Friday, September 26, 2014

My adoption and how you can help me through it

   Two years into the adoption process and some days I question whether I'll be able to hang on until the end. You see, I am a mama. And I cannot go on day after day as usual. Because instead of carrying this child in my womb, I am carrying him in my heart. And my heart is becoming heavy. I cannot feel him kicking. I cannot see his growth via a sonogram. I cannot hear his heart beating. But from the moment we started the adoption process, he has become a part of me.
   Adoption isn't an easy process, but you can help me through it. Here's how:
   Let me vent. The adoption process is hard; the waiting, agonizing. Sometimes I just need to let loose. Days upon days with no word or movement on the adoption front can build up until I feel like I'm going to explode. If faith can move the mountains, this pent up frustration could rock the continent. And "hope deferred makes the heart sick" is spot on; some days I feel like my heart is breaking.
   I need to know that it's okay to let it all out. So, be my sounding board, please. Let me rant about the waiting, the delays, and the obstacles. And please know that my rants are not directed at you but that I simply need to get some things out and know that you'll still be there for me. I truly do feel better afterwards.
   Don't try to "fix" it. You can't. If I even thought for a single moment that you could, I would be all over you like a flea on a dog. Some things just can't be fixed. And that's okay. I'm not expecting you to supply me with all the right answers.
   So when I talk about the adoption struggles, please don't feel that I'm expecting you to make it all better. A hug, a prayer, or a word of encouragement or Scripture goes a long way.
   Help me live in the present. I need this reminder, because so often I find myself living for that day--that day when I meet my son for the first time, that day when we get the call that it's time to pick him up, that day when we bring him home.
   Living in the present makes me face some hard realities that I don't want to deal with. The fact is that every moment, every day that our son is in an orphanage is time that is lost to us. Memories that cannot be made as a family. Milestones that are missed and can never be shared. Moments that tick-tock away without him. And so I need you to remind me that this is the day that the Lord has made and that it is in this moment that He meets with me, not in some distant moment in the future.
   Make me have fun. Knowing that our son is in an orphanage in Haiti, surviving on two small meals per day and experiencing few hugs, snuggles, and kisses sometimes makes me feel guilty for enjoying myself. This, combined with the everyday ache in my heart to bring him home, makes it doubly difficult.
   I know that our son is in God's hands and that He has a marvelous plan that I just can't fully see through the fog of waiting, and so I need you to reassure me that it's okay to have fun while I'm separated from my son, and in fact, make sure that I do. Remind me also how much there is to laugh about--right here, right now, in this very moment.
   Ask me what I need. The truth is that sometimes I get so caught up in the whole adoption process that I don't really know what I need until I stop and think about it. So ask me.
   I may need a listening ear. Maybe a specific prayer. Sometimes I just need a hug and the reassurance that one day my son will be home. Ask me.
   Remind me that it will all be worth it in the end. I've been "pregnant" for over two years now, and some days I don't feel like I'll ever give "birth". And even though you don't know when our son will be home, I need frequent reminders that one day he will be. I need to know that there's light at the end of the adoption tunnel and that I'll give "birth" before my four daughters do.
   On my good days I know without a doubt that this adoption process will all be worth it in the end. Other days, I wonder. I doubt. I lose hope. It is those days especially that I need the encouragement that it will be worth it all when at last our son joins his forever family.
   Some days I question my ability to keep moving forward and to see the adoption process through to completion, but I know that ultimately I will. I will because even when I am weak, my God is strong. I will because I know that I have you to help me through it.