Disclaimer: If you're looking for funny, or personal stuff puts you off, move along.
Where to start? Our son Hunter's birthday is in a couple of weeks. Four years ago I was sitting around waiting, for the bravest girl I know to call me and tell me she was in labor. Open adoption was the most profound, life changing thing that has ever happened to me. The whole experience is a blog in and of itself.
Since Hunter turned one I have been wrestling with the decision to adopt again. I say I, because for those of you who don't know my husband, he doesn't wrestle. He accepts and adapts. So, I thought maybe another domestic infant adoption because ours was so incredible. Then Hunter turned 2 while I filled out the application and I decided I better make sure he was going to make it to three. Then I decided maybe not an infant. We looked into international adoption, did the paperwork and realized that we could wait years for our child to come home, so we withdrew.Back to domestic infant adoption, only now there was a wait list to even start the application. I thought, perfect maybe I'll know what I want by then.
I've never prayed so hard for God's will, God's direction, God's purpose before. I've prayed and prayed and have only gotten one consistent answer. "TRUST ME".
Finding that profound and decidedly unhelpful, l I began to poll EVERYONE I've ever known. I sought parenting insight, spiritual advice, sibling experiences, read books. We even sought professional counseling. I am not exaggerating when I say I could write a post graduate thesis on this topic. The only thing that is clear to me from all that searching is everyone has an opinion and no one can make this choice for me.I even tried not deciding. Good in theory but do we turn in the application? Go through with the home study? Is getting a physical and background checks, deciding or not?
Today was our first home study visit. I have been very honest with our social worker about my waffling. She really only asked one question. Why do you want to adopt again? The thing is, I know what I am supposed to say. I know what the "right" answer is. However, if I'm honest with myself, I really don't have an answer.
What do I want? I want to feel like a "real" mom. I want to feel like I am legitimate. I want to be enough. I think that is what every mom wants. For me, no number of children is going to heal that wound. Only God can.
"TRUST ME"
So, regardless of where this ends, I want healing for the hole that infertility left behind. Thank you to everyone who has loved me through the yes/no/yes/no roller coaster. I am humbled by your acceptance.
Funny swimming part 2 will resume after a short break...
Penny, your blog is so profound. I know infertility, as you and Bill well know our story. I was ultimately given the gift of a child from my womb, from my egg and Mike's swimmers. You were ultimately given the gift of a child from a beautiful soul who gave over a miracle for you to call your own. You are by all accounts legitimate. You are an awesome mom, an amazing woman, and such an enlightened spirit. I know you've received everyone's opinion--listen to your opinion. As God says "trust Me"--but trust you too. God Bless and thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI totally agree with Paula- your blog is profound. When it comes to being a woman, we all have wounds. Many of us try to heal our wounds through children. Your post brought tears to my eyes, as I feel that same need to be legitimate, enough, whole. As you well know, I do have a biological child; I have also suffered the loss of children and felt the sting of an inability to give birth. As women, our deepest heart aches seem to be similar no matter where we have been planted. I think this is because we are all in need of the same kind of healing...as you so much more eloquently wrote.. the kind of healing that comes from God. My constant and vigilant prayer for you my sweet friend is that His peace, His love, His grace, and His mercy would wash over you and engulf your heart. Love you so much and appreciate you sharing your heart with all of us.
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