No simple answers

Tonight something prompted me to write a new post after nearly 4 years of blog silence. I was thinking about a recent conversation with our daughter, Providence, on the eve of her "Gotchya Day," (the day we celebrate officially adopting her in court), and I found myself wanting desperately to write it down, so as not to forget how meaningful it was. Before I started writing I scrolled through my last few posts, written soon after the birth of our now 4 year old son. I became emotional at the memories it stirred up and I remembered why I kept this blog in the first place. It's been a beautiful outlet, a haven of sorts as my husband and I have traveled the hard roads of two different adoptions. Once those journeys ended, the writing stopped. I guess the blog didn't seem necessary anymore. But now, as my children age and conversations about their unique stories become more and more frequent, I'm realizing this journey is only just beginning.

It's funny how I practically forget that I'm not just a mom, but I'm an adoptive mom, which places me in an entirely different category than nearly all my fellow mom friends. I forget until one of my children asks me about their birth mom. Only then am I reminded that there are things I will never be able to give my children, gaps in their story I can't fill in, pieces of their history and their identity I can't reveal, try as I might.

In my most recent conversation with Providence, who is now nearly 8 years old, we covered a variety of questions regarding her adoption, including the purpose of legalizing an adoption and why we have birth certificates. Many of her questions were the same as they'd been in previous conversations, and my answers are always consistent. But this time she got more specific. She wanted to see her original birth certificate. She wanted to see what her birth mother's handwriting looked like. She wanted to know why her birth mother hadn't told her own parents about the pregnancy. She wanted to know how her birth mother didn't even know the name of her birth father. She wanted to know how she was like her birth mother, aside from just her physical appearance. I answered all of these questions with words I can only credit to the Holy Spirit. He swoops in every time these conversations happen and I'm so incredibly grateful.

Something had changed in Providence though. The information I was giving her was the same as any other time, but she responded with emotion, deep and genuine. She's always been so matter-of-fact about her story, so practical. But on this night, I saw deep disappointment in her face when I couldn't tell her anything about her birth father. And though we've talked about what she has in common with her birth mom, this time she lit up from the inside out when she saw all the similarities in personality they have. It's never seemed to matter to her more than it did that night.

Later she asked if Jacquelyn (her birth mother) has ever asked about her. This one was hard. The truth is, Jacquelyn's never asked for information or contact of any kind, even though we've left that door open to her. I would LOVE to to let Jacquelyn know how brilliant, beautiful, compassionate and artistic our daughter is. I assured Providence that her birth mother's silence is no indication of her love for her. I believe the reason her birth mother's never asked about her is because she trusts me and Zach so implicitly, and in her heart of hearts she knows Providence is healthy, happy, and thriving. We pray that even if we never get to tell her ourselves, God will assure her and give her peace that Providence is safe and well. But grown up emotions are so complicated and so hard to explain to a child. There are no simple answers.

Providence understands, truly and completely, why she was placed for adoption. She knows all about the heartache Zach and I endured as we waited through closed door after closed door to become parents. But on this night, her eyes filled with tears as it dawned on her what Jacquelyn went through. "It must have made her REALLY sad to give me away. I bet that was SO hard." The empathy level of my 7 year old had me in total awe. We both cried as we talked about the courage, bravery and profound love Jacquelyn had as she made the decision to give Providence a family, and how her heartbreak was simultaneously the biggest answered prayer Zach and I had ever received. Oh that every child could understand sacrificial love in the way my daughter does. I pray her adoption serves as a clear and beautiful example to her of Jesus' profound love for her and His children.

Finally, not for the first time, Providence asked me if Jacquelyn knows Jesus. I didn't know the answer to this, but I told her we pray if she doesn't know Him yet, that she'll come to know Him very soon. Again she became teary eyed as she said, "Oh Mommy, I really hope she knows Jesus."

In the end, we shared how grateful we both were that God placed Providence in our family, and that she is ours forever and ever. She doesn't question why she's ours and I pray she never does. The door for these conversations will always be open, and I'm glad she knows that too.

And the questions begin

We have always been very open with Providence about her adoption, and as she gets older we've added more to the story based on the questions she asks and what we think she's ready to understand. In the last year we've begun telling her a little bit about her birthmother (who we simply refer to as Miss Jacquelyn so as not to confuse P.J with the term "mother" or "mom"). Going through the adoption process for Justice was so helpful as P.J got to witness things firsthand and connect the dots to her own story. Since Justice's birth P.J has been asking much more detailed questions about Jacquelyn and her own adoption.

So last week as I was walking by P.J's room, nearly an hour after she'd gone to bed, I heard her say, "My friend at school said that having a baby in your belly is what makes you a mommy." I stopped and turned on my heels, took a deep breath, and sat at her bedside. God is so good and He comes through for me every time I get thrown these curveballs. I had to explain to my daughter that night that just having a baby in your belly is not what makes you a mommy. P.J had already begun asking me several times a week just how she got IN and then OUT of Jacquelyn's belly, so I knew it was on her mind, but I'd never had to explain that Jacquelyn wasn't really her "mommy," before. It was tough to explain, but I was able to help P.J understand that even though Jacquelyn carried her in her belly for 9 whole months, when P.J was born, Jacquelyn just wasn't ready to be a mommy, because she knew she couldn't give P.J everything a baby needed, and THAT is what a mommy does. So she asked ME to be P.J's mommy for her. We talked about all the ways that I'm P.J's mommy, even though I've never had a baby in my belly. It was a good conversation and I feel P.J had a good understanding of things when I left her room.

I came downstairs and began telling Zach about the conversation, and I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. It was the first time when I felt a little out of control. P.J was told something at school that wasn't necessarily untrue, but it is where P.J's story is concerned. She is different than nearly all of her friends in that she didn't grow in her Mommy's belly. An innocent conversation among preschoolers led to a lengthy conversation at home about how P.J came to be, and how it wasn't the same as her friends. At the age of 3 1/2, this is not a big deal. P.J knows her adoption is what makes her special and that God chose her to be our daughter. She knows she's the answer to years of prayers, and she knows without a doubt that WE are her Mommy & Daddy. She is not insecure about this in any way….yet. But it was hard for me to know that already, at her age, that what she's being told at home is being "challenged" by her friends at school. That she will be told things and asked things her whole young life by kids who just assume that she's a biological child like they are, and may not understand how beautiful and amazing her adoption story is.

That was just the beginning, because tonight, again as I was walking past her room way after her bedtime, P.J asked to see pictures of Jacquelyn. (We have several that we keep in the back of P.J's baby book, and she's seen them several times before.) I was tired and I wanted P.J to go to sleep, but I decided that I never want to decline when she asks about Jacquelyn or her adoption. I want her to know it's an open subject at all times and that she never has to worry about asking me anything. So I came in, turned her bedroom light on and grabbed her baby book from the closet. We spread Jacquelyn's pictures out on the bed and P.J fired question after question. I shared more about Jacquelyn with P.J tonight than I ever have. We talked about what Jacquelyn looked like, where she worked, what her hobbies were, and for the first time ever, P.J asked about the man that Jacquelyn made a baby with. It was hard for me to tell my daughter that we don't know anything about him, what he looks like, or his name. We talked about how God tells us that only a man and woman who are married should make a baby together, and why Jacquelyn wasn't married, and why Zach and I have never made a baby together even though we're married. We talked about how we found out about P.J and Jacquelyn and who took care of her until we got to the hospital. Every time I thought we were done, P.J would ask, "Mommy, can I ask you another question about Jacquelyn?"

Whew. It was a lot, but I'm confident in the answers I gave her because I felt the Lord providing me with words quickly and concisely, and I watched P.J's face light up and receive every word with assurance. Especially when I told her about the "happy tears" we cried when we met her for the first time because we'd been so sad and so brokenhearted for a long time, praying for God to bring us a baby. She asked me if we stopped praying once we got her, and she got the biggest grin on her face when I said, "No, we kept praying, but we prayed thanks to God for putting you in our family." But the best part (and also the most emotional part), was when I pulled P.J onto my lap and said, "Can I tell you one more thing about Jacquelyn? She was SO brave, and she loved you SO much. Do you know how I know that? Because she saw how beautiful you were and she made a hard choice. She chose to give you to a family who could take care of you. She knew it was better for you to have a Mommy and Daddy who would love you and take care of you forever. We thank God for Jacquelyn every day, because she gave us you."I've never seen my kid look more confident and loved than she did after hearing that.

So many emotions swirling in my heart tonight, but the main one is thankfulness…overwhelming thankfulness to the woman who handed over her role as "Mommy" to me and trusted me and Zach with the most beautiful little girl, the most courageous and selfless thing she will ever do. 

Dear Mom of an Adopted Child

I found this via a Facebook post last May and have been meaning to share it on our blog. I could have written it myself it's so perfectly worded. To those who've ever wondered how it's different for me to be an adoptive mom, please read. 

Dear Mom of an Adopted Child,

I met you in adoption education class. I met you at the agency. I met you at my son's school. I met you online. I met you on purpose. I met you by accident.

It doesn't matter. The thing is, I knew you right away. I recognize the fierce determination. The grit. The fight. Because everything about what you have was a decision, and nothing about what you have was easy. You are the kind of woman who Makes.Things.Happen. After all, you made this happen, this family you have.

Maybe you prayed for it. Maybe you had to convince a partner it was the right thing. Maybe you did it alone. Maybe people told you to just be happy with what you had before. Maybe someone told you it simply wasn't in God's plans for you to have a child, this child whose hair you now brush lightly from his face. Maybe someone warned you about what happened to their cousin's neighbor's friend. Maybe you ignored them.

Maybe you planned for it for years. Maybe an opportunity dropped into your lap. Maybe you depleted your life savings for it. Maybe it was not your first choice. But maybe it was.

Regardless, I know you. And I see how you hold on so tight. Sometimes too tight. Because that's what we do, isn't it?

I know about all those books you read back then. The ones everyone reads about sleep patterns and cloth versus disposable, yes -- but the extra ones, too. About dealing with attachment disorders, breast milk banks, babies born addicted to alcohol, cocaine, meth. About cognitive delays, language deficiencies. About counseling support services, tax and insurance issues, open adoption pros and cons, legal rights.

I know about the fingerprinting, the background checks, the credit reports, the interviews, the references. I know about the classes -- so many classes. I know the frustration of the never-ending paperwork. The hours of going over finances, of having garage sales and bake sales and whatever-it-takes sales to raise money to afford it all.

I know how you never lost sight of what you wanted.

I know about the match call, the soaring of everything inside you to cloud-height, even higher. And then the tucking of that away because, well, these things fall through, you know.

Maybe you told your mother, a few close friends. Maybe you shouted it to the world. Maybe you allowed yourself to decorate a baby's room, buy a car seat. Maybe you bought a soft blanket, just that one blanket, and held it to your cheek every night.

I know about your home visits. I know about your knuckles, cracked and bleeding from cleaning every square inch of your home the night before. I know about you burning the coffee cake and trying to fix your mascara before the social worker rang the doorbell.

And I know about the follow-up visits, when you hadn't slept in three weeks because the baby had colic. I know how you wanted so badly to show that you had it all together, even though you were back to working more-than-full-time, maybe without maternity leave, without the family and casseroles and welcome-home balloons and plants.

And I've seen you in foreign countries, strange lands, staying in dirty hotels, taking weeks away from work, struggling to understand what's being promised and what's not. Struggling to offer your love to a little one who is unsettled and afraid. Waiting, wishing, greeting, loving, flying, nesting, coming home.

I've seen you down the street at the hospital when a baby was born, trying to figure out where you belong in the scene that's emerging. I've seen your face as you hear a nurse whisper to the birthmother that she doesn't have to go through with this. I've seen you trying so hard to give this birthmother all of your respect and patience and compassion in those moments -- while you bite your lip and close your eyes, not knowing if she will change her mind, if this has all been a dream coming to an abrupt end in a sterile environment. Not knowing if this is your time. Not knowing so much.

I've seen you look down into a newborn infant's eyes, wondering if he's really yours, wondering if you can quiet your mind and good sense long enough to give yourself over completely.

And then, to have the child in your arms, at home, that first night. His little fingers curled around yours. His warm heart beating against yours.

I know that bliss. The perfect, guarded, hopeful bliss.

I also know about you on adoption day. The nerves that morning, the judge, the formality, the relief, the joy. The letting out of a breath maybe you didn't even know you were holding for months. Months.

I've seen you meet your child's birthparents and grandparents weeks or years down the road. I've seen you share your child with strangers who have his nose, his smile ... people who love him because he's one of them. I've seen you hold him in the evenings after those visits, when he's shaken and confused and really just wants a stuffed animal and to rest his head on your shoulder.

I've seen you worry when your child brings home a family tree project from school. Or a request to bring in photos of him and his dad, so that the class can compare traits that are passed down, like blue eyes or square chins. I know you worry, because you can protect your child from a lot of things -- but you can't protect him from being different in a world so intent on celebrating sameness.

I've seen you at the doctor's office, filling out medical histories, leaving blanks, question marks, hoping the little spaces don't turn into big problems later on.

I've seen you answer all of the tough questions, the questions that have to do with why, and love, and how much, and where, and who, and how come, mama? How come?

I've seen you wonder how you'll react the first time you hear the dreaded, "You're not my real mom." And I've seen you smile softly in the face of that question, remaining calm and loving, until you lock yourself in the bathroom and muffle your soft cries with the sound of the shower.

I've seen you cringe just a little when someone says your child is lucky to have you. Because you know with all your being that it is the other way around.

But most of all, I want you to know that I've seen you look into your child's eyes. And while you will never see a reflection of your own eyes there, you see something that's just as powerful: A reflection of your complete and unstoppable love for this person who grew in the midst of your tears and laughter -- and whose loss would be like the loss of yourself.

Legacy of an Adopted Child

A couple years ago I found this poem in a beautiful printed frame & I bought it for P.J's bedroom. Today, on Mother's Day, I find it especially touching as I think of the two women who brought my children into the world. I am forever grateful to them both. 

"Legacy of an Adopted Child"

Once there were two women who never knew each other,
One - you do not remember, the other you call mother.
Two different lives shaped to make yours,
One became your guiding star, the other became your sun.
The first gave you life, and the second taught you to live in it.
The first gave you a need for love and the second was there to give it.
One gave you a nationality; the other gave you a name.
One gave you the seed of talent; the other gave you an aim.
One gave you emotions; the other calmed your fears.
One saw your first sweet smile; the other dried your tears.
One gave you up - that's all she could do.
The other prayed for a child and God led her straight to you.
Now you ask through all your tears the age-old question through the years;
Heredity or environment - which are you a product of?
Neither, my darling - neither - just two different kinds of love.

 Author Unknown

and Justice makes four

It's difficult to know where to begin. Our journey up to this point has been moment-to-moment of emotional meltdowns, anxiety induced nausea,  tears of gratitude, sighs of relief, prayers for peace, courage under fire, utter frustration, very little sleep, and total amazement at the power of prayer. When all is said and done though, we are overjoyed to say we are at home together as a family of FOUR, with sweet Justice Grant in our arms and forever in our hearts.

Candice was admitted to the hospital last Thursday morning. Within a couple hours both Zach and I were walking into her room to introduce ourselves for the first time. The encounter was pleasant- Candice immediately set us at ease with her smile and sense of humor. We felt instantly comfortable with her. However, we'd had such anxiety leading up to our meeting her, so much for Zach that he had neglected to eat anything before heading to the hospital. The combination of no food, nerves, and a strong discomfort in hospitals, led to the inevitable… Zach passed out and fell to the floor in Candice's room. It was scary for me to watch, concerning for Candice, but ultimately became a great ice breaker and something we all laughed about for the next few days. :-)

Candice had a small handful of family and friends visiting her on and off. Once we knew her labor would likely take at least a full day or more, we weren't sure what our role would be or how much she'd want us around. As it turned out, Candice was more than happy to have one or both of us at her side at all times. For the next three days either Zach or I kept constant vigil in her room, and a unique, beautiful relationship was formed. We tried to keep things as "routine" for P.J as possible during our visits to the hospital, so I tried to be home with her during most of the day while Zach stayed with Candice, and then we'd switch so that Zach could sleep at home with P.J and I slept on the couch in Candice's room for the 2 nights she was in labor. Zach had authentic, trusting interactions with Candice, her dad, her grandma, and her friends. He was able to, as I say, "put on his Pastor hat" and engage with Candice in a genuine way that earned her trust. He learned so much about her and her family by simply putting in time. I pray he gave her a solid, Christ-like example of what a man should be, an example so evidently missing in her own life. While Zach built trust and relationships with Candice and her crew, my approach was more subtle. I chose to remain a quiet presence. When all her friends and family had left at the end of the day, she had no one to sit by her through the night. I didn't think it was right to leave her all alone, so I camped out in her room and was there to help her in and out of the bathroom, refresh her apple juice, turn up the tv, and tape down her iv's. It was an odd bonding experience, we two mothers, having only known each other for a day or two, sharing a room and an intimacy that seemed so unnatural, yet I wouldn't have had it any other way.

In all of the hours we clocked with Candice leading up to her delivery, we came to discover that neither she, nor her situation were quite as bleak as we had been led to believe. Candice was very mature, level-headed, and bright. She showed a great deal of regard for the baby's life, and voiced very openly her reasons for choosing adoption (she was product of foster care and didn't want the baby to have the life that she did). She had received more prenatal care than we were originally told and she had medical insurance too. The birth father, Eric, was indeed still in the picture, though just as a close friend, not a boyfriend. He even showed up at the hospital a couple of times to visit Candice, a blindside for us, but in the end we were glad to say we at least met him. He wasn't the most pleasant of personalities but he seemed to show great affection for Candice. He works the graveyard shift at a local gas station, but other than that we didn't learn much about him. He seemed a bit suspicious and uncomfortable with us. The feeling, quite honestly, was mutual.

Throughout those nearly three days of waiting around for Candice to give birth, I had several emotional breakdowns. A person can only handle so much internal turmoil. I struggled with leaving P.J so often without being able to fully explain to her why I was so distracted and emotionally fragile.
I called Jen at our adoption agency (my rock for all things adoption related for the last 5 years), and voiced my fears for the entire situation. I was especially fearful of being in the delivery room like Candice had asked, if for no other reason than I didn't want that memory burned in my brain if the baby didn't end up in my arms. She validated that yes, we indeed had every reason to stay guarded and fearful given our history, but she truly believed Candice had given no inclination of faltering on her decision, and the fact that she welcomed Zach and I stay with her 24/7 proved it. Jen said, "You need to give yourself permission to be excited, to be happy! I know it's terrifying, but you have to let yourself go there." I knew she was right.

After over 55 hours of labor Candice had finally dilated enough to begin pushing. She had asked for both Zach and me to be in the room for the delivery, but we determined it would be in Zach's best interest for him to wait in the hall. :-) I stayed, however, and if you know me at all you'll know this was a VERY big deal for me. I am squeamish about all things pregnancy related, and there's nothing I hate more than hearing someone's labor & delivery story. Pregnancy, I've always been convinced, just isn't for me. After spending nearly 3 days with a woman in labor, I can firmly report that my opinion on the matter hasn't changed in the slightest. The Lord is amazing though, and I believe He flipped a switch in me that made it possible for me to remain by Candice's side through it all without ever feeling physically ill, not even in the slightest. I sat by her head and cheered her on through every contraction, absolutely amazed at the strength and courage this young woman had to put her body through such torture, knowing it would only end in joy for someone else. It was an amazingly terrifying two hours. When the baby finally arrived, my brave face disappeared and I fell apart. I held Candice's hand, stroked her hair and couldn't stop saying, "Thank you. Thank you." She squeezed my hand and assured me she knew this baby was going to a loving family. It was a brief but unforgettable moment that I will treasure in my heart for as long as I live.

While they were cleaning the baby up and getting all his stats, Candice said, "Anne, what's his name?" She had been asking Zach and I this for the last two days and we had tactfully side-stepped the question by saying we hadn't narrowed it down yet. I was afraid to tell her the name we'd chosen. What if she didn't like it? And what if I named him and then didn't go home with him? I had done that before and believed it made the loss so much worse. I didn't want to make that same mistake again. I quickly stepped out to the hall to confirm with Zach. We agreed to share our name for him thinking maybe that would help her to disconnect from him, if she considered him OUR son. So I went back in and said to her, "Justice Grant. What do you think of that?" She thought for a second and said, "I think that's perfect."

It had been discussed between Candice and us that she would hold the baby first, so once he was cleaned up and wrapped in a blanket, the nurse placed him on her chest. Her first words to him were, "Hi Justice! Welcome to the world." I knew right then and there, without a doubt, she was all in. Zach and I stood, watched, cried, and took a dozen pictures. We went with our gut in that moment and decided to step out and let Candice have time with the baby without us hovering over them. I wanted her to feel free to say whatever she wanted to him. By the time we returned about ten minutes later, she had already placed him back in the bassinet.

We awkwardly had to share a room with Candice for nearly 2 hours after Justice was born. They were preparing a room for us to be on our own with the baby but it wasn't ready yet. As uncomfortable as it was, I was glad we were there with her. Candice's friends and family had left within 20 minutes after the baby was born. She was all alone at the time when I believed she needed the most emotional support. Her womb was empty and so were her arms and no one was there to help her process that. I was devastated for her.  I offered to call someone for her so she wouldn't be on her own, but there was no one to call. Even through her exhaustion Candice was still talkative with us, saying what a heartbreaker Justice was going to be some day. We gave her permission to hold him again or give him his bottle, but she declined. Later she was taken to another room to recover. We told her that if she wanted to see the baby again before he was discharged that we'd be happy to comply. She never did. And we never saw her again.

The next 36 hours we were in the hospital with Justice. I stayed with him around the clock while Zach went back and forth to be with P.J. Even though I felt peace about Candice remaining firm in her decision, I was still ticking off the hours of the 72 hour window until I knew she could sign off her rights. I refrained from calling Justice by his name, or referring to myself as "Mommy," until we left the hospital. I was still loving on him and taking great care of him, but I was hesitant to consider him "mine." My role, as I saw it, was to love on and prayer over that little guy for as long as he was in my life, even if it was just for a few more hours. We kept his name a secret from everyone but the nurses until we got home with him Sunday night.

The next morning as I sat alone with Justice in our hospital room, Candice's dad, John, dropped in. He had been in and out during her two days in labor, and had left the hospital about an hour before Justice was born, never to return again that day. Zach had had a significant connection with him, and though my encounters with him were brief, they were very positive. John very shyly asked if it would be ok if he met the baby. I, of course, said he could. The next twenty minutes were beautiful. I asked, "Would you like to hold him?" He said, humbly, "Ya know I really would." Watching my Justice with his biological grandfather is burned in my memory. We talked about Candice and our shared hope of her getting another shot at motherhood. We talked about why Zach and I chose the name Justice and what it meant to us. John seemed to love it as much as we did. Mostly though, John just seemed grateful to us for giving his grandson a life that he deserved, and he was especially appreciative that I allowed him to hold him and get the closure he needed. I hadn't even thought twice about it.

We were told by a nurse that Eric, the birth father, had dropped by the hospital the night before, asking to see the baby. When told they would need to get permission from the adoptive parents first, Eric said he didn't have time for that and promptly left. He never returned. We would have let him see the baby if he had only taken the time. It will forever be his loss.

To explain my constant absence at home once Justice was born, Zach had been telling P.J that I was helping out another mommy at the hospital. He brought PJ to visit me the morning after Justice was born, and we introduce her to him saying that his mommy wasn't able to take care of him so we were helping out. P.J seemed satisfied with that and became utterly fascinated by the baby. She loved watching us change his diaper, give him a bath, swaddle his blanket, etc. She constantly commented on how cute and little he was. It was adorable. Later that day when the baby was being discharged, we told her that Justice's mommy had asked us to take him home with us and adopt him, just like we had adopted P.J We explained that his mommy wasn't able to take care of him the way she wanted to, just like Jacquelyn (P.J's birth mom). She seemed to understand this. We then asked, "What do you think? Should we bring Justice home to be part of our family?" P.J replied, VERY enthusiastically, "I think that's a great idea!" From that moment on she has been proudly announcing her big sister status and introducing "baby Justice" has "my baby" and "my little brother." Her enthusiasm and joy has yet to wear off, eight days later.

We were not too surprised to learn Candice had signed off her rights on Tuesday, when her 72 hour window was up. Her attorney had assured us she was committed and proud of the decision she was making. Unfortunately Eric has not signed yet. We are not at all concerned he will contest the adoption or ask to parent, but we aren't confident he will make it quick and easy for us either. We'll just have to wait it out. Regardless, Justice is no less ours. He is our son, one hundred percent.

I know there will never be enough words, enough time, enough ways to say 'thank you' to all of you who prayed us here. We were so incredibly humbled and blown away by the texts, calls, and messages we received over the last two weeks. We can assure you that your prayers were felt, heard, and appreciated. We believe strongly in the power of prayer. Our daughter, Providence, is living proof that God is faithful and His timing is perfect. We are overjoyed to now have two children we can share God's love with and tell them how much they were prayed for even before they were born, and that God rallied His people to pray both of them into our forever family. Providence and Justice, names that will serve as a constant reminder of God's presence and faithfulness in each of their stories.

Candice and Justice during their first and last moments together.

Several times this week P.J has asked me, "Is baby Justice staying with us forever and ever?" I love being able to confidently answer, "Yes. Forever and ever and ever."

A break in the clouds

After praying and petitioning the Lord for "just closure, PLEASE," we finally got some information today. We have been in the dark for a couple weeks now, watching Candice's due date come and go, not knowing if she had the baby and chose to parent, left the baby at the hospital, or if she was still pregnant. It's been a heavy weight on our hearts and it's caused both Zach and I to go in and out of heaviness and emotionally flat-lining. Today, a break in the clouds…

Today Candice finally picked up the phone and called our adoption agency, a very important step in the right direction. She also called her attorney and touched base, another big step. She is still planning on placing the baby for adoption and she is scheduled to be induced this Thursday at 7:30am. When asked if she wanted to meet us before Thursday, she declined, but she said she'd be fine with us being at the hospital. So our plan is to go meet her Thursday morning once she gets settled into her hospital room and gauge the situation. Since the hospital is less than 3 miles from our house, we'll be able to tag team throughout the day (assuming she will be in labor most of the day, since she isn't dilated at all yet) and work things out logistically with PJ's babysitter as things progress.

Candice's attorney will meet with her and have her sign consent forms giving Zach and I power of attorney for the baby so that we can make medical decisions for him, etc. Once the baby is 72 hours old, Candice's rights will be forfeited permanently. Her attorney will also be serving the birth father with consent forms, so we're praying he signs off without a problem (if not, he has 30 days to contest).
We've spoken with our attorney as well and put things in motion.

While things at this point look positive, we know all too well that there is still a lot of time for the situation to shift out of our favor. At this point we are praying for the baby's health more than anything else. Without any real prenatal care, we just don't know what his condition will be. We are also praying for continued courage and wisdom for Candice to act in the baby's best interest. Please continue to pray that she will be come to know the Lord through this life changing decision, and that her life will turn a positive corner when all is said and done. Pray also for our time with her on Thursday. Though we've done it many times before, meeting a birth mom is just plain ol' awkward and uncomfortable. There is no stranger and more complicated relationship than that between a birth mom and adoptive parents.

Regardless of the outcome, we are confident the Lord's will will prevail. And if nothing else, having Candice and her situation brought to our attention has caused an enormous army of prayer warriors to begin a Godly warfare on her behalf, and that is worth every minute of emotional topsy turvy that we've endured the last two weeks.

Praying for justice

Today I received a phone call from a family friend of Candice's. She felt compelled to talk with me and ask me to join her in prayer for both Candice and the baby. She hasn't been able to reach Candice or Candice's dad for over a week. She shared with me much more about Candice's situation and my heart went from heavy to heavier.

Candice dropped out of high school after the 9th grade, never got a driver's license (she takes a bus to work), has 2 nieces who are being bounced from home to home w/out a father or child support, a father who works 12 hour shifts and does nothing more than put a roof over her head (he has no interest in the baby or supporting Candice), and a step-mom who is already raising a 3yr. old for another family and is struggling to make ends meet. She has been unwilling to receive prenatal care, and only went in to the hospital 3 weeks ago at the insistence of this family friend who is a nurse. It was there she found out her due date, etc. The baby's heartbeat was strong and he had dropped, but she was not dilated at all. The nurse who examined her strongly encouraged her to see a doctor to ensure the baby's lungs were developing well (she's smokes, has low iron, and is obese), but Candice refused. Her friend shared that while Candice is 26, she has the mentality and attitude of a young teenager. She doesn't think Candice has any real value for her own life or the baby's.

At this point, our agency's hands are tied until they hear from Candice. Without a phone call from her, there is no way of knowing what's happening. Even if she waits until she goes into labor, she has to call our agency from the hospital and request the attorney in order for us to move forward with an adoption plan. If she doesn't do this, the baby will very likely go into CPS custody, even if Candice says she wants to parent (given her situation and decline of prenatal care, the hospital social worker will make the call in the best interest of the child). We are praying Candice has a strong enough state of mind to not let this happen since she knows there is a family in place that's able to give the baby a home.
It is incredibly frustrating to know all Candice has to do is pick up phone for us to have any clue what's going on, and it's the one thing she won't do, for whatever reason.

The entire situation is a sad mess, and my heart breaks for this little boy who is coming into the world so innocently and unknowing of what his life might be. It is situations like this that so strongly remind me why Zach and I have chosen adoption over having children of our own. Babies don't get to choose their family, they are at the whim of their birth parents and the choices they've made, right or wrong. I believe God brings beauty from the ashes, and I believe all the more that He is a God of justice, and somehow His will will come to fruition in this situation. Please continue to pray hard for Candice, her family, and this baby, that they will be compelled to make a loving, selfless, and wise decision for this child. Pray also for Candice to take notice of God's deep and wide love for her, that she will know she is valued and seen by her Creator, and that He wants His very best for her. Her life can be so much more than this, if she'll only open her heart to see Him.

"Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him!" Isaiah 31:18

Waiting it out

In the last couple weeks we've been made aware of a situation here in Tucson involving a 26-year-old birth mom, Candice, due on April 2nd. She was brought to our attention through a series of acquaintances and "friends of a friend," and our only course of action was to pass along our adoption agency's information to get her the help she needed. After a quiet week, we'd more or less forgotten about it, until our agency called last Monday. Candice had gotten in touch with them and completed all of her paperwork, and she requested to view only our profile book. After hearing everything about her situation, we agreed to be officially "matched"with her.

Here's what we know…
Candice is Caucasion, and Eric, the birth father, is Korean. Baby is a boy, due on Thursday of this week. This is her first child. She & Eric are no longer in a relationship, but he is aware of the pregnancy and supportive of the adoption plan. Eric is a registered sex offender. Candice works 30 hours a week in the fast food business and lives with her dad. Both of her parents are aware of her pregnancy and supportive of her adoption plan. Candice smoke 3-4 cigarettes a day, but otherwise no drug or alcohol use. She does not want an open adoption, but she did request that we be present for the delivery. She lives 25 miles from us and the hospital in which she'll deliver is 3 miles from our home. Since turning in her paperwork to our agency, she has not been communicating with them, however a family friend of hers has been talking to her and to our agency, and assures them that she knows adoption is her only choice, and that she has simply taken on a "don't care" attitude, and has never been good at returning phone calls or texts. So, it would seem, if this is to work out for US, it will very likely be a hospital call.  In the meantime we have all our pieces in place and are prepared to get up and go should the call come in.

We continue to be neither hopeful or optimistic at this point. We know all too well that nothing is with certainty until papers are signed and baby is at home with us, (which, in the state of Arizona, is 48 hours after birth). For the most part, we've been without any real emotion. We're guarded, protective of our hearts and of our family of three. We are taking one day at a time, accepting completely that we have zero control over the process or the outcome of this situation. So much of adoption is about trust and surrender. There's no other way to survive it really.

Every morning for the last few days as I've laid in bed, I've just been praying for Candice, Eric, and this baby boy. All three of them have been laid so heavily on my heart, to the point of me just feeling indescribably sad. The situation for this sweet little man, should his mom choose to parent, is far from healthy. I don't lay any claim to him myself, nor have I even prayed for him to become our son. I've just been praying, petitioning really, for Candice to be overwhelmed with God's love for her and for this child. From everything we know about her, I feel her self-worth and her value for her own life is not as it should be, and I want so much for her to understand how much she is loved by our Father. I've prayed and petitioned for Eric to find healing and redemption over his past transgressions, that the Lord will bring beauty from the ashes in his life. I've been praying that this little baby will draw everyone involved closer to Christ. I know God is good, and I know He works ALL things together for His good and perfect purpose. I am convinced that no matter where this little boy ends up, the Lord's will will prevail. And for the baby, I pray for health and safety, both during delivery and in his life. He belongs first to the Lord, and there is no one better to look after him.

We share this to ask for your prayers and petition too. Please join us in praying these things over Candice, Eric, the baby, and their families. Pray too for continued peace and surrender for Zach and myself as we wait it out. We are so blessed, yet again, by an amazing group of friends and family who we can trust to rally around us in prayer as we endeavor on this journey yet another time. Whenever we add another child to our family, we know we'll be able to say to them (just as we as say to P.J), they were prayed into our family by so many people that loved them before they were born.

(We have not made P.J aware of the situation in any way, and we are keeping it that way until things are finalized. She will not be coming with us to the hospital, should it get to that point. However, the possibility of a new sibling is in CONSTANT discussion in our home, and she fully understands that God may gift us with a baby at any time. We are confident that she is ready to take on the big sister roll, even if it happens overnight. We've been amazed at how little we've had to say to prepare her. It seems God has been molding and shaping her heart over these last few months. She has grown and matured into a sweet, kind, nurturing little girl, and we know she'll embrace sisterhood beautifully.)

P.J's birthday

This weekend we celebrated Providence's 3rd birthday. While each year is filled with fun celebrations and sharing of fond memories of when P.J first joined our family, I'm still flooded with thoughts of her birth mother, Jacquelyn, this time every year. As Zach and I fell into bed on Saturday night after a day full of celebrating P.J, I got hit with an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Not for me, but for Jacquelyn. I thought about what this day means for her, what she may have been feeling or thinking all day, and my heart grieved for her. Every year on P.J's birthday I am struck with the profound conflict of what joy we gained by Jacquelyn's greatest sacrifice. I began to cry as I tried to imagine how painful and difficult a decision it was for her to entrust her beautiful baby girl to someone else, forever, with no take-backs. My heart ached for her as I thought of our daughter and the beautiful little girl she's growing up to be, and I was so very aware of all that Jacquelyn was missing. I tried to articulate my feelings to Zach, and as I fumbled through them, I ended up just saying, "Let's pray for Jacquelyn. Right now." So I took my heap of feelings and mixed up emotions to the Lord, and I prayed for the woman who carried my daughter and gave her life. I prayed specifically that she has found healing, mercy and abundant peace over her decision, and that she is free from the weight of guilt and shame. I prayed that in these last three years she's been able to move forward with her life and find great blessings and success in all she does. I prayed that somehow she'd found the courage to tell her own family about that baby she gave up for adoption, and that her confession was received with unconditional support and compassion. I'm often tempted to write Jacquelyn and just thank her for her brave and selfless choice, and to assure her that we not taking it for granted. But I know that any kind of communication or relationship between us needs to begin with her. I hope that someday she'll open the door, even just a crack, but if not, I hope she finds peace and closure anyway. We will continue to feel grateful and celebrate the sacrifice Jacquelyn made year after year. And even more importantly, we will continue to pray blessings over her life, because she is the reason our lives changed for the better.

Back in the game

We're back! We took a very long break from the blog, (and from the adoption process) due to some major life changes for our little family. It probably goes without saying, but the birth mom we wrote about in our last post, did not move forward with her decision to place her baby for adoption. After that we got a few other phone calls, but nothing felt like the right fit for us. Later in the spring Zach accepted a position at a church in Tucson, Arizona, and we moved our family to the Southwest on July 3rd. With the move taking over our life for a season, we put our adoption contract on hold while we transitioned to life in the desert. Now that we've been here over three months, we feel ready to get back in the game.

The process for pursuing adoption looks a bit different (and frankly, a LOT easier) here in Arizona. After spending several weeks updating our profile books to be sent to potential birth mom matches, we got in touch with a social worker to begin our new home study. (Unfortunately, even though we have a current, completed home study in California, it doesn't transfer to a new state, and we need to complete a new study before we can be matched with any more birth moms.) We were relieved to learn that our adoption agency knew a social worker in our area of Arizona that they had worked with before, and we were even more relieved to learn that the home study process here is far simpler, quicker, and less expensive than what we'd come to know in California. With an almost-three-year-old craving our constant attention this time around, we're so glad the home study process will be far less demanding.

Our application is complete, our fees are paid, and now we just need to schedule 2 visits with our social worker and complete a basic physical with our physicians. That's it! We should be done before Christmas and we'd like to have our agency begin sending our profile books out by New Years.

After such a long break from the process and so many major changes taking place in our lives the last few months, it feels very surreal to be back at it. As I was filling out the mountain of paperwork for our home study last weekend I was reminded how much this process demands of us both mentally and emotionally, and I began to feel fearful of opening ourselves up to it all over again. Will we have the energy and emotional stamina to endure it this time? We have a 3 year old that takes priority and we don't have the strong support system of long-term friends and immediate family nearby that we had during the last round. We're still getting our bearings here in Tucson, are we really ready to take on everything that this might entail? I was feeling so uncertain, until I heard P.J start talking about being a big sister. :-)

Over the last month whenever we've sat down to dinner as a family, P.J has talked about having a brother or sister. We hadn't talked to her about pursuing another adoption yet. The timeline for adoption is so unpredictable that we didn't want to broach the subject with her until we knew we were really back in the game. So for P.J to start talking about having a sibling out of the blue, baffled us a bit. In the last couple weeks she's talked in great detail about how much she's going to help with the baby and all the things she'll do with her little brother or sister. Without any encouragement from us she's developed such a beautiful little heart for her future sibling. We are so amazed to see how God is already shaping her and preparing her for the growth of our family.

It's like riding a bike

On January 13th we were matched with a new birth mom, Jennifer. Everything we've learned about her  so far is promising. There are no major concerns or "red flags." She is due with a baby girl on April 21st.

As soon as we agreed to move forward with her based on the information we were given, Zach and I looked at each other and said, "How do we do this again? It's been so long!" There were very few birth moms of the 7 we were matched with in our last process that we actually had a relationship with. Sometimes it's just easier to get a call last minute or to work with a mom who has no interest in us whatsoever. Open relationships are trickier, more fragile, and higher risk emotionally. We felt very rusty. When was the last time we'd actually spoken to a birth mom? It had been over 2 years.

We had a few days to talk and prepare. We agreed to approach this situation as we do all of them... cautiously. We have one focus right now- to love and minister to this woman and lend our support and encouragement in any way we can. Building a trust and relationship with her is our priority. We know all too well that regardless of how promising the situation seems, the decision is hers and hers alone, and won't officially be made until the baby is born.

We had our first conversation with her today over the phone and we feel it went really well. Jennifer was very talkative and made conversation easy. She had questions for us and she answered ours in great depth. She seems incredibly mature and has clearly put a lot of thought into her decision. She has a beautiful story, and regardless of the outcome, I am glad to know her.

Here's a summary of what we know:
Jennifer is 26 and has 2 children, Lucy (age 5) and Nathaniel (age 1). Each of her children, including baby-to-be, have a different birth father. She has custody of both her children and seems to be a very loving and involved mom. She is living on food stamps & other government assistance, so she simply does not have the financial means to support another child. Jennifer is an adopted child herself and she has a very positive, loving & supportive relationship with her adoptive parents. They are aware of her adoption plan for this baby and they support her completely. Jennifer met her own birth mom when she was in high school and it was a very negative experience. However, she was able to meet and build relationships with her half siblings. She'd really like to have some kind of open relationship with this baby and we've discussed that with her- there is still much to decide. She's been very open with her children about her pregnancy and plan to give this baby to a new family- we were very impressed with how she's planned and thought through the impact this will have on her children.

We ended our conversation with her today leaving the ball in her court. She's going to take some time to think about what she'd like our relationship with her to be over the next few months. We've made it clear we are open to her taking the lead and we can be as involved as much or as little as she'd like from week to week.

We, of course, would appreciate your prayers as we move forward in our relationship with Jennifer. Specifically, pray for her and the baby girl she's carrying- for their health and safety. Also pray for the Lord's continued leading in our relationship with her, that He would continue to connect us and bond us and keep our hearts focused on Him, not ourselves. May His will be done!

Now we just pray, and we let go

Yesterday afternoon we phoned our adoption agency to say we will not be moving forward with this birth mom and her baby boy… I'm struggling with the words to fully articulate all the thoughts, emotions and prayers that led us to this decision. While we feel certain it's the right decision for us and for our family, it's so very hard to let go.

When we looked at all angles of the situation, there were just too many risks to the baby's health, both short-term and long-term, to ignore. Nothing we heard from those we knew in the medical field and from fellow adoptive parents of children who were subjected to drugs in utero was positive. In the end, we felt it would be the most fair to ourselves, to the baby, and our adoption agency, to make our decision before he was born, and not in the hospital room.

Our agency sent out an urgent email to all the waiting families today, in hopes to find another family who can love this child and provide him with what he will need. Please cover this child in prayer, specifically that he will have minimal health issues in spite of what he's been subjected to in the womb. Pray for his future, that he will be loved and supported through the challenges he will face both physically and mentally. Pray for his future family; for peace, patience, and an equipped heart to meet his needs. We also ask that you pray for his birth mother, Shenelle. She is clearly so broken and lost. Pray the Lord will meet her where she is and change the course of her life for the better. She needs saving in so many ways.

Our friend Ashleigh said it best in a text message of encouragement today… "Perhaps that was the Lord's master plan in bringing this family to your attention… to mobilize prayers from so many that would have never known their story."  We agree completely.

So we pray and we wait.

On Wednesday we received a phone call from our adoption agency. There is a 32 year old birth mom here in the Sacramento area that is due with a baby boy on January 10th, however there are some serious things to consider before moving forward with a match. The birth mom has quite a history of serious drug use, much of which took place in the early stages of her pregnancy. Apparently she wasn't even aware of her pregnancy until about 7 weeks ago, nor does she remember how or when conception occurred, and definitely not the man it occurred with. It's very likely she was too strung out on drugs at the time to have any recollection. She has had 2 abortions in the past, and very likely would have aborted this pregnancy as well if she had known about it sooner. She has other health issues as well: diabetes, bi-polar disorder (which we discovered is a result of the drug use, not hereditary) and high blood pressure. Regardless of the outcome, please keep this woman, Shenelle, in your prayers. She is so very broken and lost.

Shenelle has made it clear she wants a completely closed adoption. She doesn't even want a copy of our profile book, or to know who we are. This saddens me, for her sake, but in the same turn, I am grateful that both P.J and this new baby, should it all work out, will have similar situations in terms of their birth moms. It makes explaining things to them both a little easier if one birth mom is just as absent as the other.

We've done our research and called everyone we know with experience in the medical field to find what exactly the risks are to the baby's health. While we feel we have a good idea of what we might be dealing with, it's impossible to know how serious things may or may not be until after he's born. Thankfully, our agency assured us that we can say 'yes,' tentatively, and should the time come when we are at the hospital with the baby and discover from doctors that the situation is not one we are comfortable with or can afford to deal with, they will place him with another family immediately. So, that's what we're doing.

It's incredibly difficult to draw a line in terms of what we'd be willing to handle and what we wouldn't in terms of a child. The book, "Secrets of and Adoptive Mother," says it well…. "When a baby comes from your body, you take what you get and blame your own gene pool. But what person would willingly sign on for that kind of sentence? Many parents ends up caring for children with cerebral palsy, deafness, heart defects, etc., but most did not choose to. .. I had to admit that I didn't want a child enough to suffer through a lifetime of illness, deformity, or disability. It is one thing to check no on an application; it is quite another to walk away from a living human being in need of care. An infant twice abandoned. If the birth mom's baby wasn't healthy, I no sooner knew if I could live with such a child than if I could live with the decision not to. I prayed that I'd never have to answer that question." -Jana Wolff

Zach and I are, thankfully, on the exact same page about this. We have managed to keep any and all emotions completely at bay. We are looking at this situation in terms of what would be best for our marriage, for Providence, and our finances. We are looking at the big picture, long term, and how a child who might need special medical attention or special needs could take it's toll on all of us. We have not considered this baby to be ours in any way. We are simply waiting until we have all the information we can, which will be after he's born. We have, of course, done a little preparation, in case this does indeed all work out and we have a son by Christmas. We've gone through the nursery and pulled out what we have, taken inventory of clothes and diapers, etc. We even have a name waiting in the wings.

We absolutely need prayer in making this decision. Please pray for the Lord's voice to be clear and audible to us both when the time comes to make a decision about this child. Pray especially for wisdom for the doctors- that they will be able to clearly assess the situation and catch any and all health concerns early on. Pray for Providence- that the Lord will prepare her little heart and mind to be a big sister. Pray that we will have complete discernment in how to help her understand the change that is coming and to help her transition smoothly into sharing her home and parents.

Birth mom's blood pressure is still very high so they've scheduled a c-section for sometime next week. We will try to keep everyone updated as often as possible.

In the meantime we are continuing to enjoy this Christmas season as a family of three! :-)

Daddy's girl

This Father's Day I asked Zach if he shared any of the same feelings I had on Mother's Day (oddly threatened by P.J's birth parents, a tiny sense of competitiveness and weirdness knowing we're not biologically related to P.J like they are). He said that's it different for him because P.J's birth father doesn't even know she exists, let alone was he there to share in her birth or have any connection to her. Zach will always be the only father P.J has ever known or even will know about. Zach gets exclusive rights to the title of "Daddy." I love that.

During his Father's Day sermon our pastor listed several statistics about fatherless children. They were staggering. (http://thefatherlessgeneration.wordpress.com/statistics/) With each one I felt more and more grateful that the Lord had spared P.J from a life without a father. While her birth mom may have been able to love her unconditionally should she have chosen to keep her, absolutely nothing could replace the role Zach plays in her life. It pains me to think how different P.J's life would have been had she been raised by a single mother, and it saddens me to know that somewhere out there is a man who helped create my beautiful, bright, spunky little girl, and has NO idea. His loss is our greatest gain.

We will never know how much of P.J's looks and personality are from her birth father. I hope she learns to be okay with that someday. I hope she can be assured knowing that Zach is exactly the dad God wanted her to have and that she has all her needs met by him and by her heavenly Father. I trust Zach completely with this all important role of leading P.J in the ways of the Lord, guiding her and loving her in the same way our Father does for us. I hope someday when P.J begins to wonder about her "real" dad, that she'll quickly look to Zach and see that he's as real as they get, and they don't get any better than him.

The pain of saying "no"

We received our first call this week. As soon as I heard Jen's voice on the other end, I thought "Oh God, here we go!" But then she asked if there was any chance we'd be interested in matching with a birth mom in Chicago, due with twin African-American boys, in just a couple months.

You might think the first clue we said "no" in that offer was the "twins" part, but believe it or not, we would have considered it... if the mom weren't all the way in Chicago. In truth, Jen knew what our answer would most likely be, but since twins, especially African-American twins, are very difficult to find parents for, she thought she'd give us a try. Our paperwork says we're only open to birth moms living in California, and I'm pretty sure we didn't check the box that said "twins" either, so we really shouldn't have been called in the first place. This only tells me they didn't have anyone else, and that made saying "no" really difficult.

It didn't even take us sixty seconds to decide. Having P.J makes out-of-state travel too difficult, since most states require a new baby to stay in state lines for at least 10 days. Staying in a hotel w/P.J for that long, or leaving her with someone back home for that long, just isn't an option. Not to mention the additional cost of traveling out-of-state and paying an outside agency to handle all the paperwork. We also know from experience, that turning a car around is far easier than taking a long flight home if things don't work out. But having never really set limitations on potential matches before, it still felt hard to say no. It was simple enough to tell Jen, "Chicago is a deal breaker," and she expected us to say as much. But after we hung up the phone we kept thinking about it.

Practically speaking, there's just no way we could take on twins before P.J even turns 2 yrs old, or risk flying to Chicago. We know without a doubt it was the right call. But turning down two precious children who need a home is never easy. I hope and pray those twin boys have a loving adoptive family to go home to, and I'm just a little sad it's not ours.

The past revisted

Some time ago Zach received a friend request on Facebook from Katerina, the first birth mom we were ever matched with (August 2010). For those of you that may not remember, this was by far the closest relationship we had with any of the 7 birth mothers we were matched with (to read the details you can go back to some of our very first posts on this blog). She had not made any contact with us since she made the decision to keep her baby. We heard the news from our adoption agency, just a few short weeks before the baby's due date. It being our first match and first experience EVER with a birth mom, it would have been heartbreaking no matter what, but we'd had a close, ongoing relationship with Kat for over three months.  We went to doctor's visits, found her and her 2 yr. old a place to live, supported her financially, and spoke with her on the phone at least once a week. She never showed us any signs of wavering, so when we got the call we felt betrayed and stunned. We were angry that she didn't have the "decency" or "respect for us" to call us and tell us herself. (In hindsight, of course, we realize how selfish this was on our part. Had we been in her shoes, I seriously doubt we would have had the courage to call and break the hearts of the two people who loved our baby as much as we did.)

Obviously, we moved on and experienced many more disappointments after that, but the experience with Kat hurt the most. I still think about it sometimes, and my heart aches. In hindsight, we can look back and see how God used us to help Kat and her son get to a place that was safe, a place where she could keep her baby and provide for it in a loving home. Once, a few months after I knew Kat would have given birth, I searched for her on Facebook and found pictures of her new son.. what would have been OUR son. It hurt like hell and I scolded myself for giving in to such sick curiosity. But at the same time, I was also assured that the baby was safe, healthy, and even happy. Kat looked happy too, and that gave me what I needed to move on. 

The message she sent to Zach last week read like this: 

"Hey, I was scared to contact you guys. We are good. God is good Zach. I'm very sorry for every hurt I caused you. My boys are happy and a handful. I was on your Facebook couple times, I'm so glad you are happy. Life is good..."

It's weird to receive closure long after you feel like you even need it. For months I longed to hear exactly these words from Kat, an apology and a reassurance that she and her boys are okay. I think about her and the five other birth moms we met along our journey. I think about the babies they chose to keep, and pray they are all safe and healthy. I bet they think about us sometimes too. It's satisfying to know that Kat knows we are okay, that we moved on and have a beautiful daughter, that we are all with the children we are meant to be with, whether we understand why or not. 

Mother's Day

This Sunday I will be celebrating my second Mother's Day. It's still surreal. There were many Mother's Days before Providence that I sat and cried in church as all the other moms stood up to be applauded. Even when were matched with a birth mother and expecting a child, I didn't feel much like a mother-to-be, because, at any moment, as I knew all too well, I could become a mother-that-wasn't.

Much like on Providence's birthday, I know I will think a lot about her birth mother this Sunday. I wonder about her mix of emotions. Technically she's a mother- she carried a baby for nine months and went through labor and delivery, but she went home empty-handed. That must feel strange. It might feel just as strange as it does for me. I celebrate Mother's Day even though I've never carried a child in my body and gone through the painful yet joyful experience of labor and delivery. I wasn't there the moment Providence entered the world, but her birth mom was. She will always have the moment. As difficult as it still is for me to accept that, I'm glad she has a little something to take with her. For her sake, I'm glad she has that moment to herself, to treasure and keep in her heart. I have a lifetime of moments with Providence that her birth mother will never have. I can't be jealous, I can only be grateful.

Sometimes the questions and curious looks from other parents exhaust me. I find myself swallowing a lump in my throat when I have to explain to yet another stranger that Providence is not biologically mine, that she's "at least 3/4 Filipino... we think," or that I don't know anything about her birth father. I think biological parents take it for granted that they know all the ins and outs of their kids and that they'll never get a question they can't answer. I console myself by saying that there's no way any biological child of mine would ever be as brilliant, beautiful, joyful and charming as Providence, so I actually got the better deal. :-) To be honest, I've never ONCE wished I had a biological child instead of my adopted child. The looks and questions from strangers are the only time I'm even reminded that she's not "mine." When it's just the two of us, or even with our family of three, I don't give it another thought. Providence is our daughter, one hundred percent, without question. I don't stare at her features and wish they resembled mine or Zach's, or long for her to inherit my family traits. I love everything about her, whoever her features and traits come from.

This Sunday I will think back on the moment I became a mother, because it really was just a "moment." I didn't have the nine months to transition and prepare myself. Though I'd signed paperwork and passed inspections and "nested," nothing could have prepared me for that first meeting with Providence. Just 36 hours after even knowing she existed, I became her mom. I may not have the same story and experiences as my friends who gave birth to their own children, but I know I love my daughter more than life itself, and THAT is what being a mother is all about.

Familiar but changed

"The process of adopting a child pushes your personal envelope as a woman, as a mother, and ultimately, as a human being. It takes more courage than you think you have, offers more self-knowledge than you think you want, and reassembles your characteristics into someone familiar but changed." -Jana Wolff, "Secrets Thoughts of an Adoptive Mother"

P.J has some news...
While it may come as a surprise to many (understandable, by the way), we've decided to enter the adoption process again and add another child to our family! After a lot of prayer and thought, we feel the Lord confirmed to us that both we and P.J are ready to grow our family.

We signed our contract with Little Angel Adoptions (the same agency we used before) just a few days ago and we'll be turning in our revised profile books this week so they can be sent to potential birth parent matches.

This decision to get back on the horse, so to speak, did not come easily. In fact, we've held off on announcing it publicly for as long as we could. To the few we have told, the response is typically, "That's exciting!" to which we say, "Is it?" Our scars are healed, but we have not forgotten the long and heartbreaking journey this road led us down before. We know this time will likely (hopefully) be different, but the excitement and anticipation we felt the first time has been replaced with reservation, caution, and realistic expectations.

It's funny what a difference three years makes on your perspective. Now that we have P.J, our every waking moment is not consumed with when we'll get that phone call and questioning God's timing and His plan. Instead, our primary focus is on being our family of three, loving our daughter with all that we have and keeping Christ the center of our home. We are waiting to adopt, yes, but even more we are waiting patiently on the Lord to work all things out for His good, not ours. If it takes no time at all or it takes forever, we are content with the gift He's given us in Providence Joy and we will continue to be grateful for her, whether she gains a sibling or not.

Our focus is to minister to the birth mom (or moms) we are matched with. We will love on her, pray for her, and help her in any way we can, regardless of the decision she makes about the child she's carrying. We will not consider that child ours until the papers are signed. In the end, we have learned that no matter how long it takes, the child we are meant to have will end up in our arms, one way or another.

To all of you who supported us, loved us, and most importantly petitioned the Lord on our behalf during our last experience, we thank you. Not a day goes by when we we don't think of all the people, both seen and unseen, who helped bring Providence to us. We trust the Lord will provide us joy once again.

A month of firsts

It's been FOUR months since we met our beautiful baby girl and brought her home. We have enjoyed watching her grow and change right before our eyes. She has developed quite the little personality, constantly making us laugh and smile. This month was full of "firsts" for P.J.

To start, she went on an airplane for the first time as we traveled to Maui for our first vacation as a family of three. ("Lola" and "Papa" generously treated us to a week at the Four Seasons Resort.) We were very anxious to travel with the baby, but, it's no surprise that she stayed true to her flexible and compliant nature- she was a DREAM the entire trip! She charmed people everywhere we went- some fellow hotel guests were even on a first name basis with her by the end of the week! :-)

While in Maui, Providence donned a swimsuit for the first time (which was so gosh darn adorable we could barely stand it!) and "swam" in a pool. We figured she'd either love it or hate, but she seemed totally unimpressed with the whole thing. Her facial expression was mostly bored, but we had fun introducing her to the water anyway. She also dipped her feet in sand for the first time and took her first boat ride (whale watching). Our favorite memory with her was watching her reaction at a luau performance. The music, colors, fire dancers and drums absolutely thrilled her! She couldn't sit still- she just had to kick and bounce! We know she won't remember a single moment, but we have photos and memories to last a lifetime. We were SO proud of our little traveler- she adjusted beautifully and maintained her laid-back temperament throughout the entire trip. (Very Hawaiian of her!) :-)

The week after our return home, Providence flipped over from back to tummy for the first time, and began sleeping through the night. We're afraid to blink, in fear of missing something else! She's also more or less weaned herself off her pacifier (it's a meltdown-only solution), and has taken to sucking on her fingers and hands. She'll occasionally grab her own bottle and feed herself (her independent nature is starting to shine through with each passing day), and she's very close to sitting up on her own (thanks to the Bumbo seat for helping her accomplish this!). We can't wait until she starts to do more and more things, but with each new milestone we are saddened- we already miss her "infant" phase.

By far our favorite thing about Providence is making her laugh. It's an absolute riot, and I still get teary eyed every time! (See the Youtube video we recently posted on Anne's facebook page.)

We love being a Momma and Daddy, more than anything in the world. It's a whole new part of our marriage that we are happily exploring. We still make time for ourselves- leaving P.J with babysitters to ensure we get our quality time alone. We know we'll be better parents and better spouses if we make that a priority. Thank you for your continued prayers for our family! We're hoping to have a court date in April or May to finalize the adoption and officially make Providence an IMBODEN! We'll keep everyone posted! :-)

Three times the fun

Providence Joy is 3 months old today- we can hardly believe it! I know she's still considered a "newborn" but I find myself already missing when she was "little." All of her newborn size clothes are officially packed away with just a few tears shed by her momma. It's a strange dichotomy- looking forward to all the things they'll be able to do in the months to come but wishing they would just stay small and dependent for a little while longer. You fellow mommas understand, I'm sure.

This month P.J has startled to giggle and squeal in delight... our cups are overflowing. We could listen to her baby babble for hours and never tire of it. She's developed a taste for music- there are certain songs I can count on to get a smile ("I'm a Little Teacup" is #1). She's also getting ridiculously close to flipping herself over from back to tummy. Best of all, she has a very predictable routine. We can count on her "happy" and "fussy" times, mid-morning and afternoon naps, all like clockwork. This rhythm she's fallen into has been a gift to her Mom and Dad. :-) In turn, we've also learned what throws off her groove- too much stimulation from longs days with family, unfamiliar faces first thing in the morning, or missing her 30 minutes of "play time" in the morning with Momma... and of course the rare occasion when Momma's need for Starbucks supersedes P.J's need for a bottle. :-) She received her first set of vaccines and handled it like a little soldier. We had prepared ourselves for a long day of tears and fussiness, but the tears shed during the injections were the first and last for the entire day. She was a little lethargic and clingy, but that was the worst of it (if you can even call it that).

I've re-joined the MOPS group at church every other week (a mom's group for encouragement and recharging of the batteries) after a year long hiatus during our multiple failed adoption attempts. I can't tell you how great it feels to be back under much better circumstances. I love the "club" that is motherhood, but in a way I still feel a bit on the outskirts. I'm the only momma in the group who hasn't experienced a pregnancy and can't speak about how much my child looks like me or reminds me of myself when I was her age. I can't say with certainty that she'll probably do things "just like her daddy" or have a knack for things like her grandmother. I have no idea which side of her family her gorgeous brown eyes come from or her long fingers, and I couldn't say if she'll be more prone to music or sports. I don't know what health issues run in her family and what she may or may not be at risk for. There are a lot of conversations among other moms that I still can't join in on, and it's hard.

I couldn't love Providence more if I carried her for 9 months and gave birth to her myself, and it breaks my heart that I can't know her wholly and completely, nor will I ever be able to help her fill in the blanks of her own family history. There will be so much about herself she will never know, and as her mother I can't provide for her. When Zach and I dedicated her to the Lord in front of our church family last Sunday, my prayer and desire for her was this: May she be content knowing she is a child of God, loved by Christ and loved by me and Zach. May she determine her value by who God says she is, not who the world says she is. I pray her identity in Christ is always enough for her, even when she longs to know more about her biological family.