Adoption

Every day on my mind.
Two beautiful children who we so desperately love without hardly a hint of knowing who they are.
It has been over 9 months since our dossier was accepted into IBESR.  9 months of not knowing how long it would take to get the kids' dossiers done.  Not knowing when we started, that it would take this long.  We just didn't know that it "should" only take 3 months or less.  We didn't know the creche as relicensing and that was taking too long.
The most frustrating part of this entire process to date, is this.  We don't know.  We trust the people to do the things the people need to do to make this go.  We wait, patiently impatient, to hear what the next step needs to be, the next payment due, the next...but knowing we "should' have been well beyond this point months ago is hard.
Always, I think, God's timing.  We have to trust that or this becomes a struggle against institutions and organizations and a roller coaster of mind numbing emotions.  I am so thankful for the peace throughout.  It has been pervasive and constant.  God and I have daily conversations about those babies who are no longer babies who we love so much.  Protect them, prepare them, show them Your love so ours can be shown.
All that and also, this sucks.  It just does.  No one can speed it up or make it move at the speed we want.  We are trusting that we aren't ready yet and neither are they.  Something is still needed in preparation for them and for us.
We carry on...

To my younger self

We passed 17 years of marriage last week and I've had a few conversations lately about relationships and marriage and it's made me think about my 19 year old self who married this boy who was her best friend and loved her and she just didn't want to be away from any more.
I won't pretend to know a darn thing about someone else's marriage because I am certain no one really know what goes on between two people who have decided to spend a lifetime together.  But, I can speak to our marriage and I can speak to the girl I was 17 years ago...

To my 19 year old, newly married self:
This is gonna be fun.  Truly. You won't believe the joy you will find in being married to Chad.

You will be lonely. Terribly so. Sometimes with him right next to you.

You will have to say goodbye more often then you can imagine.  Some of those good byes will be for a day, but some will be for weeks or months and they will be gut-wrenching, but you'll make it through them all.

You will have babies early and often these first 8 years.  Hold on. It will be mind-numbingly hard, exhausting and exhilarating.  You will wonder simultaneously what you're doing and what could you ever be doing that's better then this.  You will miss it.  Everyone will tell you that and they aren't lying.

You will make some of the most amazing friends.  Friends that will see you through some of the hardest months of your brother dying and Chad being on deployment.  Friends who walk with you through having babies early and often and all that comes with that.  Friends who will rally around you when you start a business and when you start an adoption.  Friends who help you weather drama, trauma, and difficulties that come along.

You'll carry some resentment for a long time from those early years, raising babies alone so often. It's going to make sense some day and you'll know you were never really alone. Those early days will shape you, make you more compassionate, more understanding, and resilient.

You won't believe how much you can love a teenager.  They are this magical combination of youth, and goofiness and adultness and confusion.  They will challenge you in ways that an infant never could, but they are so very fun and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

You will find yourself in a profession that was never on your radar, doing things every day that you never thought you would or could do and you'll love it.

You will one day be sitting in your living room wondering how you got there.  You'll wonder about the choices you made even when you didn't feel like you were given a choice.  You'll be amazed at the choreography of your life and be so very thankful for it.

You'll look back the winding road to this day and be genuinely excited about the winding road ahead because if nothing else, this life with this man and these kids is always an adventure and you sure do love an adventure.

Simultaneous

It's quite difficult to pick up and write again after such a long hiatus.  I have spent the last year convinced that no one truly cares what others have to say.  We just want to make our point and walk away with it.  It's been a period of so much talking and so little listening and adding my voice to the noise seemed silly.  When things get loud, I tend to pull back. 

I don't know why I'm writing now, except I want to put thoughts down so I remember this time.

It's been a year of simultaneous.  I have felt maybe more then ever this overlapping of emotions and have been trying to make peace with that.  

Our life is noisy.  Not necessarily in the volume of our home, but in the volume in our days.  There is so much volume and my mind gets noisy.  It bounces from one space to the next.  One task to the next.  We pass on information and forget to pause.  I have forgotten this past year how much I need to pause, not to listen to others necessarily, but to hear my own heart.

  

Here is where the simultaneousness of our life has raged...I love our life.  It is so full of so many fabulous things.  Our business is growing.  Peace about my role in our business has settled in. We are surrounded by wonderful people on a daily basis.  Our children are healthy and happy and growing. In all the world, I still consider Chad my best friend, biggest cheerleader, and greatest love.

And yet...I am sad sometimes.  Profoundly. It's not a depressive sadness(I know that feeling).  It's these feelings of being both so thankful and content, yet missing a different path or place or people.

I miss Haiti.  I am so drawn to people who are doing meaningful work there.  I miss the ocean.  My mind always quieted next to the waves.  I miss God.  He's still there, but I've wandered away in the noise.  I think I miss myself...she retreated somewhere.  I don't think she is the same person she was a year ago, but I don't know, yet. 

Can you be both happy and sad?  I am.  And it's confusing. I don't want to change my life, but I do wonder how it could be different.  I'm excited for the direction our life is taking.  Our adoption is moving closer and more then anything my heart wants to be on the other side of it.  Our business is growing and we have dreams and plans for it.  Our children are showing themselves to be really amazing people, despite or because of us(I'll always argue despite of us), or well, both, simultaneously.  Despite the noise, Chad and I still manage to like each other often and love each other always.
So, I sit with all of this and wonder how I can be both happy and sad?  How can I both love the life I lead and look for a life that's different?  How would it be different?  Chad has asked me that and I'm not even sure.  Haiti, always.  If I was free, I'd go.  But I'm not and that's ok, but it hurts a part of my soul.  The ocean calls, but I'd want to take our life here with us, all the people...  

Simultaneous: existing, occurring, operating at the same time. Concurrent.