Welcome Home.

I honestly can't believe that I have the amazing privilege to write this welcome home/adoption post, for the third time. It's pretty crazy for me to personally think about. I just never imagined this is how my story would go -- a mother to five children.  

I'm so glad God does not leave the story of our lives up to us and our own creativity and imagination -- His so much better, so much cooler.

This weekend we welcomed home our fifth child to be. This little one is so very amazing. She has had a very difficult start but the potential that Adam and I see in her far outweighs her past and present challenges. This whole adoption thing is really breath taking. I'm not sure if I could ever fully explain the feeling -- being chosen, divinely brought together and given the opportunity to be mommie, not replacing the mother who choose life for their children, but a second mother to love and walk beside and behind these beautiful children.

So amazing.

This process might look a little different in some ways. All our adoptions were a process. It takes at least six month to finalize a domestic adoption through the child welfare system and this one could take a little longer, but maybe not. Because of that I don't feel totally comfortable giving all the details. After all, the details don't really matter right? I find that so much of our social media driven culture craves drama and details, sometimes we lose sight of the happy side of life, the victories and hope shining through.

Adam and I are so excited to start this next season in life. We once again will be searching for our beautiful new normal and learning to settle into our exciting new chapter.

Welcome home sweet baby girl!

Love wins

I remember the months after Gavin died feeling such immense knock you off your feet kind of pain.  It would sneak up out of nowhere, many times during a drive in the car and other times where life was still.  At some point I was able to come to the conclusion that although I hurt so deeply it was simply ok.  It’s was ok because the hurt came from love.  My tears and anguish were an outward sign of just how deep, my love for my little boy was.

As we have been walking through these weeks, as we transition our new little girl home, these same thoughts have been playing through my mind.  Don’t ever let me fool you.  Adoption is difficult.  It is hard work.  It requires sacrifice and it often brings a little pain.

But here is what God keeps bringing to my mind: With great love comes big risk and with risk comes a chance of pain, but in the end LOVE always wins.

  

I keep repeating this to my self over and over, trying to get my anxious heart to settle into this truth.

We met our sweet baby girl a few weeks ago and she has been spending a few days on and off with us in our home as we transition her into our lives and into our family.  As with our other two adoptions, the moment I laid my eyes on her my heart filled with just a deep love for this child. Once she is home I can’t wait to share more about her, for now you’ll just have to take my word for it!

 

This time around it is just different, maybe because we are working with different workers or maybe just because we know the system well, but this time it has just been hard.  The back and forth.  The half way in, half way out of our lives.  It’s difficult.   We see amazing potential and are so eager to help this little one thrive, yet we also have the understanding that these things take time and that there is a process.

It’s so hard to put love and attachment into a process, into a system.

My heart rests in the fact that He has gone before us.  That we don’t really matter -- this doesn’t need to fall within the perfect plans we made in our own minds, but it has already been planned out. We simply need to trust Him.

Adoption is just a beautiful image of God’s love for us.  His sacrifice -- His longing -- His wait for us to come home to Him.  I'm resting in his deep love for me and His comfort as we walk through the process.

With great love comes big risk and with risk, there is a chance of pain, but in the end LOVE always wins.

Yes!

Love always wins.

Preparing.

I had a very difficult first pregnancy with Madison. I was put on strict bed rest from around eighteen week on. Anytime I would move, my blood pressure would soar leaving me with spotty vision and bad headaches, not to mention I was contracting for months before she was born.  I remember wanting so badly to prepare for her arrival. We lived in a tiny one bedroom apartment and I remember giving Adam directions from my bed, little did he know that I would sneak out of bed everyday after he left and did things just the way I wanted.

A few days before I had an emergency induction I remember getting out of bed, against doctors orders, and washing all her tiny clothes and opening a fresh pack of newborn diapers. I arranged them all so neatly and purposefully in the top drawer of her dresser which sat right next to my bed.

It's crazy how women often simply know when it's time. Even though I didn't go into labor naturally, I totally believe that my mother instinct told me it was time to prepare for my first baby girl.

Adoption is really no different. There is a time to prepare, but many times the desire to prepare physically, things like clothes and furniture, gets pushed aside for the practical need to prepare your heart.

I wouldn't lie and say it's easy -- It's so very hard. The process of getting from point a to point b in the process of adoption can be painful, but I can however, say with full confidence, that it is totally worth it all. Every last bit of frustration and every last deep breath in, longing for the day in court when you listen as the judge proclaims the child you very own.

With adoption comes the need for a little extra faith in God. I didn't get the chance to carry in my womb Angela, Jayden and our new little one and because of that I didn't have the physical feeling to hold on to. With Madison and Gavin I remember resting my hands on my growing belly for comfort -- my belly told me it was coming, that I would see them soon. With adoption only faith and trust in God and in his plans for my family can give me the comfort my mommie heart and soul desires.

Things are moving forward with bringing home our new little one. We met with the county worker late last week and she seemed eager to move forward and didn't feel a need for a long transition home. However, these details are left up to our agency and you just never know what different people would like to see happen.

For now we are just trusting in God's perfect timing and an extra dose of patience as we wait and prepare.

A Passion.

Life is so boring when you don't have a God given passion. I'm talking about something that fuels your every move. It's one thing to have your own personal passions, there's nothing wrong with that, but I'm talking about a Holy passion, a reason you were put on this earth -- a mission only you can accomplish.

The biggest difference between a personal passion and a God given passion is that your personal passions will come and go but a God given passion is in your DNA and while you may not discover it for many years it has always and will always be a part of what makes you -- you.

I have found my passion.

After Gavin's death God began to give Adam and I a glimpse into his heart for adoption. Once our eyes were opened there was no turning back. I remember a time when the thought of adoption came up but was quickly tossed aside as we automatically thought it could never work for us. Funny thing is -- God loves to prove us wrong.

I can't exactly put my finger on my exact passion. It's wrapped around adoption but yet it has nothing to do with rescuing children, after all we don't rescue children -- we love them -- because we ourselves received the ultimate rescue.

Maybe my passion can be defined as hearing the heart beat of God.  His heart breaks for so many things that linger in this side of eternity.  For whatever reason we seem to hear His cry for the orphans much louder than most or maybe He's just speaking louder into our hearts and lives.  Either way, we love adoption.

It makes me so excited to tell you all that we have been match with a beautiful little girl. These past five months have been an up an down ride but I think we are reaching a place where we can share,  at least a small bit, of what is happening in our world.

This process of going to look a little different than our last two adoptions. There are so many details that even we do not yet know. What I do know is this -- we have prayed for this child even before we knew of her existence and we fully trust in His perfect plan and perfect timing as we transition this little one home.

We would love your prayers as her team and our team of social services workers will be coming out to our home this Thursday. We are hoping that we will be able to meet her soon after.

God is so amazing. His timing is so perfect. We have prayed and trusted that our reservation will soon be called and here we are. 

We are excited to have you once again come along for the ride -- the best is yet to come!

Easter Thoughts.

After the death of our son, like most grieving individuals, I quickly learned in the first year which holidays would be difficult for me. Surprisingly the ones which I had assumed would be difficult we're surprisingly easy to cope with.

For me the most difficult days are Gavin's birthday and Mother's Day. I dread these days.  For me they pass by and leave behind a cruel reminder -- he is gone, a part of what defines me as a mother is gone.

There are two dates which, though are difficult in their own way, for some reason give me a reason to smile and hold on to hope.

The first of those dates is the anniversary of his death. The week prior is so very difficult but the day of his death is a reminder and memory of healing and although it marked the end of his physical life it also pushed into motion the beginning of his strong legacy.

The second of those dates is this week-- Easter week. Without Easter I have nothing. Without His death and resurrection, the hope that I hold on to with ever fiber of my being would come completely unraveled.

I love visiting Gavin's grave on Easter. It's a powerful moment where my faith and my reality collide -- it's a moment of pure hope in its rawest form where I can boldly proclaim that this is not the end, that my sons death, because of Jesus, has lost its horrific sting.

To thank Him for His sacrifice seems small and insignificant, that's why we live like we do. I want every second I'm here on earth to honor Him and His sacrifice, and I long, in my small human way, to love Him as much as He loves me.