Tuesday, August 02, 2011


This Friday, my life will be turned upside down, inside out and sideways-all in a good way.

God has given us the grace and strength to add to our family, and we are in the process of adopting a 14 year old girl.

My life, as I know it, is over and I will be the mother of two at week's end. I am excited, scared, nervous, and a whole amalgam of emotions.
I am sure she is feeling the same.

I am terrified over the whole thing. I have heard from a lot of experts that this will be a difficult journey. The experts tell me, over and over, that this will never work. That I know nothing of teenagers, that they are horrible creatures. The experts also tell me the failure rate for permenant placement (a euphemism for adoption) with older kids is extremely high.
These experts, obviously, do not know me.

I have 26 years of experience working with kids and teens in church. I started in the nursery at church when I was 15 and would take the bus to church. I then quickly moved onto teaching Sunday School. I worked with the little ones for years, and then moved up to the Middle Schoolers and High Schoolers. I am a certified youth minister, and have experience in counseling. I am currently the Youth Director of my church, guiding children from preschool to college in their faith.
I know kids.
I love kids.
There is an irony here, that I love children, yet was unable to have my own.
God has a plan, and that plan will be revealed in due time.
I know that He urged me to mother other people's children, either on a temporary basis as a foster parent or on a permenant basis as an adoptive mother.

Despite all the blessings my CHILDREN (plural) have brought me, there is still a piece of me that is incredibly sad that I was not able to have kids of my own. To say that they have the Big Man's eyes or my nose or whatever. We did not pass on ourselves to our children. It has been a huge blow to my self esteem, and I don't think anyone can understand it unless they have dealt with infertility themselves. I could not do the one thing women are supposed to do; that so many people who should never be mothers find themselves doing quite regularly. I have spent a lot of time in prayer, asking for this blockage to be removed from my life, but so far its still there. As time goes by, there is a lessening resentment, and more hope that others can understand more, but it still hurts.
There are also a lot of what if's that still creep up: what if I had gotten married sooner, what if we had started trying sooner, what if what if what if.
It can drive you mad.

Some people think that I need to get over all of the infertility stuff. Some people don't know how truly painful it is. It is all in God's time that I muddle through it all. Its like that line in the Godfather, just when I think I'm out, they pull me back in. Just when I think I'm healed, I realize how broken I truly am.

I do know that a lot of people do not understand the sadness that underlines dealing with infertility. There are a lot of people who I thought would have been more supportive of our struggle who were not. As time has gone on, I have slowly eliminated them from my life. I am sorry but if you weren't there to give me a hand out of the pit, I don't have the time for you and your advice now.

I also don't have time for those who are not supportive of my family. If you are going to tell me that this isn't going to work, who have already labeled my daughter as a failure or damaged goods, I am sorry but you have no place in our lives. You are either all in, or you are not. The experts also are counting on us saying no thank you when the going gets tough.

Would you give up on your own child if they had issues? Some people do, but then again I am not some people.
If it weren't for some people giving up, I would not be a mother, which is what I always wanted to be in my life, next to being a wife.

In the meantime, during this journey, some weekly features are on hold-both working it out weekend and heavens to etsy will return soon.
Prayers and warm fuzzies are appreciated.

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