1.15.2010

adopted therapy

i haven't blogged about our adoption in a while.
partially because we have had some setbacks this fall...some out of our control, and some just because of the long process, which i had no idea would be so long. i'm starting to understand why everyone says adoption is a lot of work. some days i feel so overwhelmed that i can't even figure out what to do next.
the time frame keeps getting pushed back on the china end. it's looking like 3 years. potentially 3 Christmases, 12 birthdays, countless memories, more days that i wish to calculate, without her.

honestly, i have a hard time talking about it. blogging it even seems more difficult because then it's more real. i don't keep a journal, so my blog is as close as it gets. i know someday i'll want to remember, and someday, i will want her to know all of the pieces. and when she is finally with us, i want to look back and see how God was right with us in the middle of it. right with me, even on days like today.

my ache.
it's tangible.
at all times, i have an ache that seems to keep filling up the spaces of my heart. my mind.
it's never far from me.
sometimes i try not to think about my ache because it's hard to hold back tears.
like at the doctor's office today. i saw a sweet family. 2 boys and a girl. the way our family will look someday.

motherhood is too complicated to write. it's something that i know. it's something that is still a mystery. the love of a mother is so very passionate and protective and all encompassing.
that's how i know our family isn't complete yet.
because i have more to give.

in fact, i often have the same thoughts i did when i was pregnant with foster and rowan.
emotionally i have that same giddy excitement when i think of her.
anticipation. nervousness. ever wondering what she will look like.
i feel protective of her.
i already feel anger and frustration for the future perceptions we will receive because our family will be different.
the very difference that i embrace, i know some will not understand.
from the moment we brought our kids home from the hospital i felt a strong desire to instill the importance of uniqueness. every night as they fall asleep, i tell them they are special. i tell them i am proud of them. i tell them God made them just the way they are supposed to be. i tell them they are unique. i tell them i love being their mom. i tell them they are who God intended them to be and they must embrace it.

i already try to imagine how in the world anyone gets 3 kids dressed, out the door and on time to anywhere.
how will i reconfigure the car seats in my THMV?
will she like our usual 1/2 pb&j with a side of applesauce and a yogurt drink lunch menu?
what if my camera breaks or i loose my memory card when i travel to china to finally meet her?
maybe i should take a backup. but what if i loose my backup?
i often picture her with us at the park. running in the tall grass with the boys at my parent's house. riding on daddy's back like a pony. finger painting in the front yard. falling asleep in my arms.
what color should i paint her room? maybe something soothing and neutral with girlie accents and one of those cascading tulle nets over the head of her bed that i love so much.
will she love me.
will my love be enough to cover the pain that her young age has already experienced.
how will i survive another day without knowing when she will be with me.

do i sound crazy yet?

i struggle to even press "publish" on this post because i know it's not all light and cheery.
because my heart is so full with the unknown.
but i'm putting it out there.
after all, life isn't always light and cheery
and moving through the more difficult will make the brighter side glow that much more.

i'm sure a lot of people think this whole adoption thing is strange.
but to me, it feels like home.
our family is meant to love her.
i am meant to be her mom.

so this is me.
waiting.
not very patient, not very composed, not very light and cheery at the moment.
but waiting
anticipating
loving.


5 comments:

  1. I don't think Blogging is supposed to always be about daisies and rainbows. I love this post because of it's honesty. Also, since high school I have been felt the urge to adopt a baby from China (once I'm settled, certainly not for awhile), so reading this and seeing someone actually doing it makes my heart happy. I'm sorry it is such a process, I don't know what it's like to be a Mom nor do I have any clue what the adoption process feels like but I admire your strength during this. I feel strongly that all the wait, the anticipation... will pay off. :) Good thoughts to you and your famil.

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  2. I love it angie--it is a true mothers heart coming through, and although she won't be coming from your "womb", she will still be your daughter in every way. So, even though I'm not in that same place, the feelings seem completely normal, beautiful, and acceptable to me :)

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  3. darling angie,
    should you want to talk more, ray and I had a most heart-wrenching and horrendous adoption process, utterly filled with scandal -- and let to panic attacks on my part. currently we have two other friends who are simply in belabored and ridiculously long processes (3 and 4 year journeys). I didn't even read all that you posted because I could feel my heart remembering it's hurt from before and welling up within me as I read your words.

    i remember the feeling of shock and anger as a friend of ours (a guy) just openly confided that he had no idea what we really felt like. I remember saying to him in a whole-body-effort at self-control, that my children were in another country, in an unstable foster home they did not like, where their health was not certain, and where the country was collapsing around them; and asking him how he'd feel if his daughter were there without him. He didn't seem to believe it would feel the same. But it does. Worse, even, as there are so many unknowns.

    For what it's worth, there were two realities that I held onto in the face of my questions as to why God would allow this process to go on so long and under such conditions. One is that the price of free will is considerable -- that in allowing people to choose, it means people can choose not to help, not to care, not to facilitate, not to get along. The second is that it is NEVER over until it's really over. Sometimes I worried our boys might not come home and though there were clear reasons for such a perspective, 2.5 years later, our boys did come home.


    I am thinking of you, dearest angie.
    oneblessedlife@gmail.com
    Kelli (Edmonds) Moore

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  4. Ang, this blog is so beautiful. It's so real and honest, totally transparent and totally full of love. You inspire me so much as a mom. You love your children so much and so unconditionally and I feel at times like when I look at you and your boys that I see a glimpse of what God's love for us might look like. Hang in there dear friend. God is the one who has given you this desire for this little girl from China so he will be faithful to see it fulfilled. Love you.

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