Some Days Are Like That. . .

Today was a hard day. It’s been a year since our domestic adoption home study was approved by our agency and Paul and I officially became a “waiting family.” During that year we had an expectant mom choose us to parent her child. However, due to several circumstances, she ultimately changed her mind and decided to parent. We’d had a name, a crib, an outfit, and a vision of ourselves as a family of three. Since then, it’s been eight months of nothing. The reality is that there aren’t a lot of infants out there in the private adoption world. The reality is that we are too old for almost all international adoption, and the countries we’re not too old for we don’t qualify in other areas. We’re planning on taking the classes to become foster parents to see if that route might work better. We’re trying to trust the Lord and pay attention to where He might be leading.

Those are the facts. But today I’m also dealing with the feelings. The pain of wanting to be a mom for as long as I can remember, and imagining myself with a husband and four kids, staying home as Mom while Dad went out to work. But the husband didn’t come until the biological window was already essentially closed. So, instead of what it seems most people do—some canoodling with the hubby and voila, a baby—we instead got to do fingerprinting and fire inspections and social work interviews and friend referrals. CPR classes and book studies and drug tests.  Application fees and class fees and agency fees. And we did it, praying and hoping for the child who would make it all worth it.

After this year of waiting, we went for a meeting today to talk with our social worker about how we are doing and what else we could do. I like our agency. They’ve been great. But no one seems to know what to do when I respond with my honest feelings rather than the correct Christian answer.

“You do a blog? Write a blog about your adoption wait,” they say.  Yeah, right. Because people want to hear how powerless I am and how impatient I feel and how frustrating it is to be able to do nothing to make this happen. People prefer happy endings. Those chosen to share their stories always have the husband, or the baby, or the cure, or the victory. “Read this book about this woman and her wait.” “Does she have the baby now?” “Yes.” “That’s what I just said:  NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT THE MESS IN THE MIDDLE UNLESS THERE’S A HAPPY ENDING COMING.”

We are in the middle of the mess in the middle of the story. We may not get the happy ending that we desire. It’s harder than I imagined to put my heart and hope out there for everyone to see. It can be difficult to stay positive or even realistic.  Today was a mix of so many emotions. I’m tired of waiting. I'm angry this isn't easier. There’s not much I can do, but I want to do what I can. Yet when I get suggestions: Write a blog, join Instagram, try Pinterest, call other agencies, make a copy of your book and put it at OB-GYN offices, ask friends to share your profile. . . then I shut down because what if I can’t do all of that? If I can’t or we don’t do it right, do we miss our chance at a child? And, deeper, why does this have to be so hard for us when it is so easy for so many other people?

As many of you who follow this blog know, I have had my struggles with feeling distant from the Lord over the last few years. It’s improved, but I would still like my relationship with Him to be closer. In the middle of this journey it can be hard to see God at work. As I spent the afternoon avoiding the acts of praying and processing the morning, I had an errand to run. I couldn’t find the audiobook I wanted, so I was listening to a message from my old church in St. Louis. When that message finished, another one automatically loaded from Tim Keller, well-known pastor and Christian author, called "An Immigrant's Courage", about Ruth and Naomi and Boaz. It’s a great message and I could talk about several ideas in it, but what struck my heart was when Keller spoke about how the Lord did not abandon Naomi. He provided Ruth for her, and, through Ruth, a future and a hope and an heir.

Naomi thought that she had lost everything. Her husband and sons were dead and she was too old to work or to marry. She went back home telling everyone to call her “Mara” because it meant “bitter”. However, God had a plan for her. The book of Ruth is only four chapters long and will tell you the whole wonderful story.  God ultimately provided a husband for Ruth, and, through Jewish custom, an heir to Naomi’s son. The Lord did not abandon Naomi, and He has not and will not abandon me. That doesn’t mean that I will get a child. It does mean that the Lord is with me and communicating during the wait. Today God used the message I heard and the truth of the book of Ruth to remind me that, though things may not work out according to my plan, He will not leave me alone.

So, I will call more agencies, take the foster care classes, continue to figure out Instagram, keep praying that God will bring us a child, and wait for the end of the story.

P.S.
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