Day 28

Once you fall in love, falling out is no where in the realm of possibility. I think it’s true that love can be blind and masks imperfections. But there are two types of love…fleeting and forever. My first true love is unlike any other. I say “is” because I still love him. I knew right from the beginning his love was forever. I cannot explain my heart. All I know to say is that there has been this ever present “knowing” in my life that I am part of a remarkable, unparalleled romance. This romance, this bond, is so unbreakable that it bleeds into every area of my life and has made my earthly romance with Ben a mirror image. My Creator was my first true love. I know that is the Christian “thing” to say, but I mean it. I accepted Jesus into my heart, over peanut butter and jelly when I was three years old. Immediately the Lord began talking to me and showing promises for my life. I grew up in a beautiful, God-centered home that nurtured my desire for truth and disciplined me to be a woman of the Word. Again, even reflecting, I cannot explain the wonder of this relationship. Even through my junior high days, this love existed as a romance. I was forever taken, and trusting God was as easy as breathing. I never had any reason to doubt or question. I took him at his word and considered it privilege that he actually spoke to me.

I remember a playground experience. One of my classmates was telling me that his parents were getting divorced. Growing up in a Christian community, with Christian friends, at a Christian school the news was astounding. Later that day a friend, who had also heard the news, asked me what I would do if my parents divorced. My answer was dripping with conviction, “My parents would never divorce.” My friend blew me off as naïve and told me it could happen to anyone. I don’t believe my stance was adolescent ignorance. I had seen the power of a Most High God at an early age and I knew my family was marked for greatness. We were not your average Christian family, we weren’t. My dad was an extremely devoted pastor and father. He would spend hours answering my many questions, from why God allowed pain to my musings on Revelation. Our Christianity had nothing to do with religion. Our relationship with the Father was alive and I knew in my heart no one(in their right mind) could ever walk away from it—thus my delusion in regards to divorce.

As the story goes, my parents did divorce. It was bizarre and messy, but unlike everyone else (family and friends) my world was never shattered. Don’t get me wrong, it was difficult, but my true love was my Savior. He sustained me and preserved me through what should have been a very difficult time in my life. Through all my years I never rebelled, experimented, or walked away. My conversion was pure, my heart gripped.

Ben and I dealt with infertility for a year on our own before we started getting concerned. The first year I was full of faith—just like every other life experience I had know, God always came through. He was always faithful, always true to his promises. When year two and three passed my heartache was unquenchable. I still believed God would hear my cry, but the daily struggle to walk in faith wavered. This past year, year four, marked the loss of my first true love. There’s a pounding in my heart, a screaming in my head to even write this truth. It contradicts everything I’m made of. I didn’t fall out of love, I walked away. Love always existed, he had been too good to erase lifetime faithfulness…it was the romance that died.

Lord, how did I ever get to this place in my life? Why did I forget? And the question I’ve been too afraid to ask, came out in worship yesterday…Lord, what have I done to your heart? Immediately I was full of shame and racked with guilt. My life flashed before my eyes and I could hardly stand in his presence. Lord, I have not been strong. I have not been faithful. There are no written words acceptable to offer as apology.

Before I could crumple myself into a heap on the floor, I heard the Lord speak one word to my heart…Grace. Thankfulness washed over me in never-ending waves [and again as I write]. Strange enough, I could not remember the definition of grace, but decided I would look it up later and revel in the re-found intimacy of my Savior. I did however go to 2 Corinthians 12:9 and drank in, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

I left worship with a healed heart. What I thought would be a long road to recovery was covered in one spoken word.

Grace. The freely given, unmerited favor and love of God.
[dictionary.com]

Day 25

I wish I would have started blogging my heartache earlier. Over the past several weeks I have been so inspired reading other blogs of women (and men) that have stories that mirror mine. There is such a connection...a knowing, when I read my struggle walked out in the lives of others. I felt so isolated for so long. Who knew online journals could be so liberating?

I eagerly read through the pages of a new found "friend" last night [Glenna] and found answer to a question that has been weighing heavy on my mind the last few weeks: to decorate a nursery or not to decorate. Glenna wrote [first understand this woman's story is so much my own, I related to her on every level]: "I spend a few minutes in this room every day, sitting in my rocker and praying for our baby, the birth mom, and us as future parents. It is SUCH a relief to have hope for our future." That was all I needed to seal the deal. I promplty made my way downstairs where Ben was watching the Pistons game, plopped down, and with full sincerity asked Ben if he would buy me a rocking chair. Now, mind you, the sequence of events made full sense to me, Ben however, responded with "For crocheting or something?" Stunned that he hadn't followed my thought pattern, I had to laugh! I explained that I wanted a rocker so that I could sit in the baby's room and pray. Not quite realizing the impact my simple request would have, he replied with "sure." God, I love him.

I don't care how long I have to walk by an empty room...that room--that chair--that life is going to be bathed in prayer.

So, I'm in the market for a new chair.

Day 24

We were assigned a case worker, today! Yeah!!!!! Her name is Jodi. I started praying for her as soon as I received the name. I can't imagine how difficult her job must be and the severity of some of the situations she deals with. For those of you who don't know, she plays a very important role in our adoption journey. She will be observing and meeting with us during the home studies and in charge of making sure we are placed with the right birthmom. She will also facilitate all interaction with our mom as well as represent our voice during and throughout the placement. I'm not worried about making a wrong impression, instead I'm asking you to pray for her because I'm looking for the supernatural in our adoption experience. Of course, I want Jodi to use wisdom and to be led by the Lord when helping to match us with the right mom, but even more importantly I want her life to be impacted for the better when the process is all said and done.

Lord, I pray that you would give Jodi wisdom and strength...peace and love. If she doesn't know you I pray for an encounter...If she does, I pray a new passion...energize her...fill her...bless her household and her family...protect her...be gracious to her..give her abundant joy.

Day 22

What an exciting day!! I had an extra spring to my step as I dropped off our final application/paperwork to the post office, today! It feels good to have it off my plate. It has taken a few weeks to gather all the required information. I understand the delicacy of permitting a family to raise someone else’s baby, but the paperwork is unbelievable. I was talking to a fellow adoptive parent and they said the paperwork for adoption exceeds (about 4x’s as much) the paperwork required for buying a house!

It feels good to have momentum. Even though our wait could be months (hopefully not years) my heart is so full of hope, my dark cloud has finally lifted. I feel like a new woman—scratch that—I feel like “me” again [same woman]. I have been no stranger to reflection the past several months and I continue to stand in amazement at the relationship Ben and I have. I have read/listened to many testimonials on how infertility rips relationships apart and fully understand why. My heart overflows with thankfulness that our marriage has not only survived…but thrived. I think we would have been ready for a baby years ago…but now there’s no doubt in my mind that we stand on a solid foundation for raising a baby. We’ve had a lot of fun dreaming about everything from names to character traits.

So far, neither of us have a gender preference but all of the names we like seem to lean toward boy! Here’s what we have left to do:

• Read 4 Books (and they’re snoozers!)

• Attend a Trans-Racial Family Seminar on June 2^nd

• Attend an Adoption/Profile Seminar on June 3^rd

• Finish our Profile

• Home Study (approximately 6-8 weeks after classes are completed)

And then the waiting begins!

Day 20

Check this out: "Celebrating Adoption" is a nationwide network of photographers that donate their time and waive sitting fees for families that have adopted..and it just so happens that there is a photographer in our area! The pictures are amazing; I can't wait to make use of their services!

Day 19

He has "stolen my heart with one glance of [his] eyes." Song Solomon 4:9

His hand reaches across the seat to rest on my knee: "Of all the scenarios and situations my life could have played out, I would pick you every time. If I had to choose you, money, being a rockstar, or having the perfect job...you would always be my first draft pick."

I look at him and think, life couldn't possibly get better.

Day 16

So, I've been told that adoptive moms can actually take hormones--and who knows what else--to produce milk so that they can actually breast feed their adoptive child. Ben and I talked about it briefly but both agreed that the process seems way too UN-natural.

The thought of going back on hormones after all the grueling infertility nonsense makes me want to scream "BEEN THERE DONE THAT--DIDN'T WORK--NO THANK YOU!" Going back to Jana Wolff's book...I agree with her--we have come to the same place--I'm tired of making my body do things that it clearly doesn't want to do. On that note, I read a very bizarre story of a woman who didn't want to mess with the hormones so she purchased a "rig" (for lack of a better word) that connected tubes to her nipples and attached to a warm bottle that hung around her neck. She agreed the process was complicated and not something one could ever do in public--but for her the bonding that took place between her and the baby was worth it. I can certainly appreciate her willingness....and even applaud her efforts...but seriously?

I believe that breast feeding is important for health and bonding...but I'm going to trust God on both accounts for our baby