And then came hope

On Tuesday I received a phone call from our adoption agency... we've been matched with a new birth mom. I'm not sure why I hesitated for several days before posting this news on the blog. I supposed because I wasn't ready to believe it myself just yet. We called a few family and friends that first night, but that was all. I had to laugh because when we told most people their reaction was very much like mine was when I heard. It was something like, "Oh... okaaaaaay....." in a very unsure tone. It was like people weren't sure how we wanted them to react. I get that, and I actually appreciated it more than a jumping-for-joy reaction. Like us, our friends and family simply don't want us to get hurt again, and we love them for that.

So here's what we know...

The birth mom's name is Felicia and she lives right here in Sacramento (a plus for us b/c it saves us a significant amount of money in travel & out-of-state legal costs). She's 21 yrs. old. She is half caucasian and half African-American. This is her third baby. She gave up the first baby for adoption four years ago, her second is her 1yr. old son whom she kept. Her previous pregnancies had no complications. She does not smoke or drink alcohol. She is currently living with some friends, receiving financial & medical assistance from a government program (enough to sustain her so that she doesn't need additional help from us). She is also attending a local career college, pursuing a degree in Criminal Justice. She wants to be a parole officer, turn her life in the opposite direction of her family.

The baby's father is 19 yrs. old. He and Felicia are still friends, but no longer in a dating relationship. He is also the father of their 1yr. old son. He is half African-American and half hispanic. He has already agreed to relinquish his paternal rights to this new child.

We've spoken to her on the phone a couple times since we were matched last Tuesday. She seems a little rough around the edges, but overall a likable person. We will meet her face-to-face tomorrow when we go with her to a sonogram appointment. We'll be finding out if the baby is a boy or girl! Her due date is August 6th, so she's about 18 weeks along at this point.

I'm unsure how to express all the mixed emotions Zach and I are feeling right now. This new match is already entirely different from our experience with Katerina. It's going to take some getting used to. Please continue praying us and for Felicia. I'll write again tomorrow after the doctor's appointment.

Maui, therapy and the point of prayer

It's been no secret that my struggle over the last three months has not subsided. Before our recent vacation to Maui I shared with Zach that all I could think about was the sadness that would be waiting for us right here when we got back. While our six day island getaway was incredibly relaxing and wonderful, just as I expected the sadness and loss hit me like a ton of bricks the minute I walked back in the door of our home. Being in Maui made me forget, if only for a little while, the constant ache I felt each day back home.

Zach expressed his concern that I might be slipping into a depression (something I struggled with several years ago and had hoped I would never struggle with again). I agreed with him. I know myself well enough to recognize when I'm becoming detached and stoic. I also know the spiritual battle I'm fighting is one I can't fight alone. I made an appointment with the same therapist I sought help from in years past. This week will be my second session with her. She gave me a small book called "Experiencing Grief" by H. Norman Wright. Already I have found so much comfort and reassurance in its pages. The author describes grief like this: "The harder I fought it, the more exhausted I became. So it is with grief. If I tried to fight it, it would vanquish me. If I pushed it down it would stick in my soul and emerge as something else: depression, bitterness, exhaustion. If I yielded to the waves and let it carry me, however, it would take me to a new place." I feel I am nearly to the point where I can resign to my grief and allow it to carry me, hopefully and prayerfully to a new and better place.

My therapist observed in our first meeting that perhaps I had become so consumed with my desire for a child that in fact I had made it my idol. My relationship with God had become more about what He had given and taken away, rather than simply about Him. Every single day I prayerfully surrender my hopes and dreams for a child, laying them at His feet. I've found that I can't just do it once and forever trust that He'll take care of them. Instead I need to give it up all over again at the beginning of each day. For me, trusting God seems more possible this way. I don't yet know how to trust Him with my entire future, but I can trust Him for today.

I've questioned the power (and even the point) of prayer a lot over the last few months. Do my prayers really change anything? I know God hears me, but does He change His plan in accordance with what I ask for? God will do what He wants to do, so why bother praying? I realize now my questions have been misguided. Prayer should never be about what God can do for me, whether He answers me with a "yes" or "no." Instead my prayers should simply be an act of surrender, a way of giving up whatever it is I want and trusting it to His care. Prayer is an act of worship and gratitude, a show of faith. "I've learned that any genuine communication to God may or may not change what God does, but your prayer will often change your heart or perspective. Prayer reminds you that you're not in control and keeps you close to the one who is." -Craig Groeschel, "The Christian Atheist"

In the Shadow of His Hand

A week or so ago Zach and I agreed we should find a book to read through together, preferably one that would help us through our circumstance. Before heading to the bookstore I decided to sift through the shelves and shelves of books we already owned to see if something struck my eye. I came across a book I read YEARS ago (as in at least 8+) called "The Shadow of His Hand" by Judith Couchman. I couldn't remember what I loved so much about the book that I felt it was worth keeping, but flipping through the pages I saw LOTS of underlining. The subtitle of the book is "When life disappoints, you can rest in God's comfort and grace." Exactly what we needed! I showed it to Zach and we decided to read through a little bit each night before we go to sleep.

Here just a few of the the things God's been telling us through Judith Couchman...

"Suddenly we don't understand much of anything because God didn't perform as we thought he would or should. We're hurt and afraid, confused and probably angry. Who knows what our wobbly selves might threaten to do? If Somebody up there still cares, he'd better reach through that cloud and clutch us with all his might. And that's exactly what God says he'll do." (p.11)

"...when we're hurt we should allow ourselves enough time to grieve in proportion to the event that stabbed us...Take time to feel the pain, but don't stay there forever. It's the way to eventually heal.." (p.15)

"Especially at first, settling under the Lord's hand can feel restricting and uncomfortable, but with time we learn to appreciate what he accomplishes in us as we reside there. If we allow God to lovingly work, we'll eventually emerge wiser, stronger, better. We'll look back and cherish the time spent in his shadow." (p.38)