Tuesday, April 15, 2014

The Trenches.

I've struggled so much with blogging despite the fact that this is something that I love so very much.  I think about it all the time, trying to pin point the exact reason why I just can't seem to write.  I think I've finally figured it out.

We are in the trenches.

Walking through the death of our son Gavin was a horrific experience.  As a mother, I'm not sure there is a deeper pain one can possibly experience -- my own flesh and blood gone. Although four years have gone by the pain is still very real.  Not a day goes by that I don't long for just a glimpse of his sweet face.

With that said after his death Adam and I had an amazing epiphany -- this was our story -- what looked like an end was actually just the beginning of something amazing. Through tears and pain we saw hope, hope that our little boy left us behind.  Then started our journey to adoption -- and the first few years we still were kinda on that epiphany high.

Four years later and we are now in the trenches.

Don't misunderstand what I'm saying -- this isn't a bad thing, rather it's really an amazing place to be.  We have made the sacrifice we felt we were called to make and now we get to care for these amazing kids.  I wouldn't have it any other way.  But being in the trenches mean that some of the frill is also scarified.  The luxury of taking photos on a daily basis, and blogging about our daily life gets pushed to the side.

And that's ok.  

But today I was somehow able to have some beautiful sacred time to write.  Ahh.  It's feels great.

Have I ever told you how difficult the system from which we adopt our kids, is to work with?  It's so very difficult.  Before adoption is finalized you literally give up your life and become an open museum for people to frequently visit and browse.  It's really tough  What is even more difficult is seeing kids, who so desperately need homes, and a system who tries to keep the child's best interest in mind -- keeps kids from actually ever finding a home. Again, so difficult.

In my last post I had mentioned that Adam and I were matched for our last adoption -- a beautiful little girl.  Well, after five months waiting to meet her, the county she is in changed their minds.  Ugh. They gave us all kinds of reasons, and none of them really make sense.  Our hearts were and still are broken.  Once you see the face of a child it's hard not to immediately attach and start dreaming of what life could be like.  We have moved on and are continuing to match for another child, but this little girl will always have a place in our hearts and dreams.  No child should have to live life in a nursing home -- just typing those words just makes my soul cringe.

Living in the trenches means that a lot is sacrificed.  We daily need to put ourselves in check -- it's not about us.  It's not about what we want or what we think is best.  It's all about being Him -- His hands, His feet and trying desperately to show a fraction of His love to the world.


kathie migliaccio said...

We have adopted 33 special needs children over he years. We have never lost a birth child ...numbering 7....but We lost 9 children with special needs to the Lord. I guess sepia needs children make better angels. Our youngest child to go home to the Lord was 13 months old. I rocked her for 3 1/2 hours and she looked at me, smiled at me and died in my arms. My oldest child to go home to the Lord was a month shy of her 47th birthday. There were several family members around her hospital bed holding her hand. It doesn't get easy.+

Chelsea Nicole said...

You have such a beautiful family, and both you and your husband have such wonderful, big hearts. I am a school psychologist in Arizona and I love that you are pushing for inclusion for your little ones. It's an amazing thing what it can do for them! Don't ever let them tell you otherwise.


Michele said...

Thank you for continuing to share your story - even while in the trenches. Your family inspires so many and is a blessing and a roadmap of sorts on how to live and adopt and be better in this world. Thank you. Happy Easter!