{adoption world vs. onesie world}

today I have just been so aware at how fleeting these moments are.

These days where she has no agenda. No piano lessons, or soccer practice. She doesn’t have to get on the bus in the morning, or go to a friend’s after school.

She’s just here, with me. Asking me a million times “pay toys with me mom?”  

I take photos of her almost every single day. My favorites are just of the ordinary days like today. There is nothing special about today that will stick out in my mind forever, just the sum of these ordinary days that built a week. A month. Another blessed year… of memories that are little, but together make up this season of the firsts in her life.   

the season where is she our only child won’t last forever, and maybe not even much longer. Today it feels like a blessing that I have no choice but to snuggle her longer after her bath, because tomorrow my arms might be twice as full. {Did I just say that I’m thankful for this process? gasp! Adoption makes me an emotional nut; just for the record. But today, I am thankful for slowing down, and enjoying our big girl. Remember that tomorrow when I’m crying and frustrated again, okay Wade?}

I have let myself in the last couple of weeks get sucked into “Adoption World”. It’s a dark and scary place to go… it is not for the faint of heart. It’s the place where worry takes over. Where fear lives. Where frustration multiplies rapidly. Where anger shows up unexpectedly. I let my own insecurities take over, and started to let my mind go down some dangerous paths of:

“we’re not good enough.”
“no one would ever want us to parent their child!”
“We are still $15,000 short of paying for this adoption…where on earth will we get that much money?”
“I messed up our profile book, no one is ever going to pick us.”
“We must have misunderstood what God was calling us to do.”

My stay in Adoption World was temporary.
…when I realized I was living in the process, and not focusing on the goal.

This baby.  
I found my way back into Onesie World: Where I pray and focus on the goal of adoption, and not the way you get there.

(wash and fold newborn onesies… it’s pretty hard to think about anything else)

Onesie World reminds me that I am waiting for our baby.
and you, baby, are worth any amount of waiting.

to be your mom…

is the greatest joy I have ever known. Lately I’ve been worrying.{my most reoccurring sin. ugh!} 
About our future. About the things people say. About the looks I get when we are in public. About how you will handle having another baby around someday. About how your adoption story is going to shape you. About if I am doing enough. About discipline. About you growing up so darn fast.

Twice in the last couple of weeks, someone said to me, “I’m sure you wish you had kids of your own...”

They were in different contexts, and different situations, but the same thing was implied.

that she is not really mine.
or that biological kids would somehow be better?

(I know it was not said to offend me. And honestly, I am not that sensitive. It isn’t for my sake that those comments break my heart.)

 

Sweet girl…  {I pray that you understand this deep in your heart}

You first and foremost belong to God. He loves you more than you can imagine. He does not make mistakes, and you being a part of our family is no mistake.

after that, baby, remember that you are my child. No genetics, no pregnancy, no labor, no adoption, no diversity, no racism, no laws, nothing- make one bit of difference to me.
God chose for you to be in our family. permanently.

I am your real mom. Daddy is your real dad.
(I hear that one several times a week! Where is her real mom? Does she have any real siblings? Do you know her real mom? We say, Birth Mom. or Birth Family.  I have another post on that topic to write!)

Last weekend we visited my sister. They live in a big city. We live in a small town. Larkin is a minority race in our small town, but adoption is so abundant in our town that it is very common to see trans race families. {it rocks!} When we got to the city, that is no longer the case. 

I was pushing Larkin’s stroller around in a department store. She was tired of riding, and I told her she could walk next to the stroller. As we were walking down an aisle, a nice older man coming from the other direction grabs Larkin’s hand.
my heart stopped. and I reach with fury to grab her hand from his.
He says to her, “We need to find your mommy! Uh oh, you’re lost.”.
I am standing right. there. 
I said, “oh she’s mine! She’s not lost.”
He looked up at me, and said, “ohhh, she belongs to you. Well, she’s beautiful”. 

I walked away, and my sister and I chuckled. He was such a sweet old man, and he honestly was trying to help. but those kinds of situations fuel my worry for when she is older. I hate to think that she will have to explain herself constantly. 

I can’t promise her that other people won’t say things that make her upset, or at least uncomfortable. I hate that I can’t stop the world from letting her down…

but I know with all of my heart that she will know the most important thing of all.
That she is loved. unconditionally.
By the Lord, and by the parents He chose for her.

weekend trip

Last summer after my sister got married, her and her new hubby lived with us for several months. Having 5 people in our small house had its moments. Some were good, some were great, some where awkward. Last fall they decided to be rude, and move away. Who needs to further their education anyway? become a Chiropractor? sheesh. Come on.

We got over our grief, and helped them move in September. I told Wade I felt like I was leaving my child at their first day of college when we left them in their townhouse with piles of stuff, boxes, very dirty floors, and newfound freedom.

We planned several months ago to make a return trip to visit. This time taking the youngin along for the trip. She traveled great this time! Thank you movies in the car… (one of those things I used to make fun of people for #suckupyourpride)

Here is our weekend in photos.

Kelsi, you’re welcome for posting this gem. mmmhahaha

my make-up obsessed child was in heaven when aunt Kelsi let her have free reign over her stuff…

shopping, sleeping in, Cinnabon, homemade ice cream, way too violent of movies, hockey games on TV, girl time, more shopping, IKEA, Goodwill thrifting, wall decorating, coffee drinking, me swearing at my husband for making me drive on the freeway, Kelsi and Drew laughing at my driving on the freeway, sharing clothes like the good ole days, lovin on my baby, Mexican food….

same time, same plan next weekend? pleeeeeaasssee?
I miss you sister.

how to potty train a dinosaur

common dialog around here :
big girls don’t go potty in their diapers
we have to use the potty
let’s go on the potty instead of in your diaper

Today in the tub, Larkin was potty training dine-saur.

dine-saur. You big girl. go on the potty, not you diaper!

True story… yesterday she took off every article of her clothing during her nap, and urinated in the crib. At my mom’s house. 

My mom didn’t tell me this fun fact until 10pm last night.
To quote my mother’s text, “What is the poor girl to do when she has to go potty, and can’t get to the bathroom? poor baby!”.

Yea mom. Poooor baby.post bath photo shoot:
the mad face
the winkfish face
I pulled Larkin’s wet, slippery little body out of the tub, and stood her on the rug so I could wrap her up in the towel. I no more had the towel around her shoulders, and I hear something hitting the floor. Yep. Peed again. this time nearly on my shoes.

She is definitely getting the don’t go potty in your diaper thing down….
I just wish I had told her we don’t go everywhere else either.

every step along the way

2 of my babies were supposed to have birthdays this week.

the 3rd pregnancy due date… February 4, 2013
Jude’s due date… February 9, 2011

Besides a causal reminder at lunch to Wade that this was the due date, it hardly crossed my mind this time.
Maybe it’s that multiple losses brings multiple dates… and at some point you just quit counting. Probably though, it is God’s grace that these dates do not haunt me. I do wonder what Jude would have been like as a 2 year old. I dream, with a certainty, of the day I will hold him again. But honestly, these dates don’t even really make me that sad. (anymore)

After my first miscarriage, the weeks hurts. the months hurt. the due date really really hurt. I don’t want to discount that. I watched as everyone who was expecting the same time as me complained about morning sickness, feeling tired, being overdue, and finally watched as they posted their pictures and comments about how beautiful their baby was, and how much love they felt for their sweet little blessing.

What I really wanted to say to those comments was, “I’m sure you do.” 

It sucked. I was bitter, I was annoyed, I was resentful.
sometimes I still am. I don’t even know when it happened exactly, but at some point I gave up.
(I know it was not after my first miscarriage…that was an ugly time in my life)

I gave up my hopes. they weren’t happening
I gave up my dreams. everyone else’s seemed to come true with so little effort

God has worked very diligently on that part of my character. I thank him everyday that He did not leave me in that place of bitterness. He was not content (nor was I) for me to stay in a place that was dark, when our family was supposed to be shining His light. 

My plan was not His plan. 
… and when I realized that (and accepted it!), everything changed.   

His plan was (and is) so much better anyway. It’s easy to say that in retrospect, I know… but I can also say that it has made looking to our future full of hope. I am allowed to miss the babies I do not have with me, and at the very same time be thrilled about the possibility of new ones. Loss and hope can be intertwined… and I honestly was not sure that would ever be a possibility for me.

I knew I would never find real joy in “anything to do with a baby”again after Jude died …
and then I held Larkin for the first time 7 months later.
How could I not trust a God who would GIVE her to me? who would ENTRUST her to my care? How could I not submit to a God who would take all of the hurts that crushed my spirit, and just months later would replace them with the greatest (and cutest) gift in this world? He literally reclaim my hope. 

When I started my blog almost 4 years ago, I chose the title “every step along the way” from Proverbs 16:9 : In their hearts humans plan their course,
but the Lord establishes their steps.

I put almost no thought into the it, but it seemed fitting if I was going to write about what God was doing in our lives. I had no idea how fitting the title would be.
How many wrong steps I would take. How many times God would redirect our path. How many paths would appear before us.  Just how many steps it would take to get there… but mostly, how faithful he would be in lighting that path.

In the midst of missing our babies this week, my mind is so consumed with our next baby.  I plan on writing about our current adoption soon. We have no news yet… but that baby is already building its place in my heart. 

plus, these two crazies can’t wait to be big sisters.

the zoo