Emotions, Dates, and Other Thoughts

I'd like you to know that this is likely to be the most scattered blog post I've ever written.  There, you've been warned - read on at your own risk.  (and for my grammar friends, please ignore my incorrect usage of commas... and other major errors.  For some reason I never could grasp the whole comma thing)

It is rare that I get coffee, even more rare that I get one at 9pm, so this is likely to only exacerbate the problem of scatterdness.

I often joke, or possibly try to joke, that I don't have much emotion, but infact I think the truth is that I have more emotion than I know how to handle, so I hold my emotions at arms length.  I feel them, inside, but it is hard to let them out.  It is hard for me to show people how I am really feeling inside.  I hope you don't think I mean that I am fake, I mean that sometimes I can't even understand or put into words all that I am feeling, or that my words seem painfully inadequate, or that I want to have tears and I can't seem to find them in me.  I see people with emotion all around me and I feel it, I just have a hard time showing it.

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This week has been full of emotions (and it isn't even over yet!)  Some of the emotions I can't even describe but it was a difficult week.  When we began our adoption process our mind couldn't concieve bringing home a child within 18 months of starting the process.  It just wasn't likely.  In January after recieving our LOA it became a possibility (ever so slight) that we would be able to travel in March, but most likely in April.  Because of circumstances beyond anyone's control - we found out on Tuesday that our trip is now pushed back to May.  This news felt like a sucker punch.  It fell on an already difficult day that was only matched by the ice storm that ripped through our area.  Today we recieved our travel confirmation!  The trip is set and scheduled and we will be leaving mid-May to bring home our son!  The news hits me with two major emotions at the same time, frustration because it was supposed to be April, and excitement that our trip is confirmed.  We're going in May!  We are so incredibly excited! But oh how our arms ache to hold our little boy.

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Early in our adoption process I sat at the table sorting out files and documents and a whole assortment of paperwork.  I am not even sure if we had even decided we would adopt from China yet.  I remember sitting across from Aaron and looking up and saying "We need an adoption doula."  I was so overwhelmed, I didn't even know where to start.

As a Birth Doula one of my roles is to help expectant parents navigate through their pregnancy as well as their labor and delivery.  I work prenatally with clients to practice tools for dealing with the pain of labor, I provide resources to help them make educated and informed decisions during pregnancy and labor, and we come up with a birth plan so they can be prepared for their labor and delivery and the questions that often come up.   And as a childbirth educator I make sure my clients are educated on what happens during pregnancy, labor, and delivery.  I help establish bonds with them so that the birth partner feels included as well.  I give the birth partner important tools to help him feel involved in the pregnancy, labor and birth.  

I often joke that I relate most things in life to childbirth - and it is so true.  I actually saw the face of the laboring woman in the effort it took my husband to put together his basketball hoop.  I'm nuts when it comes to childbirth.  (Consequently, my husband now views much of life the same way too.  I have apparently rubbed off on him.  When we were hiking last fall I came out from a crevice between two rocks to have my husband say "that totally looks like a uterus and birth canal - let me take your picture coming out of it!".... I have ruined him for life).   *If you are reading this for the first time just getting to know me, please don't think I am strange or that I will talk to you about uterus' or show you pictures of babies being born... I mean, I totally would if we were in class together, but I restrain myself for the general public*  - also, I am very tired right now, so my filter is pretty much gone.

Back to my original thought process -

I have been thinking lately about how this adoption process has felt like the longest pregnancy of my life.  How our agency has been our doula, the CCCWA our care provider, and China our hospital.  While in a pregnancy you can choose your care provider (and in some respects so have we), we took great great care in choosing our doula.  We researched, we asked questions, we asked more questions, we hired one and fired one (in a nice way), and we found one we love.

I am so thankful for our agency, they have held our hand and walked us through this process in such an incredible way.  Just like in pregnancy, they can't make all of our decisions for us.  They can't do all the hard work (although to be honest, they do a lot more hard work for us than a doula can for her childbirth clients...).  But they have been our advocate.  They have provided resources and information.  Help when we needed it. They are amazing.

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In following with the theme of equating our adoption process to pregnancy, labor and birth...

In pregnancy you are given a due date, and your baby is born somewhere around that due date.  You get your hopes up and excited and your due date comes and more often than not, baby doesn't.  Moms are frustrated, they're tired, they have these crazy hormones racing through their body as their body prepares to labor and the waiting is just so hard.  Your expectations were set.  You thought baby was coming.

That's kind of how I feel right now.  I knew baby coming early (March) wasn't likely - but I held out a glimmer of hope.  I knew baby coming on time (April) was probable - but I kept a corner of my heart protected in case I was wrong.  And today we got the official news, baby is coming late (May), very late in my opinion.  My heart desperately wanted March or April.

The difference though, and this is what makes it the hardest.  When you're pregnant and waiting for baby, you're still holding your baby.  My arms are empty while we wait.  And that makes me very sad.  Each day he is away is one more day that he grows and his face changes, his personality changes, and we're missing it.

I look at Z and I can see how every day she changes a little bit more and what am I missing?  I know that he is loved and cared for, but I miss him.

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A few posts back (which might be awhile since I haven't been able to post much lately) I throughout the question of why we would adopt when we can't afford it.

It was a hard question to ask because I feel like it deserves an answer.  A few people responded quite encouragingly to us, reminding us of the call God put on our hearts and our lives to adopt.

And I can't find an answer better than that one.  Years ago, before I ever knew that having babies would be difficult for us, my heart was drawn to adoption.  Before I ever met Aaron, I wanted it to be apart of my story.  When Aaron and I were married we always bounced around the idea of adopting a child or children someday.  We didn't even at that time understand what that would look like, or mean, we just knew we wanted to.  Amazing how God can use a little "want to".

I feel the answer to the question is as simple as that.  We know that God has already provided all that we need to bring home our son.  We just haven't seen it yet.  When he opened our eyes and our hearts to be willing, he provided.

Why are we adopting when we aren't incredibly wealthy people?  Because we want to.  Because God called us to.  Because our hearts are forever attached to a little boy desperate for a forever family.  We are his family.  That's the answer.

Will we adopt again? I don't know.  It is hard to think of anything past bringing home Doron right now.  It is hard for us to have any idea what God has for us, because none of our journey has been what we would have pictured it to be.

My greatest fear is that people will think we chose adoption because having biological children is too difficult for us.  No, that's not it.  There are days and moments where I might have felt that that was it - that adoption was easier than experiencing loss over and over again - but deep down, that is not the reason we chose to adopt.

We have chosen adoption because this is what God called us to do.  This is his heart, and he has made it ours too.

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I went to see The Dropbox movie tonight.  I was gripped throughout the whole film.  I felt like I couldn't move, my heart just overwhelmed.  In it was a woman that I admire.  It took me by surprise really, I didn't know she would be in the movie.  Last summer I opened a letter and in it was a picture of this woman holding a little boy, and my heart did a little flip flop.  I looked up and a woman in her mid-60's rode past me on a bicycle.  And I thought 'who am I going to be when I'm that age?'  I was holding in my hand a photo of a woman who has given her life to help the orphans, and saw before me the image of what I thought I wanted for my retired life; to ride my bike through my small town, to worry about my garden, my friends, and my grandchildren.  There is nothing wrong with that idea, but what I really want is to be making a difference in the lives of children who have no one else.

God has given me such a gift with Amariss, Zemirah, and Doron.  I cannnot imagine not sharing the love he has given with so many more children.

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If you stuck through this post until the end, wow, you amaze me.  I wanted to split it up into more than one post, but I am fairly certain (based on my track record) it's going to be awhile before I can put another post together.  Maybe I'll surprise myself, but I haven't been very consistent.

As you can see I have a lot of emotion running through me right now.  And so much more that I just can't share right now.

Thank you for praying for our family, for being a part of our journey.

God bless,

Brie

The last 6 days....

I can't believe that tomorrow marks 1 week since we lost our sweet Isaiah.  Time has moved slowly and at warp speed at the same time.

1 week ago I got the muffle fixed but it feels like months ago.

1 week ago I bought maternity clothes and a blue whale sweater in anticipation that Tic Tac would be a boy. It feels like just yesterday.

Today was similar to last Wednesday, marked with perfect blue skies and warm sunshine.  Only today I could walk to pick Am up from school, and today my neighbor took my girls to the park with her kids so I could have some time to myself.  Last week we all laughed and played together on a blanket under the big maple tree while our 5 year olds put on a play about kitties again.  We talked about Rat's miscarriage (their cat) and I made a gesture and said "I feel ya sista" as a joke.  Oh how true the next day would make that statement.

Thursday was, well, overwhelming.  In every sense of the word.  I haven't yet decided if I'll post the details of that awful morning, from the early morning cramps to the very end just a few hours later.

We were so blessed to spend 2 1/2 days with our sweet Isaiah, memorizing him, holding him, counting his fingers and toes - loving him just like we would any other baby.  Our time with him was just too short.

A few have asked just how we knew Isaiah was a boy, it was quite obvious when he was born.  Although it wouldn't have been visible by ultrasound, there is no doubt about it.

My parents made a quick trip up - I say quick because they left within 1 hr of my mom getting home from work, but the 11 hour trip was certainly not quick for them.  But they came - and they mourned with us.

We had a beautiful service on Saturday attended by just us and our parents.  It was exactly what we all needed and brought healing full circle.  We called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, and were blessed by two wonderful volunteer photographers who came out and took pictures of our memorial service.  They were truly a gift to us as we were able to experience Isaiah's service without thought as to whether or not we would have pictures to remember it by.

My parents had to head back home on Sunday, really - they spent almost more time traveling to get here than they spent here, but I can not thank them enough for making the trip.

These last few days with Aaron back at work have flown.  I don't really know where they've gone.  I know that there are going to be many emotional battles in the days, weeks, and months ahead.

I will begin teaching again this summer, and was hoping to be able to spend an afternoon a week at the pregnancy center.  November will probably be the most difficult, with the elation of Z's birth still pulsing through my veins, my heart will ache on Isaiah's due date more than the others.

I miss him so much already, as I have him pictured as a little boy laughing, running, playing.  I can see him jumping off of furniture with a cape and scaring me with snakes and spiders.

Life is full of crazy ups and downs, twists and turns.  Heartache and joy mingled into one.

I just don't want to.

I'm currently pursuing my doula certification and have a few books left on my reading list before I can say "whew, that's done!"  (the reading part... still have a long way to go on the rest)

Doula certification shouldn't be that hard, if I put my mind to it.  But right now, I'm tired.  I'm a little tired of learning about pregnancy.  I just finished up teaching a series of 6 childbirth classes, my sister-in-law just had her baby (one of the final ones in a string of pregnancies surrounding me), I'm still trying to crochet her a baby blanket, we're supposed to start homeschooling next week, the garden is in full tomato madness (and calling for much cooking of tomatoes!), and end of summer activities are taking up soo much time.

So everytime I sit down to read a book about pregnancy, I just think - ugh.. I just don't want to.  Maybe this one is the kicker... maybe I should just pick a different book to read right now.  I started reading this book the same week I found out I was pregnant with Bunnin.  I was really excited to read a book about pregnancy while I was pregnant (it's so much more fun that way).  But now... my motivation to read this book is like staring at a pile of dirty dishes.  It hasn't started to smell yet, so I probably won't read it till it does. 

The book I'd like to read is one on infertility...but my schedule screams at me that I should read the pregnancy book, so instead, I'm not reading at all.  Which is a bummer, because I love reading. 

Ah, miscarriage - how you shake my stable world.  I'm still getting my sea legs on this one. 

things are changing...

A few days ago, I attended my first birth as a birth doula.  It was an absolutely incredible experience.  You know when God sets you on a path and the steps are small to take you to his full vision and potential, but each step is taking you somewhere?  That is how I feel about this birth. 

Each step is taking me somewhere.  A little over two years ago I became a childbirth educator.  I taught my first class the day after my fourth miscarriage.  Then, I had no idea all that was happening in my own journey for more children.  But even since hitting this hurdle, I've never once questioned my love for the miracle of childbirth.  And after attending this birth, my love is not dampered but increased. 

Sometimes, I find it strange how I manage these two different worlds.  The one where I instruct women on what childbirth is, what to expect, and techniques to manage labor well and now working with their partner to coach them through.  Then the other world, where I rest in the peace that my time will come again but struggle with the unanswered question of when.

I'm not perfect, each day is different.  It seems lately I've been more down about it than I have in the months previous.  I'm not sure if it's because I've given up or if it's just the circumstances that have presented themselves around me make it more visible in my own eyes. 

I don't think I've given up, I think I've given in. 

I haven't given up the dream, nor the promise.  But what was denial for several months, almost a year, has given way to grief.  Is that the right word? 

Is it okay to say that as happy as I am with my job, as happy as I am for my clients, as happy as I am for and with my friends, sometimes I am sad for me?  Is that okay? 

That is how I feel.  I love my job.  There is no other place I'd rather be.

 I just long for the day when I can be the pregnant or laboring woman and someone can doula for me again.