Something hit me this morning and I took it out on Joe. I don’t even know what it was. Maybe sleeping in and missing my work-out. Maybe the fact that we were running late and couldn’t sit for our normal 10 minutes at Starbucks (treasured morning time with Joe.) Maybe it was my tenseness over my new role that was announced at work today. Maybe it was listening to Aaron Ivey’s adoption song on the way to Starbucks. Whatever set me off… I felt bad. Joe didn’t deserve to be the pin cushion for my emotional arrows.
But he was. I was overwhelmed by everything all at once. And one thought led to another and I got to thinking about my frustrations on the way to work.
Imagine co-workers and friends constantly asking about the progress and saying things like: “when is your son coming home, this is so crazy, it’s so wrong.” The emotions those words evoke in me is hard. Just when I have buried those feelings and “let it go” I am again forced to put on happy face and try to explain things in some way that people can understand. But in reality, that is impossible, because really… no one understands why. So these days, I just say “only God knows…”
Imagine coming home night after night feeling like you had so much more to give… We should be playing, reading books, going on walks and giving baths to our son. Instead we try to keep busy with other things in life. But I have said it before and will say it again… for as much as Joe and I love each other, we have had 15.5 years of being together/married and alone with each other… we are ready to have a family. I don’t feel that is an unfair expectation/desire.
And then that thought leads to other thoughts and stirs up the pain & inadequacies I feel about my infertility. Just when I think I have healed those wounds, I find that the salt still stings. And maybe that wound is deep enough where I will never recover. There are a lot of emotions that got swept under the rug associated with my infertility. It is an exhausting compartment; one I don’t like to visit.
Next thought? While I feel young at heart, I can’t escape reality. I am not young anymore. I can look back and remember vivid moments when my mom was 38 years old (I will turn 38 in ~3 weeks.) I remember a night when my parents had received a new gas card when I was 11. Their passcode was 38-42 (my parents ages at the time.) Wow… what it would feel like to have an 11-year-old right now. How different my life would be.
And then there is “fair.” The pain of constant failure with our attempts at a family. And the new barriers of finally getting a son and not being able to be a part of his life. SIGH. I can’t even put this in writing because my parents taught me better… I know life is not fair.
I wish there was a way to have someone who isn’t walking in the shoes of an adoptive parent, feel what we are feeling; to be able to have them turn on an “adoptive parent empathy switch” and have the brain of me for about 1 hour. Then maybe people could see that I am objective, sane, logical, normal. I have a packed life and this doesn’t consume my every hour (remember, this blog is only a fraction of my life.) However, by having my brain they would quickly learn that it doesn’t allow for me to be passive & patient and easily “let it go” for the next 6-12 months. My brain doesn’t work that way… my brain wants to solve problems, create resolution, and search for solutions. My brain logically knows there are ways to solve every problem. If I work that way with day-to-day “non critical” life problems, how can I possibly “shut down” that part of my brain when it comes to my son? The son who means so much to me; the little guy who we have waited for… for years.
But… I have to end on my beliefs. My foundation. My faith. Because in the end, whether or not I have children doesn’t define me. This life isn’t about me. So I have to ask if this adoption journey is more about my relationship with God, than it is about getting SC home and having a family. I know that SC is in a great place… he is actually as happy as a clam (are clams happy?) J He is so well-loved and cared for at GLA… he makes people smile and he is having an impact on the staff and the other kids. He is living his life and having fun! Who am I to say that he would be better off in Portland at this time in his life? A friend expressed the fact that her son is so strong because of his experience in the orphanage – he is a tough cookie and can face anything in life! This… is a good thing.
So what answer am I expecting? To bring him home ASAP? I guess that is all selfish, isn’t it? Everything about that seems selfish as I write this.
So I will close with a verse that has been my favorite for as long as I can remember… it has helped me through a lot of tough times and He has never failed me.
But he was. I was overwhelmed by everything all at once. And one thought led to another and I got to thinking about my frustrations on the way to work.
Imagine co-workers and friends constantly asking about the progress and saying things like: “when is your son coming home, this is so crazy, it’s so wrong.” The emotions those words evoke in me is hard. Just when I have buried those feelings and “let it go” I am again forced to put on happy face and try to explain things in some way that people can understand. But in reality, that is impossible, because really… no one understands why. So these days, I just say “only God knows…”
Imagine coming home night after night feeling like you had so much more to give… We should be playing, reading books, going on walks and giving baths to our son. Instead we try to keep busy with other things in life. But I have said it before and will say it again… for as much as Joe and I love each other, we have had 15.5 years of being together/married and alone with each other… we are ready to have a family. I don’t feel that is an unfair expectation/desire.
And then that thought leads to other thoughts and stirs up the pain & inadequacies I feel about my infertility. Just when I think I have healed those wounds, I find that the salt still stings. And maybe that wound is deep enough where I will never recover. There are a lot of emotions that got swept under the rug associated with my infertility. It is an exhausting compartment; one I don’t like to visit.
Next thought? While I feel young at heart, I can’t escape reality. I am not young anymore. I can look back and remember vivid moments when my mom was 38 years old (I will turn 38 in ~3 weeks.) I remember a night when my parents had received a new gas card when I was 11. Their passcode was 38-42 (my parents ages at the time.) Wow… what it would feel like to have an 11-year-old right now. How different my life would be.
And then there is “fair.” The pain of constant failure with our attempts at a family. And the new barriers of finally getting a son and not being able to be a part of his life. SIGH. I can’t even put this in writing because my parents taught me better… I know life is not fair.
I wish there was a way to have someone who isn’t walking in the shoes of an adoptive parent, feel what we are feeling; to be able to have them turn on an “adoptive parent empathy switch” and have the brain of me for about 1 hour. Then maybe people could see that I am objective, sane, logical, normal. I have a packed life and this doesn’t consume my every hour (remember, this blog is only a fraction of my life.) However, by having my brain they would quickly learn that it doesn’t allow for me to be passive & patient and easily “let it go” for the next 6-12 months. My brain doesn’t work that way… my brain wants to solve problems, create resolution, and search for solutions. My brain logically knows there are ways to solve every problem. If I work that way with day-to-day “non critical” life problems, how can I possibly “shut down” that part of my brain when it comes to my son? The son who means so much to me; the little guy who we have waited for… for years.
But… I have to end on my beliefs. My foundation. My faith. Because in the end, whether or not I have children doesn’t define me. This life isn’t about me. So I have to ask if this adoption journey is more about my relationship with God, than it is about getting SC home and having a family. I know that SC is in a great place… he is actually as happy as a clam (are clams happy?) J He is so well-loved and cared for at GLA… he makes people smile and he is having an impact on the staff and the other kids. He is living his life and having fun! Who am I to say that he would be better off in Portland at this time in his life? A friend expressed the fact that her son is so strong because of his experience in the orphanage – he is a tough cookie and can face anything in life! This… is a good thing.
So what answer am I expecting? To bring him home ASAP? I guess that is all selfish, isn’t it? Everything about that seems selfish as I write this.
So I will close with a verse that has been my favorite for as long as I can remember… it has helped me through a lot of tough times and He has never failed me.
Proverbs 3:5-7
Trust in the LORD with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct[a] your paths.
I know God is working... I believe that with all my heart.
I believe in the sun...even when it's not shining. I believe in love...even when I don't feel it. And I believe in God...even when He is silent.
Oh Jill. I wish I could take away your pain. Your transparency is beautiful. You are hurting, yet you are still trusting God. That is a HUGE testimony of your faith. It reminds me of one of my favorite passages:
ReplyDeleteHabbakuk 3:17-19
"Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
GOD, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer’s;
he makes me tread on my high places."
May God bless you for your love and trust in Him. May He grant you peace as you seek rest in Him alone. May He give you strength as you share your testimony and wait. May He give you joy... indescribable joy.. I don't know how, that's why I can't give it to you, but I know my God and he can give you joy. He hears your prayers. He loves you. He loves SC. He is weaving your hearts together and He is bringing your long awaited son home.
I admire you for so many ways and today for your faith and for your honesty to post this. I know one day is bad, one is good. I know when I "let it out" on my blog I think people will think this is me all of the time, when that simply isn't true. Thanks for saying all of this today as it resonants with me and brings some peace and understanding to my heart.
ReplyDeleteI don't think God is totally silent..just not always saying what we want to hear yet...because we are human...and struggle.
love you lots!
C
This post is so beautiful! You are courageous to be so nakedly honest both with yourself and your readers.
ReplyDeleteIf I may comment on what you were saying about kind of defending your strong desire to bring SC home coming from a logical problem solving type of mindframe. Maybe that's part of it, but it's just 100% unnatural for a Mom to be away from her child. And that is why I agonized, and maybe why you are too?
Also, I totally agree with the person who said their child was strong b/c of the orphanage ... wait ... was it me who said that? Lol! I guess it probably was. But just today we were at the park with a bunch of downtown LA parents and their 2 year olds and they were all worried about their kids falling and bumping stuff. There were a few times when it looked like Luc might bump his head and Reed and I just stood there watching figuring 1. it would make him more careful next time and 2. it would make him stronger. All the other parents were rushing him "Oh be careful Luc!" I actually had to start asking them to let him fall or bump his head. I'm not raising a wimp. And GLA really set us on the course to raise a strong independent curious man.
The wait is horrible and scarring and I shed some tears over it just yesterday. However, I am so so so glad my son had to endure those 2 years because it will help him for the rest of his life.
GLA give the kids the freedom to become who they are rather than mimicking who we indicate we want them to be.
Jill, it's amazing on the other side! I never thought I'd be thankful but I think I might be a little thankful, not for the pain, but for the silver lining.
Long comment. I'm done. Should have sent an email instead.