The Accidental Mommy

Yesterday, my brother Peter would have turned 34 years old. That just blows my mind. Given he passed away just a few weeks after his 22nd birthday, it is hard to imagine him anything else than the young kid I always knew, who just started a family and began his path into manhood. I remember his wedding day so well, feeling a bit pensive at the thought of these two kids starting a life together so young…having a baby so young. I was proud of him. Proud of how far he had come since his troubled days as a teenager. Mostly, I just felt love for him as I watched him take that step of faith to become a father and husband. Its crazy to see where life has taken me since that day.

Less than a year later, he passed away. Just over three months into fatherhood, ten months into marriage, he was gone. And as I see how my own destiny was born out of those horrid moments of my life, I am in awe of God and how he can take any situation at all and turn it into good. The truth is that on the day of his funeral as I held a four-month-old Kaitlin in my arms, I whispered a prayer in my heart to heaven that to be honest, I never expected to come true. She slept through most of the service and as I looked down at her resting and in total peace, I prayed that God would let me raise her. It was a brief prayer, one I didn’t even voice out loud, but it was heard in Heaven. God knows are hearts and hears our prayers.

Now I sit here twelve years later and I look at the four children that are now in my home, and I cannot believe that this is what God was able to create out of the chaos that ruled that season. That day, that very hour of my prayer, I believe my destiny was placed in my heart. That little seed that took root and began to grow. Of course, we never see the big picture when we are focusing in on the day at hand, and in God’s wisdom, he doesn’t tell us what he is planning, because it is entirely likely that we would go running the other way if we knew. I know I would have! I went an entire decade without wanting ANY kids…I certainly never thought I would have FOUR, and no way would they be from the mother mine came from. NO WAY. I feel a bit of a Jonah lesson coming…

Well, since my last post, we have had our newest addition since the middle of October. “Joy” was 16 months old when she came home, and has pretty well adjusted to the household since. I am thankful that the holidays were just starting up when she came home, as she was able to participate in all the festivities and get adjusted to what a family life should be. We have hit some bumps in the road here and there, and she did have some behaviors and response mechanisms to unlearn, but she is an amazing girl. You would never know we are her 5th home, and you would never believe that she didn’t have her big sister Hope in her life since day one. Next month, parental rights will be terminated and hopefully by mid-summer, her adoption will be complete.

One new aspect of my stay-at-home-mom life is our weekly jaunt out to attend our visits with Widow. These times have actually become a highlight of my week. While the last few years have been full of bitterness, frustration and anger at her, the last six months have brought tremendous healing, compassion and understanding on both our parts. She is on track to regain custody of The Boy – and is doing a good job so far. She should be going into a detox any day, and within a month or so, will be in the best place she’s been in almost 10 years. None of us know what the future holds, but I am thankful it no longer hold bitterness. Yes, she has done a lot that has brought sorrow and pain, but God is a redeemer. He doesn’t just help us forgive and forget – it goes waaaaaay beyond that. He is able to pick up something out of the ash heap, dust it off, and make it beautiful again. I remember Widow when she was a different person. I remember the mommy she was when she cared for her two girls. I know that in her heart, she loves them and wants the best for them. With all my heat, I want to see her succeed. With all my heart I want to see her happy and strong and healthy. I don’t know if that will happen or not – I don’t have the benefit of a blueprint in this story. I do know, however, that the bitterness that lived within ME is gone. The wrath and indignation of watching her babies writhe from drug withdrawal is gone. The truth is that the babies are good – they are better than good. If they don’t even remember, why should I?

So – lesson learned for the day: No matter how unworthy someone is to receive forgiveness and a second chance, they are still a candidate in God’s eyes. No matter how bad they have treated you or themselves, they are redeemable. No matter what OUR OPINION is, God LOVES THEM. Remember Jonah’s end? Sad. Tragic. I don’t want to end weak, I want to end STRONG. Go to the Ninevah God has called you to, and then REJOICE when you see them repent. PRAISE GOD that they hear your words and turn from their wickedness. You may not feel that they deserve it, and you may have to grit your teeth as you speak, but when you obey; God is responsible for the rest. What freedom that brings! I am not responsible for Widow’s end – I am not responsible for anything by my own actions and choices.

God is good. ALL. THE. TIME.

Well, we have ourselves a baby boy. I actually wrote the most lovely, well thought-out and funny blog about it, but due to my obvious lack of computer skills, I deleted it all before it posted. To sum up, Baby J was born on August 14, and on Aug 27, we brought him home. Just as with Baby Hope, we will not know for at least a year if we will keep him, as Widow will be working hard to get him back. My thoughts and emotions have run a full spectrum of what that means, and my only conclusion is that I am completely resigned to the purpose of God for our lives. One of the most beautiful things that have happened since we decided to say yes to both #4 and #5 is that while I’m a bit excited and nervous about what it will mean for me to go from two to four children in a matter of weeks, I now know 100% that this is what I am supposed to do. I cannot tell you the freedom that brings!

During the last two months since this prospect of two more kids began, I’ve been reading and re-reading the scripture I continue to pray…Isaiah 54:1-6 – and one day while reading Kaitlin’s Bible (Girl’s Living Translation) on the way home from church, the translation litterally said to make my house ready because soon I would be “bursting at the seams.” That actually made me lol while I was reading in the car to my husband, I think its pretty amazing when God speaks to you in black and white. I don’t think it could get much clearer… So I spent a few weeks getting my house in order, including being incredibly blessed by friends that have given me a crib, tons of clothes, double strollers, car seats, toys and even a shower (how amazing that feat was considering it was planned and done in three days). It was just so different than with Baby Hope…with her it was a phone call and our world changed. With Baby J it was a thought, some discussion, lots of prayer, a decision to be open, an instruction to get ready, a warning that our time was getting close, serious preparation and finally delivery of a promise. Amazing, huh? If I look at that list (and as my wonderful friend Diana also pointed out), it looks a lot like the course of a regular pregnancy. Isn’t God good? A kiss from Heaven is what I call that…moments when you get the “aha!” moment and know that God has blessed you just for the heck of it. While it only lasted for about three months vs. nine, I can say I have definitely experienced a season similar to pregnancy.

So I’m back to middle of the night feedings and burping…getting use to changing a boy’s diaper (WATCH OUT!) and doling out his phenobarb twice a day. That is the part that hurts the most. Not the fact that we may not be able to keep him or that his bio parents are not able to care for him…it’s watching him and his body twist and writhe when he starts to feel the withdrawal symptoms of coming off of opiates. For the most part he is great, and a very quiet and calm baby (thank you Jesus, I have seen drug babies that don’t fare as well) and according to the doctor, he will be weened completely off of the “make up” drug within three more weeks.

Now we wait for Little Bit…I have met her twice now, and sadly she has been labeled “Failure to Thrive” in her short 14 months of life. I may never know why, but she’s the one of all Widow’s kids that has seemed to have suffered the most. After three months detoxing from Methadone when she was born (I still don’t understand why that took so long. THREE MONTHS is a very long time considering Baby J was only in for two weeks and Baby Hope didn’t need any drug therapy when she was born), she was in a foster home while her paternal aunt fought for custody. When Little Bit was six months old, she went to the aunt, which at the time was a great relief for my husband and I. At the time she was born, we were in a difficult place with our adoption of Baby Hope and I was still working full time…frankly, I was still pretty bitter at Widow and the fact that she had another baby just 14 months after Baby Hope, even though her doctor warned her not to have more children. I shut my mind off and just said no. I was happy for the aunt, who couldn’t have children of her own, and I was happy for Little Bit. She would have a loving home and still be placed with family. I purposed it in my heart and promised Kaitlin that we would connect with social services and be sure to get visits with her so siblings could remain in contact. Best intentions and all…Widow told me during her call to me the first week of June that Little Bit needed prayer, they discovered she had broken her femur while in the aunt’s care. Pretty suspicious considering how hard it is to break one’s femur. We arranged a visit with Widow so all the girls could meet their little sister. It was an amazing and heart breaking experience. She was just a few weeks from turning one, and she looked like an 8 or 9 month old baby. No desire to stand on her legs (she was fresh out of her cast), not much verbal communications and she was still eating baby food…very reluctantly. She was a very loving and affectionate baby, and Kaitlin attached herself to her quickly. She had a bad scar on her forehead that was obviously from a burn (I don’t even want to know what happened there) and her head had been shaved…by someone obviously not familiar with how you treat a GIRL or hair clippers. This was a broken little girl, and I just wept on the inside. That was the day I knew I needed to reevaluate my feelings on taking these two new kids.

Honestly, how could you not do anything when you know you have the power to rescue a baby from dire circumstances? I thought about the financial burden of two more…and it scared me a lot. It still does. Our finances have dwindled more and more…it makes NO sense to take on a new baby let alone two. But to look at that baby girl and see the brokenness…all I knew is that I’d rather get to the end of my life and regret not being able to afford a lot of family vacations or designer clothes for the kids, but I’d NEVER get to the end of my life and regret rescuing these four babies from the life that was before them. I am not Superwoman, and I am not intending to be prideful…I just know that I need to try. And that’s what we’re doing.

So to sum up, we have our fingerprints done for Baby J and Little Bit, we have our home visit done for Baby J and the one for Little Bit will be next Tuesday. So by my calculation, we will absolutely have four kids (three under three) by Sept. 13. Looking forward to see how Baby Hope does with Little Bit. I think Baby Hope will be an AMAZING influence in return, and I am confident that the whole Failure to Thrive thing will disappear quickly. For today, Baby J is in the swing, Kaitlin in her pre-teen world is sleeping in on her second-to-last-day of Summer, Baby Hope is eating a toaster waffle and I am pleased. I cannot wait to get my Little Bit in my home, and to find myself in the center of my purpose.

So I guess after my last post, I figured I’d decide how to divide up my story and begin putting it in book form, as I have always planned on taking my true story and putting it into a semi-fiction…you know, changing names to protect the inocent – adding a bit here and there just to make it more interesting. It seems as the “more interesting” part is actually starting to unfold, but instead of it unfolding in my head, it is actually unfolding into another chaper of our actual lives. I still need to start the book…but for now, the blog will live on.

A few weeks ago as I again, was making dinner, I received a phone call from Widow. She was calling to ask for prayers for her baby #4, who was born last June and had been put into foster care after three months in the NICU weaning off of methadone. At the time #4 was born, I was still working full time and we were in the midst of fighting our adoption battle, and taking another baby seemed impossible. I was thrilled at the time that the biological father for #4 had a sister that was going to take her. Is this confusing??? it is for me too. Basically, Widow has 4 children, all with different fathers. That may help as we move forward.

Now Widow is sharing that baby #4 is being removed from her aunt’s care, and being placed back into another foster home due to possible neglect and/or abuse. This sweet baby girl is not quite a year old, and they have discovered she has a broken femur and has had sporatic bruising over the last month or so. She wants my prayers, and any from the churches and groups I belong to. Of course, that is a given. My heart is just so sad for this situation, but I press on for more information. I ask some hard questions, and Widow is forthcoming…yes, she is still on Methadone. This makes me mad because she delivered #4 almost a full year ago and I don’t understand why a baby can be weaned in three months, but it is a year for her…well, that’s because, she tells me, she is seven months pregnant with #5.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, she is pregnant with #5. Thoughts whip through my mind, but unfortunately, Widow has to get back to work, so I will have to save my questions for next time. Since that call, there have been a few other calls, emails, texts, etc. and my husband and I have spent some serious time talking, laughing and discovering that our mission in life is unfolding before our eyes, and that in spite of our shortcomings and physical space limitations, we may just go from being a family of four to a family of six in just a few months’ time. Yes, we have decided to pursue adopting #4…and will keep an open mind about #5. Ok, this is the first time I’ve said it “out loud” and I’m just floored…excited, nervous, freaked out…you name it.

Isaiah 54:1-4 has been rolling around in my spirit for a week now, and I know it is setting the course for our future. “Sing O barren woman, you who never bore a child: burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman that of her who has a husband,” says the Lord. “Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes. For you will spread out to the left; your descendents will dispossess nations and settle in their desolate cities. Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace, you will not be humiliated. You will forgeth the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood.”

As Mike and I were praying for direction, he actually said “Stretch our tent, Lord, if this is what you want us to do.” My jaw almost hit the floor. I know the first concern for a man will be whether we can afford to feed and house a baby. And yes, that was my concern too. I was just blown away that he spoke the scripture I had in my heart all day long. The economy has not been kind to anyone the last few years, but we have seen our income cut almost two-thirds…we are having a time! Adding a one year old? Adding possibly another infant later this Summer? Are we crazy??? As we concluded our prayer that night, we knew we weren’t crazy…just trying to do the right thing, and the thing that we are perhaps called to do. I guess my mommyhood isn’t so “accidental” afterall? Was this the plan before I even said yes the first time?

After tracking down the social worker for #4, we still don’t know exactly what our next step is or whether we will be able to take this sweet baby home, but we are open and willing…I’ve begun shopping for double strollers online, and have figured out in my mind how I can tote a two year old, a one year old and an infant at the same time. We know full well we dont have a car big enough right now to accomodate the possibilities, but right now, it remains only a possibility. We know we have been called to be willing…we know that Jesus asked his people to support the fatherless and the widows. It will be a few weeks before we hear anything at all on #4. We don’t even know when #5 will be born or if he will need rescuing…but we do know that we are willing. That brings a lot of peace in the midst of this “crazy.” I can get overwhelmed thinking about it…and I am fighting thoughts of regret over saying no last year to #4. I am sad she will spend her first birthday at a foster home instead of my home. I am thinking about being mommy to a sweet baby that needs it. That doesn’t even realize how far short her life has measured thus far, with no fault of her own. I am thinking about her broken little body and her sweet smile…hoping her foster family is loving her like crazy so she will know how she is loved. And I am hoping that the right thing comes out of all of this. That she does land where she will have the very best of life and love.

Excited to see how many children I have by September when school starts again.

We're officially a family

A world where my daughter is finally mine in the eyes of the state, doctors, the U.S. Government, etc. It has taken me a bit of time to get to this post, and I’m pretty frustrated about that. Its not that I wasnt CRAZY excited about that day…March 19, 2010…but because while I love to write, this has been such an intensely personal experience, I am truly afraid to do it justice. I think that’s my probelm with the consistency of my blog. I want so badly for it to be perfect, to capture every meaningful experience along the way, that because I don’t always have the time to do it RIGHT, I don’t do it at all. Grrr…so stupid.

Anyway, it was a wonderful day, one that was captured BEAUTIFULLY by my friend Salina, a mother and budding photographer. The link for the slideshow is here: Reagan's Adoption Day

Since then, we’ve celebrated Easter and her 2nd birthday, and every time I look at her, I just get a jolt of pure joy that makes me want to sit down and sob. My emotions run the full spectrum of happines and sorrow, fullness and longing, relief and anxiety, joy and pain, and a silent anticipation that makes me think there is something I am still waiting for. I think these feelings come from a long journey, that once you get to the end of it, you get use to living in the limbo part of life – nothing is quite done, nothing is settled.

First nap with Daddy

This picture was taken the week we brought her home from the hospital, almost exactly two years ago. We loved her so much already, but didn’t know if she was to be ours forever, or just a few weeks. Mike and I jumped into this pool without a single clue as to the fact that we had become parents overnight. We knew we needed to help her start her life in safety, we knew Widow didn’t truly want her child born addicted, but we also knew we didn’t want her to gain custody. We had witnessed the tole Widow’s choices had taken on her two older daughters, and were just wanting what was best for Baby Hope. I would literally get up for her 2 am feedings and resist the urge to cradle her in my arms. I am so sorry I did that. I always fed her on my lap with her head between my knees and her feet resting on my tummy. I couldn’t bear falling in love with her if she wasn’t going to be mine.

Those feelings still haunt me. Those thoughts I had of “what if?” The truth is that we NEVER know what is going to happen in life. We never know if we have one more day, let alone what may be lurking around the next corner. It could be the best thing that ever happened to you, or it could be a huge tragedy. I am trying to learn my lessons, and understand that God the father wants us to live for today. Not what tomorrow may bring, but what are we to do TODAY that can make a difference for someone? I wish I would have had that understanding in those early weeks of being a new mom.

Weeks turned into months, and while we knew we would eventually adopt her, it was going to take a long time. And it wasn’t going to come without its gray areas and agonies of not knowing exactly when and how it would all happen. Now that it is over, I am praying and believing that our family will know what its next challenge is. Crazy thoughts, I know, but if there is one thing that will MOTIVATE you, its accomplishing something big. Finishing something has a great adrenaline lifting quality that makes you want to do something else…and I truly believe we have one more child out there. I am not sure how close we are to meeting him or her, but I know they are out there…or scheduled to be out there.

So, motivation, starting and finishing, living TODAY as it should be, not looking at tomorrow, or trying to see around the corner. Allowing God to work in me what pleases Him so that my life at the end will count for more than just paying bills and enjoying friends and family. What a better reward than knowing you helped others along the way? Especially the widows and orphans…because that’s where God’s heart is. And because the rest will not matter when your life is through.

Leaving the NICU

Adoption signing on February 8. Finalization is March 19!

I cannot believe it is finally here…even as I try to have it make sense in my head, my heart just isn’t being moved. Almost two years ago I started this journey and once we were in it, it just seemed like it would be forever before we would get here. More than anything, it felt like Baby Hope would NEVER completely be mine, and that I’d stay in limbo; sorta mommy, sorta auntie forever.

Last Friday, I took Baby Hope to the doctor for a check up from double ear infections, and for the first time, I got to call her by her adopted name. For 22 months, I’ve been taking here there and to the pharmacy and other places where I have to consciously call her by her birth name and I was SO PROUD! They took her “old name” off her chart, and she got to start fresh again as MY BABY. Not the state’s baby or Widow’s baby…she was mine. What a great day.

As regular life trudges on, I am in a state of paradox. I have wanted to be home with my kids for so long, and while that dream has become a reality (I work 2 part time jobs from home), I am finally coming to the “aha” moment where I can see how stay at home moms (SAHM) seriously have the hardest job on the planet.

My repentence time has come, and here it is: To all SAHMs, single moms, etc., I admit that when I was a “professional” woman, out in the workforce I would do the eye roll when I heard complaints from your camp. When I was a newly married woman in the workforce and I heard how tired you were and how you never had time to do anything, I would TOTALL eye roll. I judged you on your bad “easy” hair and your lack of makeup. I judged you for not looking your best and for having crap in your purse that no one on Earth needs to carry around. Even as a new proud owner of a child (Kaitlin was 7 when we “acquired” her) I couldnt quite understand how you couldn’t keep your house clean and remove the traces of child from your car…and I pittied you for your seady diet of McDonalds, goldfish crackers and gogurt. No kid of mine would EVER eat that crap.

I am sorry from the bottom of my heart. Even after Baby Hope came to live with us, I worked full time for just over a year. I had a HARD job in a very competitive field. When Kaitlin came to live with us, I traveled quite a bit for my job and I never worked less than 70 hours a week. I would come home from work, get dinner on the table, help with homework, shuffle Kaitlin off to bed and crash on the couch with my laptop to work for at least 2 hours before I was off to bed myself. The next morning, I was up at 6, out of the house at 7:15, to the office at 8, and back home to do it all again at 6 pm. My mother helped a lot, and did all the stuff that I now have to do myself and I have become the object of my mockery.

When I was window shopping with a friend a few weeks ago, I was horrified by the image of myself in every window we passed. I barely bother with my make-up, I probably brushed my hair, and I know I had on clean clothes, but that’s where it ended. I went into my purse for a much needed hair tie, and came up with: 1 McDonalds Happy Meal toy, a few stray dehydrated blue berries, a french fry and a small pile of goldfish crumbs. I scrunched up my nose, tossed all but the toy into the garbage and looked around me.

A few 20somethings looked at me and ROLLED THEIR EYES. I felt horrified and happy all at the same time. I had an “aha” moment. I went home that night, washed my face before bed, put on my moisturizer, shaved really well the next day and made a promise to myself. I may not be able to keep my house spotless or my car spotless, or my purse spotless – or even myself spotless. However, I can make a bit more effort to feel good about myself, put on that lipgloss – the nicer pair of jeans, the cuter top…and I can ENJOY the goldfish crumbs too!

So, as I count down the days to our adoption being signed, sealed and delivered (18 days and counting!), I can do it with confidence that I am starting a whole new chapter in my life. I am on the quest for happiness, contentment, and refinement all at the same time. I want to enjoy every moment I get with my kids, every proud moment I have while I work, and be proud as I look in the mirror that I’ve done the best with what I’ve got. I am going to spend the 5 minutes extra to wash that hand wash dish BEFORE bed, and push myself to accomplish the things I KNOW I can.

Here’s to new beginnings…

On Monday, February 8, we finally get to make the “second-to-last” stop on our adoption journey. We are scheduled to do our formal signing of adoption paperwork, which leaves just the judge’s stamp of approval about 45 days later. This means that we will be 100% legal, final and done by April 1 if there aren’t any delays, catastrophes, acts of God, etc. that would keep us from getting to that courtroom.

I’ve been washed with a bevy of emotions the last few weeks, not really knowing how to categorize or even be fully aware of what I’m thinking or feeling. So many ups, downs, ins and outs that looking at the end of the road is a bit like running a marathon that is so long, by the time you get to the end, you aren’t sure if you are happy, sad or just plain exhausted. Most likely all of the above (my analogy is weak given I wouldn’t run a marathon unless my life depended on it). I can look back and see how all of this has impacted not just me and my family, but my extended family, friends, co-workers, acquaintences and everyone around me. Even the woman that takes the WIC checks at the grocery store wonders just how long this is going to take. The good news is, not much longer. And I’m totally patient.

My web surfing the last few weeks has taken me across some of the most beautiful stories of motherhood, family and amazing feats of humanity, all done by women who are just like me. Woman who are just walking their paths and faced with challenges of all sizes, who find an inner strength to tackle their challenges and discover that some of the most beautiful parts of life are the ugliest on the outside. Challenges that make us feel that we cannot go on even one more day, things we uncover that are hard and painful, once picked up and dusted off can be the most valuable pieces of our hearts. As I get to the end of this adoption chapter of my life, I am ready and willing to take the next chapters with open eyes, an open heart and an excitement for what’s to come.

2010 is going to be a fantastic year. No two ways about it, it is going to be the year that my family remembers as one of the most important, with many significant, GOOD milestones achieved. I know it – I feel it in my bones and in my soul. I can’t wait to report about them all…and I will report. Even if a bit tardy.

By the way, as I move towards these new chapters, I know the “mommy” part of my life was far from accidental, it just took me a while to understand it.

Hello friends…or perhaps no one…I am fully aware of the fact that this blog is not updated as much as it should be. What’s wrong with me??? I have no idea. Life happens so fast, its like yesterday it was July and I lost my job and had all these great hopes of turning The Accidental Mommy into something I can really be proud of because writing is really what I want to do with my life. Well, I guess all I can say is thank Goodness its 2010 and hopefully I can stop apologizing and just do it. Right??? I will just stop making excuses (since all my blog entries always seem to start with again saying I’m going to get better at this)

And now on with the show…

While much has happened, we still haven’t signed adoption paperwork for Baby Hope. I had been given word before Christmas that we may sign next week, and have a finalization court date by March 1, but it looks like the holidays pushed that back a bit, so I’m just waiting to hear from them so that we can get on with it already.

Baby Hope is getting so big…she is not even a baby anymore. Almost 21 months old – talking and jibber jabbering her way through her day, learning to run and her most recent hurdle = jumping. She is obsessed with Yo Gabba Gabba on Nick Jr. and is really the light in my day. While the economy has certainly hit us, I have loved every single moment of being a “stay at home” mom, walking up to the school every afternoon to meet Kaitlin, driving her to cheer practice, savoring the nap times so I can get some work done or clean something…as crazy I always was about getting out and conquoring the world, I have found such joy in the simple things of every day life. Go figure.

So now the big mountain of this adoption is reduced to a tiny little hill of paperwork that is just a matter of time. I think about all we’ve gone through and the craziness that this whole story is when you look at it from a thousand feet…yet, today, it is just a matter of “scheduling” us in and signing on the dotted line. There is a scripture in the Bible that talks about how the end is far greater than the beginning of a thing (I should probably look that up, I think its in Joel) and that is just such a true but contradictory statement. In life in general – think about your greatest accomplishments or milestones. At the beginning, for the most part, if I would have known everything that this adoption would entail (let alone the concept of adopting itself) – or the fight for Kaitlin in court – I don’t think I would have THOUGHT I would have enough strength to get through it. I absolutely WOULD HAVE still done it, but I think I would have been scared out of my mind! Looking back at the tears, the struggles, the stress and the sleepless nights…I guess its just another lesson in how much humans can really endure. And another reminder that as hard and gut wrenching these past few years have been – every second was worth it when I just get a look or a touch from either of those girls. The gifts that they are to me, to us as a family…it makes the journey just seem like nothing at all. I dont even seem to have battle scars (except for that 20 lbs that still follows me every where I go). Isn’t God good?

Which brings me back to my point…I think I had a point…that the END is so much GREATER than the beginning. No matter how hard the climb, it is all forgotten the moment you get to the top. I am so excited to see what 2010 brings us above and beyond the adoption being complete. I know that this is going to be a good year – I can feel it bubbling under my skin and in my dreams. So what if I’m turning 40 this year…its going to be THE YEAR for us, and I hope it is for all of you too.

On Sept. 17 we had our monthl social worker visit, and heard some great news. The *presumed* father’s appeal has been stopped and we are finally clear to get the adoption of Baby Hope finalized. While this news has made my tummy all butterflies and rainbows, it still seems impossible to imagine. One one side, we of course have had her since she was born and were the only ones visiting her those weeks in the NICU when she was so tiny…but on the other side, I’ve had to refer to her as her legal name (not what we call her or what will be on her new birth certificate) in so many places and I’ve had to explain her to so many people, it just doesn’t seem possible that soon I can just call her my daughter and be done with it. No extra forms or court orders in hand when I want to travel…no permission from a judge or social worker to do every day things…no run around from the IRS about social security numbers, birth certificates or formal letters from CFS to prove I am allowed to have her in my custody or get her ears pierced (not that I want to, but what if I did?).

She will always have her story and her three half-sisters, and of course she will always know she was adotopted and who her “tummy” mom was and how she came to be one of us, but very soon she will just be ours. I can not tell you what that means to me, and I hardly even let myself really think about it because it stirs so much within me I may just lose control and become a pool of goo right here on my kitchen floor.

This has been such a long and difficult road. It has been full of so many ups, downs, sideways and diagonal directions we have come to live with the strings that are attached for so long I don’t know what I will do when I don’t have those strings dictating my every move. As the baby gets older, I am faced with things that touch and grip my heart at the same time. I am sure that there are millions of biological mothers out there that look nothing like their kids and hear questions all the time like “are you the nanny?” and “what nationality is your husband?” without blinking because they know they are mommy and it just doesn’t matter. I am trying to get there every day…and I know my daughter is my daughter…but these are the things I wonder about when I think of what it will be like when we are finalized.

A few weeks ago at church, Mike and I decided it was best if he drops the baby at the nursery and I drop Kaitlin at the 5th grade class, and we would switch when we picked them up. This would help keep the baby from getting too upset if I tried to drop her in the nursery…good idea. So after church I was excited to get Baby Hope and as I approached the nursery I could see her playing through the window. As her eyes caught mine, her entire body jolted to attention and she let out a loud squeel and came running and shouting “ma ma, ma ma!”…this literally choked me up and I went proudly to the door. The sweet, young girl working the late service who didn’t mean any harm says, “that isn’t your mama!” and while I didn’t let it get to me, there was this little “ouch!” I felt inside when I realized again that my baby just doesn’t look like me. I know she meant well, and she didn’t come out and say it but it was like she was shouting “THAT ULTRA WHITE, BLONDE, BLUE EYED WOMAN COULDN’T POSSIBLY BE MOTHER TO YOU! YOU ARE AN OLIVE-SKINNED, BLACK HAIRED, DARK BROWN EYED BABY!”

C’est la vie, eh? Those are the things I can’t let get to me…as I inch closer to being a legal parent of this baby girl I love so much, I can’t let HER see me flinch. Of course I can’t exactly attack inocent people who say stupid things, either. I probably would have said the same thing before I started this journey.

I chose just to smile and say, “Yes I am,” and I swooped Baby Hope in my arms and walked toward the 5th grade class to find the rest of my family.

My Beautiful Girls

Hello world!! Seriously, I can’t believe it has been six months since my last post. You know time is moving fast when even the 10 year old says so. I have been going through some pretty big changes inside, and I guess I needed a bit of time to step back and let my brain reorganize itself so that eventually this blog can actually be what it should be, not just an obligation or additional thing to add to my list of things to do.

I am actually in the process of writing down my vision for what I belive the blog and other extensions of it will look like. I really do want my story to help people know that they aren’t the only ones out there who find themselves in uncharted waters with zero idea of what is going to happen next. Whether be “child collecting” or anything else, life can be tricky – isn’t it nice to know you aren’t the only one going through it?

So, since my last post, I have lost a job, gained full time motherhood status, and had a bit of time to actually enjoy my life. To quote my favorite Jewish phrase “Man Plans/God Laughs. I had hoped to quit my job in November, to give Mike and I time to make sure his business ventures were enough to support the family. Well, I should not have been surprised AT ALL when that plan didn’t exactly happen the way we wanted it to.  Knowing what I do know about my life and how God seems to play out the chapters, I should have been SURPRISED if it actually worked the way we wanted!

Baby Hope is hardly a baby anymore…she is 16 months old, talking up a storm and has 12 teeth. As she has done since birth, she seems to take things head on: like teething. She got all four of her two year molars the same week, and hardly even complained. I sometimes worry she doesn’t have a pain sensor, actually, as she can fall flat on her face and never even flinch. Hmmmmmmmm…sounds oddly prophetic to me. I have a feeling we have a toughie on our hands. The adoption still marches on…

Kaitlin is starting a new school in a week. She is excited, nervous, anxious…but I know it’s going to be really good for her. New friends, new experiences and a clean page of her life that she can fill with whatever she’d like. Cheerleading still, of course, and we’ve added a dance class in, just for good measure. She still wants to be good enough to be on the high school team…she has 4 years left to prepare.

This season has definitely reminded me of that chapter of Ecclesiastes that was sadly made famous by a song in the 60′s, hence the reason for my title. I am thankful that even when it is a time to cry, it leads to more time of laughter, joy and peace.  Even the hard times bring about good stuff. Well, perhaps only when you are really walking with purpose under God, but that’s another story. Having a hard life for the sake of a hard life is not the same thing. We do have a choice, and as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord, and choose to have our lives count for something…so that during the hard times, we know the end result is for our good, not for our harm.

Widow is still out there…still having babies (just had one in June). Sadly, I don’t see her hard times bringing about joy as she continues to choose destruction. The fathers of these babies are out there too…continuing to just choose what seems easiest. There are others choosing to mask pain with what they think they want, when the path just leads to more band-aids and disappointment that the  “fix” didn’t fix much.

I guess my point to all of this is that if you choose wisely – choose to move towards purpose – the end is always better than the beginning.