculous to those full time working mothers, or those people I know who have twelve jobs, five clubs and coach soccer, but even at just three days a week here, I started to feel overwhelmed. Torn in two. When I was at home all the time I wanted to be back in the world but now that I'm back all I want is to be home. I felt like I wasn't my best at home or elsewhere. I felt like things were slipping through the cracks that I used to be so on top of. I was stressing out all the time and felt like such a failure every single day.
Thanks to a conversation and well timed post by a friend, I finally decided enough was enough and I needed to make a change. I prayed about what to change and how, I talked to my husband (who knew how stressed I had become because, unfortunately, he was the one standing beside me when my lid would pop off so he got most of my steam) and decided to cut back.
I decided to resign from the arts council board, drop out of the jazz band, make major restrictions to when I give lessons and the hardest decision-- I asked my boss to let me drop down to two days a week.
As someone who has always tried to have a simple, minimal life, I realized I was too involved for where I'm at right now. I'm a huge believer in being involved to improve the community, but I also saw how quickly Josiah is growing. I fought long and hard for that kid and I don't want to waste time being away from him.
I just recently made these changes and this is musical week so I'm busier than ever until next Monday night, but I feel good about them. I feel as though I have made the best decisions for my family and I at this point.
I chose to eliminate those organizations that were causing me stress or that I felt I wasn't contributing enough too. I am proud to have been involved in them, but it was time for me to step aside and I feel a weight lifted that I didn't realize was so heavy until it was gone. I have felt like my schedule was a constantly shifting jig saw puzzle for months and it's nice to see fewer pieces.
I am so glad to have remained active in the groups that I have, and I'm grateful for the new schedule at the shop. I love having two days a week to get a bit of a break from being at home, letting grandma and grandson have some time to bond (and for Josiah to bond with someone other than me), and still feel like I'm contributing at the store and in the community. But I am also so glad to have that extra day off with no lessons, no meetings, no work, to simply be the mom of my little boy all day.
Maybe this proves that I can't handle a lot. Maybe it proves that I'm not as good at multitasking or as capable as I once thought. In any case, I am more at peace than I have been in months and I look forward to the end of musical season (don't get me wrong, I LOVE musical season, so I'm definitely enjoying it as well), and the cleaner schedule I will have then.
However, with as many changes as I have noticed and being restricted to only writing at nap times, the post got longer and longer and more confusing. So I decided to write a little mini series.
I thought I would start with perhaps the most obvious change and the one I would guess many women can relate to-- the change in schedule.
Until about three days in at my job at the music store, I firmly believed that I would someday be a stay at home mother. My mother, aunts and mother-in-law were all (for the most part) stay at home mothers and I simply thought I would follow suit. Not having any lofty (or any at all, to be honest) career goals, it was the obvious future.
Then I loved the music store. I love what I do here, I love the connections I've made through being here, I love the opportunities that I have because of this store. I love making window displays, I love meeting band directors, I love that I joined the arts council board, created a jazz band and started solo night because I work here. Even though I'm only a part time bookkeeper, I feel like I'm making a difference here and it's where I should be.
I wasn't sure how I would feel after becoming a mom. Since I loved my job I assumed I would come back at the normal schedule. At two and a half weeks old, Josiah came with me for an hour because I couldn't just sit in the house anymore and I did an hour of book work at the shop.
Yet...
Maybe this will sound ridiculous to those full time working mothers, or those people I know who have twelve jobs, five clubs and coach soccer, but even at just three days a week here, I started to feel overwhelmed. Torn in two. When I was at home all the time I wanted to be back in the world but now that I'm back all I want is to be home. I felt like I wasn't my best at home or elsewhere. I felt like things were slipping through the cracks that I used to be so on top of. I was stressing out all the time and felt like such a failure every single day.
Thanks to a conversation and well timed post by a friend, I finally decided enough was enough and I needed to make a change. I prayed about what to change and how, I talked to my husband (who knew how stressed I had become because, unfortunately, he was the one standing beside me when my lid would pop off so he got most of my steam) and decided to cut back.
I decided to resign from the arts council board, drop out of the jazz band, make major restrictions to when I give lessons and the hardest decision-- I asked my boss to let me drop down to two days a week.
As someone who has always tried to have a simple, minimal life, I realized I was too involved for where I'm at right now. I'm a huge believer in being involved to improve the community, but I also saw how quickly Josiah is growing. I fought long and hard for that kid and I don't want to waste time being away from him.
I just recently made these changes and this is musical week so I'm busier than ever until next Monday night, but I feel good about them. I feel as though I have made the best decisions for my family and I at this point.
I chose to eliminate those organizations that were causing me stress or that I felt I wasn't contributing enough too. I am proud to have been involved in them, but it was time for me to step aside and I feel a weight lifted that I didn't realize was so heavy until it was gone. I have felt like my schedule was a constantly shifting jig saw puzzle for months and it's nice to see fewer pieces.
I am so glad to have remained active in the groups that I have, and I'm grateful for the new schedule at the shop. I love having two days a week to get a bit of a break from being at home, letting grandma and grandson have some time to bond (and for Josiah to bond with someone other than me), and still feel like I'm contributing at the store and in the community. But I am also so glad to have that extra day off with no lessons, no meetings, no work, to simply be the mom of my little boy all day.
Maybe this proves that I can't handle a lot. Maybe it proves that I'm not as good at multitasking or as capable as I once thought. In any case, I am more at peace than I have been in months and I look forward to the end of musical season (don't get me wrong, I LOVE musical season, so I'm definitely enjoying it as well), and the cleaner schedule I will have then.
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