Mine

When I first laid eyes on her, she was sleeping.  I was thankful for that.  Pulling up to the house she lived in, walking in the front door and seeing blankets and hats and toys and books and diaper bags... it was all too much.  Meeting her right away would have done me in.

I cried a little as I met and hugged the people who have loved and cared for her tirelessly since she was two days old.  I was surprised I didn't dissolve into a sobbing puddle.  That would be typical Megan.  But my mind and body knew something major was happening and pulled through to hold me together.

She stretched and rubbed her eyes as she began to wake up.  Dede gently lifted her from her crib and carried her straight to me.  I stared and stared at the sweet little face whose pictures had been dancing through my dreams for weeks. She was real! She smelled so sweet and felt so soft as she cuddled her little head straight into my shoulder, still half asleep.

We spent four days with Dede and Gene, once "Mom and Dad", now "Nanny and Pops." The first two nights we slept in their home, they cooked us meals, poured us wine, and we watched as they effortlessly cared for their little angel.  Everything was so slick and smooth.  Routine. I was in awe. She slept in our guest room in a Pack 'N' Play, and she woke in the middle of the night, just at the time they said she would.  As I lifted her up in the 1 a.m. darkness, I couldn't see her smile, but I could feel it against my shoulder.  She knew it was time for a snack.  She knew she would be sung to and cuddled.  It's probably her favorite time of day.

After two nights we moved out of their house into a hotel with little Elizabeth.  We began eating meals on our own, having "outings" on our own, and visiting Nanny and Pops for long stretches of the day.  When we were alone with her, we began to call her Libby, just a little bit.  She was used to "Lizzy."  They knew we were changing the nickname, but I didn't want to use the new one in front of them.  It felt strange and even a little ungrateful.  I heard Dede use it a couple times when playing with her later in the week.  It meant the world to me and broke my heart, all at the same time.

Saying goodbye to them was simply awful.  We had the most wonderful last night - we ordered pizza and talked and laughed as if we'd known each other for years.  We already had "inside jokes." But we all knew what was going to happen, and we didn't want the night to end.  Gene wouldn't see her again.  Dede would come by our hotel in the morning before we left town.  My heart was broken.  I loved this baby girl so much already, but I knew that they loved her more.  And I was taking her away from them.  She felt like "theirs."

We packed up the car Friday morning with the gear and the sweet baby who was now "ours." We were free to come home to Minnesota, but we weren't ready.  Our flight home would be a monstrous undertaking between all the luggage, carry-ons, carseat and stroller, and little Elizabeth.  We needed a couple days to rest, recover, and get to know one another as an independent family.

We traveled from the coast to the desert and met up with dear friends from college.  She was not used to the heat.  She was not used to the sounds of other children.  She was not used to the smells and sounds of our strange little condo.  She was a little more subdued.  She slept more.  Smiles had to be coaxed out of her.  And Saturday morning, when we changed her from pajamas to a baptismal gown and then to a swimsuit within half an hour, she screamed bloody murder (several times) like I'd never heard before.

After swimming and a nice, long nap, I dressed her in clothes that I had bought her for the first time, rather than one of the seven thousand outfits Dede had given us :) It still felt a little "wrong." We took a little walk outside in the desert heat and settled in the cool grass under a shady tree for some pictures.  We cuddled and played and she perked up a bit. 

Sunday we flew home.  LAX with a baby was, surprisingly, rather pleasant and painless.  She was a champ on the plane.  After landing, we went to Starbucks with our friends who had kept our car in their garage.  Then we went to pick up the dogs and showed her off there, too.  She was quiet but very alert, just taking it all in.  We got home about 7:00 and the nursery, once neat, clean and "waiting," erupted with clothes and blankets and cute little girl things.  What a beautiful mess.

Home at last with my own furniture, changed into clean clothes and reunited with my doggies, it felt bizarre as I went through the unfamiliar motions of diapering and feeding and clothing a baby.  Although the sting was still real and powerful, it no longer felt like she "belonged" to Dede and Gene.  But it still didn't feel like she belonged to me.  Especially when every trace of her former "routine" vanished for our first six days at home and I became a walking, worrying zombie.  It felt surreal, temporary - almost as if I was baby-sitting someone else's child in my home while they were on vacation.

I started finding places to unpack all her treasures. The three big boxes of the rest of her goodies arrrived from California on Wednesday.  I washed dishes and folded laundry and baked cookies and worked on the computer while she napped.  I tried trick after trick in the middle of the night to get her back to sleep after that 1 a.m. wake-up call.  She refused.  I was (am) far more exhausted than I would admit. Grandma came on Wednesday, followed closely by Grandpa on Thursday.  Just in time for Little Girl to get miserable for all of Thursday and most of Friday.  She's got a couple of upper teeth taking their sweet time cutting through, and it's driving her crazy.

She would cry and cry and her nose would drip and her eyes would water and she drooled more than I think it snowed all last winter.  She didn't want to eat.  She wanted to sleep all. day. long.  And then not a wink at night.  She had JUST been starting to take comfort from me, and now there was nothing I could do to soothe her. I felt awful.  It seemed everything I did would make her cry.  Thank God my mom is around.  She's the one who keeps remembering how much Libby loves the bath, and how it calms her.  She's the one who remembers to take her temp.  She's the one who put her foot down and told me to get my butt back to bed NOW for a nap.  I was feeling exhausted, worried, and guilty.  I wasn't spending enough time in the Word of God. And so I felt awful. She was starting to feel like mine, but I felt like I didn't deserve her.

Last night God worked a little miracle in our house and she slept straight through until 5:30, except for a little half hour snack at 12:30.  I woke up refreshed, clear-headed and grateful.  I felt like myself.  I woke to happy little cooing and giggling sounds, not crying.  Well, not until I removed seven hours' worth of nose crusties.  Then she screamed her head off.  When the nose was clear, I wrapped her in my arms and held her close and nested into the rocker, the early morning sun sparkling on her tear-stained cheeks.

As I cuddled her and began to softly sing, she started to smile and my heart just melted.  She stopped crying just as I started to.  In that moment I felt it for the first time.  It was fierce and powerful and brought me to tears.  She's mine.  "It's you and me, kid," I told her.  "Well, and Daddy, too." Later in the morning we were having rice cereal for breakfast and I tried a new noise and had her laughing hysterically, like she never has for me.  That settled it.  It's true.  She's mine.

Adjusting to a new baby is tough for anyone.  Bringing that baby home through adoption adds special challenges.  And when she's seven months old and you've just uprooted her from the most loving, wonderful people and SHE KNOWS IT... it's pretty tough.  I'm not kidding myself into thinking those feelings of guilt and inadequacy are done.

But after this morning, I know what it's "supposed" to feel like.  It was a truly precious moment.  And when the bad days come again, I'll think of her sweet little face, laughing so hard she spit her cereal in my face.

What's Another Week?

Well, some of you have gathered from a few random Facebook posts that our "Elizabeth" plans have changed a bit, but many others still might think we're leaving for California in two days.  I guess it's time for a little update :)  We have to wait one more looooooong week now before we get to leave.  At first I was really disappointed... now (two days before the date we originally wanted to leave) I'm a little relieved because I know we would have been SO far from ready to go on Sunday.

Our little sweetie pie is now 6 1/2 months old.  I get a little wistful and occasionally bum out because we're missing so much from day to day, but have such joy knowing we will be with her before she turns 7 months on June 3.  Tim and I fly out to LA on Sunday night, May 27, on a flight I bought so cheaply, I still do a happy dance when I think about it three days later.  We'll get into LA about 11 pm and probably not sleep at all because we'll be so excited.  First thing in the morning, we'll pick up a rental car and head about three hours north to meet little Libby on Memorial Day.  The birthmother's social worker, Theresa, will be coming from about 4 hours in a different direction to meet us and go through our paperwork.  She might even make it down to us right away on Memorial Day, depending on what her family has planned for the holiday; otherwise she will come on Tuesday or as soon as she can.  But regardless of when Theresa is able to make it to meet us, we're "allowed" to go and visit Elizabeth and the family she has been staying with, and start getting to know her.  So Monday is the day!

Elizabeth has been staying with these wonderful people named Dede and Gene.   They love her so much and have taken fantastic care of her since she was two days old.  After a little stint in the NICU, Elizabeth came home with them at about a week old.  She had been born a little early, but I think she was full-term at least.  She was 6 lb 13 oz, but dropped more than she should have in the first week due to some issues that I am anxious to hear more about.  When she first got home, she was a fussy eater and slow to grow, so Dede and Gene bought a home scale for her and they weighed her every two days.  Even now that she's "out of the woods" and doing much better, they still continue to weigh her regularly; it's a fun little ritual for them.  Last I heard, the little peanut was closing in on 16 pounds!

The live in a beautiful town right on the ocean, and take her there often for walks.  Tim and I are really looking forward to spending some time on the coast! We'll be staying with Dede and Gene for 4-5 days to help ease Elizabeth's transition from their care to ours.  We'll stay in their home for at least 2 nights, and spend our days learning her daily routine so that we can do our best to replicate it for Libby's comfort and familiarity.  For the third and fourth nights, we'll stay in a hotel to see how she does overnight in a different environment, but we'll bring her back to the house during the day.  I'm pretty nervous about those first couple days after we actually leave for good; I think she's going to have a rough time at first.  Since she relies so much on her senses other than sight, we have to think very differently about how to make her feel secure and comfortable with us.

Depending on when Theresa arrives to go through paperwork with us, and then gets it submitted to the state, we will probably be in California for 5-10 days.  One of the first forms we will sign will be "placement" papers, allowing us to leave Dede and Gene's with her and travel freely as a family, but we will need the state's approval of some of our other paperwork before we are allowed to leave the state and come home.  The earliest they foresee this happening would be Friday, June 1.  I'm not really counting on things happening that quickly.  We're mentally preparing that we'd have to be out there until Tuesday the 5th or Wednesday the 6th, and will just be pleasantly surprised if we're allowed to come home earlier.

Libby has not yet been baptized, so we want to do that before we travel home with her.  I got a box of beautiful clothes from my mom this week, and my baptismal gown was inside for us to take to California and use for Elizabeth.  If we come home before Sunday, we'll do a little private ceremony somewhere before flying out.  If we are there over the weekend, we'll be staying with some dear friends after we leave Dede and Gene's and hope to the baptism in a WELS church on Sunday.

We're really excited about getting her home for our whirlwind month of June that has been falling into place.  June 10 is our six-year anniversary, and will likely be our first Sunday home to introduce her to the congregations.  June 11-14, Tim will be gone to New Ulm for District Convention, but is considering coming home in the evenings to see Libby (and me :) I may go down there a bit, too, so she can meet some of our pastor friends and their families.  Libby's first Brewers game (or Twins game, depending on how you cheer) will be Friday night, June 15 at Target Field.  The next Friday the 22nd, we have a family wedding in Wisconsin for my side, and then a family wedding reception on Saturday for Tim's side.  THEN Tim will be gone June 26-July 1 for the WELS Youth Rally in Tennessee, so I'll either be home alone, accepting live-in visitors, or hanging out in Wisconsin for the week, passing Elizabeth around from grandparent to grandparent.  I guess I still have a month to think about that one :)


We have slowly been feeling more and more "ready" for her from day to day, as these weeks have passed since we first found out that she is ours.  The first week, neither of us slept well and at times felt physically ill from the stress.  The second week, we had started to get more of our ducks in a row as to medical appointments, special resources, and baby gear.  We have a pretty good idea of what Dede will be sending us home with, have bought a few things that we know we will need right away, and are humbled by God's grace daily as the generosity of family and friends fills our mailbox with gift cards and adorable outfits and wonderful little girl goodies.

I will be getting a six-week maternity leave from work, which starts when we bring her home and does not include the California trip.  So that puts us out to the middle of July.  During the six weeks, we'll be evaluating if I should try to return to work or stay home permanently.  Our "life plan" always included me going back to work, because I have a wonderful part-time schedule that would only require us to utilize daycare two days per week, with "Daddy Day" on my other two half-days per week.  But Little Miss Libby's needs have us seriously considering me staying home.  We'll see.  I absolutely love my job... BUT we kinda love Elizabeth a little bit, too :) We'll need some time at home with her to figure out what day-to-day life will be like, and what will be best for her.


SO! That's what we know for now.  I am absolutely dying to share pictures of this beautiful little girl with you all, but we have been asked by the social workers not to do so until we get her home.  However, I am allowed to share privately, so if you would like to see some pictures, please e-mail me at megan.redfield.MR@gmail.com, and I'll send some to you.  Maybe not right away... but eventually.  I may get another update posted before we leave next Sunday, if we have anything new to report.  Otherwise I'll post something while we're out there about how absolutely wonderful she is :)

Elizabeth

I think this is a first. Two posts within a week... sometimes it's hard to do two posts in a month! I have a confession to make about my last post, all about making the most of pre-parenthood years.  The truth is, I already knew about Baby Elizabeth when I posted it.  Here's the story of our last three weeks:

Monday, April 16
I went in to work for a few hours in the afternoon, after Tim left for Pastor's Conference.  I have Mondays off, but we were falling behind on some paperwork and Tim had just left and I wanted some extra hours.  When I got to the office, i grabbed my laptop, a stack of papers, and headed to the back business office.  Within minutes of sitting down, my phone rang with a number I recognized as "important," but couldn't, for the life of me, remember whose number it was.  I answered hesitantly, a much lower, less bubbly voice than I normally reserve for Noel, our social worker.  

Of course, it was Noel, our social worker.

She asked me to check my e-mail right away.  She had just sent me details about a special needs baby in California.  We've gotten calls like this from her before; calls asking if we're willing to have our profile book shown in "special circumstances," like out-of-state or special needs.  In this case, it was both!

Elizabeth was born on 11/3/11, and was diagnosed on 12/6/11 with Optic Nerve Hypoplasia.  The optic nerve is underdeveloped, and it can cause vision problems or blindness, hormone deficiencies, and brain damage.  In Elizabeth's case, the biggest symptom so far is her vision.  For the time being, she has been declared blind.  To what degree, we won't know until we meet her, talk with her doctors, and wait it out a couple years.  From the little research we've done, we learned that most children experience visual improvement within the first  2-3 years of life.  We're not "banking" on that happening, but of course hope and pray that it will.

As far as other possible issues, Elizabeth's doctors are optimistic that developmental delays and brain damage will not be severe, because she's growing extremely well and is a very happy, well-adjusted baby.  She eats well, pulls herself up, and is developing in an age-appropriate manner.

So Tim (having just left home for 2 days) and I (without the computer that Tim took to Pastor's Conference) had to decide Monday night if we wanted our profile book shipped to California the next day for consideration in Elizabeth's case.  I quick printed off a few handouts before I left work, but we had very little to base this decision off of.  Looking back, that was probably best. No matter how much we learn about ONH, none of it matters until we talk to HER doctors about HER.  And this decision is about so much more than a disorder: it's about a beautiful baby girl, it's about two parents ready to love her, it's about faith in God.

So the next morning I e-mailed Noel back, agreeing to have our book sent.  It had taken us a matter of minutes to decide, but I wanted to sleep and pray on it overnight.

Friday, April 20
is the date we had been given for when the profile showing would take place.  I was a complete wreck that day.  I had taken off work and was flying to Milwaukee that morning for a baby shower the next day (a flight for $120, who can argue with that against the price of gas?!?) It KILLED me to turn off my phone for that 45-minute flight. I waited and waited and waited for news all day.  Noel is fantastic about contacting us as soon as she hears anything, so I knew I could trust her.  Finally about 7:30 that night, I started thinking clearly and realized it was highly unlikely a decision would be made in one day.  We'd probably hear something on Monday.

So Monday I was a wreck again.  And we didn't hear anything.  "Maybe we'll hear on Friday... maybe they wanted to take a week to decide."

Still nothing Friday.

Everything felt different about this showing.  We've had our book shown before, and I've been able to relax as we wait it out.  This time I could NOT STOP thinking about Elizabeth all day, every day.  Wondering how you teach a blind baby to do this and that.  Wondering if I will need to leave my job that I love and stay home with her.  Wondering what she looks like, smells like, what she would feel like cuddled up against my chest.  


Monday, April 30
Two weeks had gone by and we still hadn't heard anything.  I had promised the girls at work that I would call Noel this day and ask if she had heard anything.  I really didn't want to "push" her for info because, like I said, she is wonderful and I trust that she'd tell us the MOMENT she heard anything.  

I chickened out and never called Noel.  I decided I would call tomorrow instead.  


We had waited until the last possible moment to hear about Elizabeth, but we really needed to get ourselves registered for our Marathon and Half Marathon on May 19 that we'd been training for.  The price would go up on May 1, and I had put it off long enough.  We couldn't plan our lives around a baby that most likely is not ours.  I registered at 10:30 p.m.


Tuesday, May 1
 In a funk about not having heard anything yet, yet feeling "free" after registering for the race the night before, I sat down at the computer on my lunch hour and started an outline for my last blog post, "Six Months Already." Tuesday was the six-month anniversary of our "Waiting Family" status.  When I sat down, I intended just to journal about our last six months.  As I began to outline, my "funk" took over and I proceeded to flavor the journaling effort with jabs about the advantages of being childless.  None of which I regret, they're all true feelings that I have, which is why I decided to finish writing and publish it later that night, hours after hearing the news.


The news: Noel called as I had just begun to type.  Simultaneously, my heart beat straight out of my chest, dropped to the floor, and flew into the sky.  I tried so hard to appear calm as I answered the phone.  I don't know who I thought I was kidding.  Noel has adopted before and she knew exactly how skittish I was.  She sounded happy, excited, different than when she usually calls.  And for good reason: she had the most wonderful news.  Elizabeth would be ours.  We had been chosen.

She had no other information at the time and hadn't had much contact with the social worker in California.  She would let us know new information as soon as possible.

We had champagne that night to celebrate.  Tim wanted to go out to eat, but I put my foot down and we ate leftover meatloaf.  We're parents now; we have to think differently about our budget.  And we've got a massive, unbudgeted trip to California this month.


Wednesday, May 2
I started carrying a piece of paper with me everywhere, now ratty, dirty, and smudged with coffee.  I can't shut off my brain, whether I'm working, sleeping, or running.  It's all Elizabeth, all the time.  I need a place to write down random questions, resources I come across, phone numbers, my to-do list.

Tim and I decided that we need a couple weeks before we can travel.  As much as we want to get out there immediately, we need to buy stuff and start lining up a medical team and get health insurance straightened out and clean the house REALLY well for all our guests we'll have once we get home :)  And plan a trip.  And plan a 1-2 week absence from church!


Thursday, May 3 (Elizabeth is 6 months old today!)
Noel called again.  She had a little more information, but not much.  She informed me that the California pregnancy counselor would be starting the Interstate Adoption paperwork right away, hopefully shortening our stay once we actually get out there.  Also, she had a phone number for Dede, the woman that has been caring for Elizabeth since 2 days old.  She gave me this number at 1:30.  I finally worked up the courage to call at 9:30.  Well, that and I had to finish my shift at work, go to Bible Study, eat supper, and pace and hyperventilate for a while.

Dede didn't answer, but her voicemail voice was warm and confident and she sounded amazing.  I told her to call me back anytime and to disregard the time difference.  I haven't been sleeping since Tuesday, anyway.


She called about 11:30 and she is wonderful.  I want to adopt her, too.  But she's our parents' age... so that probably wouldn't work :) She and her husband completely adore Elizabeth and have done a wonderful job with her.  I got to hear her giggling and shrieking in the background as I talked with Dede.  As of her last check-up, she was 45th - 50th percentile in all her measurements.  She already has her bottom 2 teeth! She eats like a pro, just started rice cereal, and will be starting veggies next week after her 6-month check-up. She just started wearing 9-month clothes.  She smiles and laughs all the time and loves to play peek-a-boo.  She loves music, being rocked, and raking her little fingernails over different textures.  I think she's going to really love her soft, fluffy dog-brothers.


Dede also gave me a little background on the birth parent story.  I only know bits and pieces, and don't feel comfortable sharing at this time.  Ultimately her story is hers, but it's now intertwined with ours in the most beautiful way, and I thank God daily that she chose to give life to this precious baby girl.


We talked about all kinds of things for about a half an hour.  Then I woke Tim up so he could share my joy as Dede began to text us picture after picture of beautiful Elizabeth, from one day old to present.  She is completely gorgeous and we are so in love with her already.  I wish I could share a picture today, I SOOOOOO wish I could, but I feel I should clear that with Noel before I put pictures on Facebook or the blog, and I haven't heard back from her. 


I didn't sleep until after 4:30.  After all the pictures came in I was wide awake; it was like 1 in the afternoon instead of 1 in the morning.  So I e-mailed family in the middle of the night to share the news.  I tried to go back to bed about 2, but her smiling face kept running through my mind and my mind was in overdrive.  Tim fell back asleep quickly; I was super-jealous.  Finally about 3:15 I decided to shower so I could sleep longer in the morning.  Then I watched American Idol, ate some strawberries, and FINALLY went to bed for a couple hours at about 4:30.


I guess that's what I get for missing the sleepless newborn months, and the first 2 teeth.


Friday, May 4
Friday was a sleep-deprived, joyful blur as I worked all day and got texts, voicemails, and message after message from ecstatic family members.  On my lunch break I bought some Tazo Calm tea and melatonin.  I had a 12-mile run scheduled for Saturday and needed to sleep the night before attempting it! After work I quick went to Target for some house stuff and was sucked in like a magnet to the clearance baby clothes.  Mom: Elizabeth already has a dress for Jason and Kaili's wedding in June.  Don't buy one :) Other family: Dede has offered us anything we want from Elizabeth's baby gear, so our registry is hopelessy inaccurate.  I'll update it as soon as she and I e-mail about what we will be bringing/shipping home.

Just before going to bed, I texted Dede a couple photos of the nursery, in exchange for all the gorgeous photos she had sent me the night before.  We talked back and forth for a bit, and I got more information on where in California everyone is located, and how much travel we will actually be doing while we are out there at our various appointments. 


Today and Onward
Today I woke up after sleeping like a rock for 11 straight hours (thank you melatonin!!!) not feeling at all like I'm capable of running 12 miles today.  I'm going to try to work it in tomorrow or Monday morning, and just do 4 or 5 today.

I ate a lovely breakfast, downed 2 cups of coffee, and started typing this joyful update for all of you to see.  I am feeling so blessed and excited to share.  I can't wait to hear all your questions and comments.  We are so blown away by God's grace and mercy, and are so excited to move forward with this chapter of our lives.

We hope to travel on Sunday, May 20.  We'll run our races in Fargo the day before, travel home, and fly out the next afternoon after church. Not that we're staying here JUST to run Fargo; we just don't think we'll be ready by the 13th.  And we want to leave on a Sunday afternoon because that allows Tim to be gone for 10-12 days, only needing a guest preacher for one service.  I ran the date by Dede and it seems okay with her, so we just need to know from everyone else involved if that date is practical as far as paperwork and other appointments.  We hope, since the paperwork has already been started, to be home before the end of May.  Our second nephew is due on May 29!!! Gamma and Papa Redfield (as Jacob calls them) are in for a whirlwind week at the end of May! 


We'll be telling both our churches tomorrow after services.  SO excited for that! Those of you St. Paul's and St. Peter's members who read this... guess you got a sneak peek!


We will keep you all posted as soon as more information becomes clear.  I think the blog is the easiest way because I can go on and on and on as I have today... but we'll always link it to Facebook.  We get new details every day, but some of them are cloudy and unclear.  So I'll try to do updates once or twice a week with information that is "solid."


Blessings to you all! God is so good!

Six Months Already?

Can it really be May already? I've been turning the calendar pages, watching the weather change, and getting excited for the season finales of my favorite TV shows.  But MAY? May 1 marks six months since the glorious fall day I drove to the Cities, hand-delivered our profile books to our adoption agency, wrote out a big, fat check, treated myself to a gigantic Pumpkin Spice Latte, and drove home through the gorgeous fall colors with a goofy grin and a song of hope in my heart.  On November 1, we became a "Waiting List Family." That's a BIG DEAL.  That's the point when the phrases "average wait time," "any day now," and "I'm going out of my mind" actually mean something.

I'm skipping over a couple steps in my quest to educate my dear family and friends about the journey of Domestic Infant Adoption.  I've hardly scratched the surface of the paperwork and fundraising and soul-searching we did to get to November 1. But, in honor of today's little anniversary, let's just page ahead a few chapters, maybe peek at the pictures of what the months have been like.

The chapter about the waiting period is entitled "Thankful." Thankful to be done with paperwork. Thankful for the cute little Christmas and Easter and "because-we-felt-like-it" presents that Baby Redfield has begun to acquire.  Thankful for the courage to share our journey with others, which grows each time I post and get blown away by how much our family and friends love us and are praying for us.  Thankful for friends, old and new, struggling with some of the same issues I have, sharing their stories with me and letting me know how much my willingness to share has helped them.  They have no idea how much they have helped me, too :)

So those are the happy days, the "up" days.  These six months have included plenty of downer days, too.  I get pretty mopey from time to time.  And panicked.  And ungrateful.  And I really hate when I get like that, because my head knows that I have PLENTY to be thankful for, even while I sit and wait indefinitely for my heart's greatest desire.  So maybe, just maybe, if I write down some of these "thankful thoughts," I can turn back to them next time I get cranky, and snap out of it a little more quickly.  And maybe, just maybe, some of these "thankful thoughts" can help ease the pain and share a laugh or two with the above-mentioned friends who wait, and wait, and wait as I do.

Maybe a laugh or two from my my already-parent-friends, as well... as they think back to carefree, simpler days gone by :)

November 1 - Thankful for Starubucks and Sleep

Today I am thankful that I can afford Starbucks.  Not every day, mind you.  But more easily than I imagine I'll be able to in a year or two.  I'm pretty stingy about the budget, and I don't see that loosening once Baby comes.  I hardly slept a wink last night, knowing that today I would take this beautiful drive to do this VERY exciting thing that we have been waiting and waiting to do, turn in our books and become a "Waiting Family." It's so lovely knowing that "not being able to sleep" is a rarity at this time. Usually I sleep quite well, thank you very much. And when I have a little trouble now and then, I love that I can turn to Starbucks to help me through it.

December 1 - Thankful for Open Bathroom Doors

Having everyone for Thanksgiving was so fun, and made me really excited with all these thoughts of "by next Thanksgiving..." Shopping on Black Friday and Saturday was really fun, too... I was way more intrigued by baby stuff than Christmas gifts, since I am starting to think about our baby registry.  But seriously, as excited as I am, I just spent four days with an 18-month-old, and I am exhausted.  He is into EVERYTHING!!! For today, I am thankful that I can vacuum up the tufts of dog hair when I have time or when I feel like it, not immediately for fear my child will eat them.  And I don't yet have to baby-gate the entire house.  Or remember to close the bathroom door.  Plenty to be thankful for.

Our sweet nephew Jacob, 18 months at Thanksgiving, literally into everything!

January 1 - Thankful for Easy Travel

I simply cannot believe how loaded down this car was for Family Christmas Road Trip.  On the way out to Wisconsin, we barely had an inch to spare between presents, luggage, and dog supplies.  The trip back was a little more spacious, but not much.  We really love traveling with our doggies, and it takes so little time and thought to get them ready for a road trip.  They sleep the whole way, and we really only have to stop and let them out once between our house and Oconomowoc.  One of these days we're going to need a new vehicle when we travel, to make room for a carseat between all the presents and luggage and dog supplies.  And a U-Haul for the extra baby gear.  And hours and hours to think about and pack every last baby thing we will need while away from home.  Sigh.  Dogs are so easy.

Charlie and Sam love road trips as much as we do!

February 1 - Thankful for Football and Running

The Super Bowl is days away and I still refuse to watch a minute of it.  The Giants and Patriots? Seriously? Barf.  But at least this year I have a choice in the matter.  Next year when, not if, WHEN my beloved Packers return to the Super Bowl, I still may not watch even a minute, because Baby wants to play or scream or eat.  Who knows? How wonderful it is to zone out for an entire Sunday afternoon, knock back a couple beers, and watch hours and hours of football.  And scream at the TV without having to worry about scaring a little one.  Although it is quite fun to make the dogs jump out of their skin when Finley drops a pass.

Also in the past month, we finished our Insanity videos and started run-training again for our races in May.  Tim will be doing a marathon again and I'll be doing a half.  For now, our training runs are not too intense.  But we still have to make the time to run 4-5 days a week.  And come April and May, we'll be running for HOURS on Saturdays.  I often question how this will work with a baby in the house.  I have no answer.  Just keep running and being thankful that, for today, I can do my thing!

March 1 - Thankful for Winter Adventures

We just got back from SUCH a fun vacation up north and unanimously (the two of us and both dogs) declared it the first ANNUAL late-winter trip to the North Shore.  We excitedly called our families and tried to feel out who would be interested in joining us next year.  We thought about a larger cabin for everybody, rather than smaller hotel suites.  Then it hit me, what do people DO on vacation with baby? No all-day hiking in the winter cold, no 10-hour movie marathons waiting out a snowstorm, no grabbing the camera and quick running outside without a thought because something is beautiful, no falling asleep in the jacuzzi, no peacefully sipping lattes and enjoying 30 minutes of absolutely nothing to do. Not if we want to travel by ourselves, anyway.  We will definitely need to bring an army of family along, pack up the aforementioned U-Haul with baby gear, and learn how to "relax" very differently.

Maybe we can still winter-hike with Baby? Probably not for 8 hours, though.

April 1 - Thankful for Airplanes

It took me a while to get comfortable going away on weekends without Tim.  I know he works really hard and needs to get away, so the first year we were here I always felt I needed to stay home with him.  But he understands that I need to get away, and especially once we have kids, I will take off from time to time and go visit the Grandmas and Grandpas without him.  But in these pre-baby days, I am so thankful for the luxury of airplanes.  The price of gas is so freaking high, sometimes a single plane ticket is cheaper than driving a thirteen-hour round trip.  Once Baby comes, it might not be an option.  But for now, how amazing is it that I can fly to Chicago to visit Sara or Milwaukee to get a Jacob fix?

Visiting my dear friend Sara and her family in Chicago in March.

May 1 - Thankful for Alone Time

I have a feeling my posts are about to get much shorter, once Baby comes.  And fewer and farther between.  Maybe not.. I HOPE not... but I just have a feeling.  For today, I'm thankful for an hour of quiet alone with my thoughts, once or twice a month, to share with the world how blessed I am, and how blessed I'm about to become.

Endless Spring

"...I will send down showers in season; there will be showers of blessing." 
Ezekiel 34:26

This year I almost didn't notice when spring arrived.  It totally snuck up on me because we had the craziest non-winter, with regular intervals of spring temperatures and days that I really could have gone for a run outside if I'd felt like braving the Minnesota wind.  We had several single snowstorms last year that dropped more snow that we had ALL winter this year.  The ice went out on big Belle Lake on March 18.  Insane.  Suddenly, in late March, the grass was a beautiful, bright green, I had tulips starting to bloom, and I was eating baked potatoes with chives fresh from my garden.  WHERE do I live again?

With gorgeous green all around me, the bare limbs of the trees in our yard were the only thing that could convince me we weren't involved in some kind of weird government conspiracy theory and it's actually mid-June.  Not a bud in sight.  I found myself wishing, then longing, then getting frustrated... come ON! Everything else is in beautiful bloom! Let's get some leaves on these trees.  Waiting, waiting, waiting... it's like waiting for a pot of water to boil.  Sometimes you just have to step away and let God work His magic.  I managed to forget about the leaves for a few days - and then suddenly, they were everywhere.  Beautiful, pale green buds, gorgeous tiny leaves, and some nice, big, bright green ones that I must have missed blossoming.  God does amazing work in the spring... it's breathtaking out there.

We've been in the "spring" of our adoption journey for quite a few months now.  All the seeds of paperwork have been planted.  Preparations are underway for all the "normal," non-adoptive aspects of parenthood.  We're just waiting for God's gracious "rainstorm," that incredible, heart-stopping phone call that will burst our little family into bloom.  Sometimes I forget that it could happen any day now - the "waiting" is starting to feel normal.  Like this spring... I forget that we're in a transition phase... I keep thinking it's going to be 50 and lovely forever.  But every now and then, a new bloom bursts open, the trees begin to leaf out, and I stand up and take notice.  I remember we're not at the end point.  We're not even at the start line yet!

A dear friend in Wisconsin is going through the same infant adoption process that we are, pretty much on the same time schedule.  She's been such a blessing to vent to about the specific challenges we face as we are shuffled through the steps of the journey.  She shared the most WONDERFUL news with me last week, news that startled my eyes open like a strong gust of spring wind, news that was as welcome as the budding leaves on the trees.  They have been chosen as parents for a baby girl, due in a matter of weeks.  Praise God from whom all blessings flow! What joy for them, their friends, their family! And what hope this brings to me, as a fellow "waiting" mother.  My head knows it will happen someday, it will happen suddenly, and I will experience this joy for myself.  But my heart needs a little reminder, a little jump-start every now and then.  A little bursting bloom of hope.

I know many of you are working through struggles of your own right now... it's probably safe to assume that ALL of you are, in some way.  It can be so hard to go through the daily grind and remember that every day you're making progress, working toward something better, growing into a stronger, smarter, better person... especially if you're waiting for a BIG moment that seems to never arrive.  I hope this tiny budding leaf reminds you that God is always working in your life, slowly at times, but in the way that is best for you.  The big moment will come.  Try to enjoy the little ones, too :)

Popcorn

I know it's been over a month since my last post.  No, I haven't been in a coma, traveling a third-world country, or giving up the internet for Lent.  My heart and my mind have been full of thoughts and emotions, but nothing NEW lately.  That's just where we're at these days - kind of stuck in place, waiting and wishing.  Nothing new to report.

But then we made popcorn last night, and it finally got my mind rolling once again. I fully admit that I might be off my rocker.  I've been a little sick and woozy with allergies.  So bear with me as I attempt to make a correlation between air-pop and adoption. 

No matter how you pop - microwave, air-popper, stovetop, or other - the stages are basically the same.  You start with your kernels, barely a handful.  It's a painfully long wait for those little golden wonders to heat up, mouth watering in anticipation of the buttery goodness.  Then you hear it, that first delicious POP! Seconds pass that feel like days as you wait for another, then another.  In our air-popper, a few unpopped stowaways try to make their way into the bowl before their time. Suddenly POP POP POP POP POP POP POP - you've waited so long, and now you get to enjoy watching the white wave of popcorn roll up from the bottom of the well and erupt into your bowl.  (If you remembered to put out a bowl. I've forgotten a few times. It's frantic.) The wave of wonderful just keeps coming; you wonder how you will ever eat it all... The "pops" begin to lighten, fewer and further between.  The tidal wave lessens to a gentle roll, then to nothing.  Just a few stragglers dancing around in the popper, no intention whatsoever of turning into REAL popcorn.  Unplug.  Butter and salt.  Enjoy.  Nomnomnomnomnom.

So as I was waiting for the fun to begin, the popper "whirring away" and the kernels beginning to dance, my mind wandered to a train of thought from earlier in the evening.  I had gone to the gym after work, come home, let out the dogs, fed them, heated up some leftovers for supper, and rinsed out my lunch dishes in the sink.  The house was eerily silent with Tim gone at a meeting.  When my food was hot, I set up a TV tray in the living room, plunked down, and picked something from from the DVR list to watch while eating.  I felt like a teenager, and mom and dad were still at work.  Come home from school, clean out the lunchbox, do your chores, heat up a snack, and watch some TV.  Really, how much has my life changed since I was 14? Yes, I have a wonderful husband, and a job instead of a Trapper Keeper, but I still really only need to look out for myself.  Am I ever going to start feeling like a grown-up? When this baby comes, and my entire life begins to revolve around him or her, THEN will I feel like a grown-up?

Is there really a magic moment when people suddenly feel they're "grown up?" Maybe my problem is that I think of my parents as "grown-ups," but I don't think of them as "old."  So my perception of "grown-up" and "old age" is constantly shifting to accommodate where they are in life.  Even as adult responsibilities pile up year after year, even as we prepare a nursery and our hearts for parenting, I feel like "being a grown-up" is so far off in the future.

I wonder at what point my mom ever felt like a grown-up? I imagine I'll be getting a phone call or facebook message soon, and she'll let me know.  By the way, Mom, did you notice that I said I DON'T think of you as "old?"

It's hard to say at what point we pour the "kernels of adulthood" into our air poppers.  High school graduation, maybe? The seeds for success have been measured out, we have the tools we need, but no one would argue that we're "done" or remotely close to being "grown-ups" yet.  But that's probably the point that our popper gets plugged in, and society expects that we begin moving toward adulthood.

Of course, it takes a while before anything "pops." Lots of mistakes, goofing around, changing our plans.  Just the slightest little "ping ping ping" as we dance around the popper, resisting responsibility, refusing to pop.  Or trying SO HARD to "pop" and grow up... but we're just not hot enough yet.

That first REAL pop is a shock to the system.  The realities of life come leaping out, like a smack in the face, a shock to the system.  That first piece of actual popcorn is all alone.  No life experience to draw from, no clue how to deal with it.  It's tough.  But it's time to start learning.  Sadly, some people get dealt that first pop REALLY early in life, long before society deems them "ready" to grow up. 

Slowly, the rest of the kernels begin to follow suit.  POP.  You may have had a 4.0 in high school, but you are going to have to work for it HARD in college.  POP.  Meet your future husband.  POP. New friends from new backgrounds and experiences who start to shift your world view.  That and Profe's Spanish classes.  POP. Turn 21.  POP POP POP. Death.  Dear family friends.  People my age lose parents.  People my age even die themselves.  Aren't we too young for this?

Each "pop" seasons" us, hardens us, brings us a little closer to feeling like a grown-up.  Especially the "pops" after college: a real job, a marriage, a lease.  Buying a car, tackling debt, moving, moving, moving again.  One by one, "mom and dad's" bills become your own: cell phone, car payment, insurance, groceries... the list goes on and on.  The popcorn keeps flying out of the popper and into the bowl.  I look at my popcorn bowl of life and realize I've had so many "pops," there's more popcorn in my bowl now than left in the popper.  I'm over halfway there.  Am I a grown-up yet? Then why don't I feel like one?

Is the baby finally going to do me in? I'm sure the loss of sleep and personal space and alone time make me feel PHYSICALLY like I'm a hundred years old... but even then, will I feel like a grown-up? Or will I still feel like a kid... dumbfounded that I have a kid of my own? What will it take? A mortgage? Heartbreak? Tragedy? My own kids turning 18 and pouring their own kernels into their poppers, getting married, having kids?

I am blessed to still have all four of my grandparents alive and well.  This may be another reason I have trouble feeling like a grown-up... very few grown-ups that I know have a full set of healthy grandparents.  They're all spunky, energetic, self-sufficient, amazing.  Just in the past year or so have I noticed my mom's dad starting to have some issues, slowing down, giving us a little scare or two.  Pop pop.  Then they started to come closer together: illness, broken bones, minor surgeries.  POP POP POP.  All of the sudden this last week, he's all I can think about; he had MAJOR surgery last Friday, faces extensive rehab and care in the coming months, and has another separate scary diagnosis we haven't had time to learn anything about yet. POPOPOPOPOPOPOPOP! Once it starts, when does it stop? I'm scared - we all are.  We haven't had to do this yet.  I wonder if, after this last week of watching her dad suffer and her mom sick with worry, my mom feels like a grown-up at last.

I guess there's no magic answer, is there? Just like with popcorn.  You can think it's finally done popping, unplug it, and couple more come flying out after the fact.  We're never through growing up, whether we feel we are or not.  There's always more to learn, more to teach, more to live.  We're not done popping until God says we are.

The beginning of our adoption journey took a while to pop.  First of all, it took us a looooong time to get to the right place and space to make that big decision.  Once we had everything in order and decided upon infant adoption, we filled out our "Preliminary Application" online.  This was a HUGE moment.  It meant the official start of the process for us.  The first fee we would pay.  We each cracked open a celebration beer, of course, and sat down at the computer for a long night of online questions.

Names, address, dates of birth, places of birth.  Date and place married.  Current employers. Religion.  Height and weight. Do you have any physical or mental health conditions? Do you take any prescriptions and what is their purpose? Do you have any children? Which adoption program(s) are you interested in?

That's it.  It took us about five minutes and that included proofing it.  Talk about anticlimactic.  Talk about a TINY pop! And it took Six. Long. Weeks for that little pop to get processed and approved.  Seriously?!?

The bigger pops would follow quickly.  Paper after paper to be filled out, numbers to crunch, deadlines to meet, books to read, references to submit, money to raise, profile materials to prepare - it got crazy for a couple months! I'm excited to share more about that part.  POP POP POP POP POP! That was summer/fall 2011 for us.  It just kept popping! I didn't think my bowl was big enough.

Right now things are very quiet.  Too quiet... I'm going crazy.  I have been for several months.  It's hard to believe ANYTHING will ever happen.  Sometimes I look at my bowl of "adoption popcorn" that we made last summer and think, "This is it.  Time to eat.  All we get is a pretty nursery and a wonderful experience of self-reflection." It's hard to remember we're not done popping yet.  God is still holding our Little Kernel in His hands.  All is quiet, and then POP!

Raise Your Hands

I swiped a piece of choir music from my folder a couple weeks ago.  I slid it into my purse after we finished practicing it, and of course I forgot about it for a couple days.  Thankfully, I didn’t spill coffee inside my purse before finding it; I’ve done that before.  The worst that happened is it got a little wrinkly, so it’s going to get “pressed” tonight between a couple volumes of Luther’s Works.

So why have I begun a life of thievery, looting my choir folder on Wednesday nights? There’s this one song we’re working on and I just LOVE the words and really want to share them with a friend.  I tried to find the lyrics online so I could just send her that, but no luck.  Hence, one dark, cold February night, racked with guilt, I snuck out of practice with the goods in my purse.

(Melissa and Sandy… I have every intention of returning the music tomorrow :)

The words spoke to me from the very first time we sang them.  They’re about thanking and praising God wherever you are in life, whatever you’re experiencing, the highest of highs or the lowest of lows. Some days I’m on a major high when we sing it, so excited about the future, and I just belt it out.  Some days I’m in a major slump, feeling defeated and alone, and my voice cracks and my eyes well up and there’s not a whole lot of volume coming from the alto section.  Some days I’m all over the place, and I’ll be crying the first time we sing it and smiling so hard it hurts the fourth time we sing it.

It makes me think about Job, the guy who REALLY experienced the highest of highs (or so he thought), and then the lowest of lows, and then all he had lost was graciously restored by God and he was blessed even more greatly than he could ever have imagined before.

It makes me think about my amazing husband and the huge blessing he has been in my life.  The “lows” as I searched for him and made some mistakes and acted all high-school-girl-crazy.  It makes me think about my dear friends who are still searching and waiting.  How sometimes during that search you feel on top of the world, independent, invincible, and how sometimes you just feel unbelievably rotten.

It makes me think about the blessing of my parents and brothers and in-laws and my beautiful nephew and all my wonderful extended family and those special friends who understand me SO well, I am baffled that we’re not somehow related.  Sometimes we laugh so hard we cry and our abs hurt the next day.  We say crazy things and share inside jokes and talk in silly voices that only family can understand.  But sometimes we make each other cry and worry and scream.  The more you love, the more you can hurt.  And when one of us is taken away from this earth, it is absolutely the lowest, most awful feeling.

It makes me think about our adoption journey, all the excitement and anticipation and giddiness.  All the impatience and sadness and fear.  Definitely some major highs and lows.  It makes me think about people I know who have had adoptions fall through.  People I know who have experienced the devastating low of miscarriage.  People I know who have ugly, aching, unanswered questions about why NOW is not God’s time for their family to start.

And boy, oh, boy does it make me think about the highs and lows to come as a parent, and countless friends experiencing those now.  From what I understand, and it better be true because quite a few of my hopes and dreams depend upon it, becoming, and BEING a parent is one of the single greatest highs this world has to offer.  And from what I've read in frustrated Facebook posts... what I've seen in temper tantrums at Wal-Mart and in church and at bedtime... what I absolutely know is coming because a) we all have a sinful nature, and b) children are irrational... parenting also offers some exhausted, desperate, puked-upon lows.

It makes me think about SO many things that I am going through, that I have gone through, and that the people I love have experienced.  Life truly is a rollercoaster.  I’m pretty good about praying during the highs and the lows.  My prayer life needs a lot of work when I’m “coasting.” And this song reminds me of that… praise God ALL THE TIME!

And this song REALLY makes me think about my friend, Rachel, who really needs it this week.  She and her husband are prospective adoptive parents, but they’re going about it a little differently than Tim and I are.  They’re providing interim foster care for babies.  Many of the babies will not be up for adoption; they just need a loving, caring home while mom and dad get it together, or as “together” as they need to for the state to allow the baby to come home.  One day, amazingly, God will place a baby in their home that WILL be theirs to keep.  But, like us, they struggle with anxious questions about when that day will come.  And while they wait, they give all of their love and then some to these babies who can only be in their arms a short while, but will be in their hearts forever.  This week, their first baby goes “home.” I struggle to call it “home” because Rach and Ryan have had the baby since he was 2 days old, and before that I’m assuming he was in the hospital.  Theirs is the only "home" he’s known. 

So, Rach, these words are for you especially.  Praise God at your highest… praise Him at your lowest… and know that He will fill your heart and your hands once again.

Raise Your Hands

Words and Music by Heather Sorenson

2011 Hal Leonard Corporation

(I have absolutely no idea what other information about the song I have to include in order to not get in trouble, so I’m going to just roll the dice and go with that)

Raise your hands

                when you’re high upon the mountain,

                and you know that you’ve been blessed.

Raise your hands

                when you start your day with nothing,

                and you end with even less.

Raise your hands

                to the One who gives us everything,

                yet He shines in emptiness.

Raise your hands

                when you’re offering up the sacrifice

                that you want to claim as yours.

Raise your hands,

                reaching up to heaven,

                when your heart’s bowed to the floor.

Raise your hands,

                trusting in the grace of God

                that has carried you before.

I will lift my hands to You, and bless Your name forever.

I will lift my hands to You, and bless Your holy name.

Raise your hands

                when your heart is full of worship,

                and your songs are filled with praise.

Raise your hands

                when the battle ends in victory

                and God’s glory is ablaze.

Raise your hands.

                Let the earth shout, “Hallelujah!”

                and the people shout, “Amen!”

Raise your hands,

                and the hands that have been emptied,

                God will fill them once again.

Raise your hands.