Sometimes, it makes no sense though...

I'm a thinker. I think you know that by now. And I think...

"It doesn't matter how much I know about who God is in my life right now. I have to become immune to the stuff that wants to bring me down and trust."

I posted not even an hour ago (maybe it was more, enough time anyway to wash my floors and clean the bathrooms in the between) about how "it's in the knowing". And not even an hour later, stuff creeps in that forced me to fight to keep the stiff upper lip of hope that I have right now. I wish this was over, actually. I wish these feelings would be all wrapped up in a tiny bow and put away, never to be opened again. I wish my hormones (right now, I'm blaming alot of things on my pseudo-hormones that have come via the Lupron shots) would balance out so this foggy, just enough energy to get by, feeling would go away and I could think clearly again. I've taken to not speaking much in my home or otherwise because I honestly don't trust right now how I think, and what I will say.

It wasn't even an hour ago my determination to be hopeful and positive and gracious and at peace won. And now, there's all this other "I don't know what" to work through. It happens you know, when you stop being distracted and do something physically that actually allows you to think about what you really should be thinking about and it floods in, and now I don't feel as strong.

I really would deeply desire, if I had my way, to not let anyone know that there's even anything going on. But my eyes, and the weariness in them, gives me away every time. I hate that about me. Feelings on a sleeve, that's me. I cry and I don't want to. I snap and I don't want to. I am sometimes not gracious, and sometimes, yes, I don't know how to reconcile all that I know about who God is in my life, with this that I'm going through right now. It doesn't make sense to me that I could be obedient to Him ~ or at least the best I know ~ and still, I go through this. I can go through the whole analogy (that on a good day I believe!) that this is about building my character as much as I would allow it. And then I think "don't I have enough character already?" Apparently not. So here I go, gritting my teeth, wishing to curl into a ball in my bed and sleep until this is over.

But I can't. I'm a Mom. A wife. A friend. A daughter. A sister. An aunt. A daughter-in-law. A teacher. A pastor. I can't do that because I have a life to live. And I guess maybe that's what it is all about. I'm here for a reason, and even if I have to grit my teeth through it all, I'll do it. And pray that my character will be made full and whole and wonderful through this whole bloomin' thing. And trust in that God who know All Things, and has my best interest at heart. And not be concerned with the rest.

This all doesn't make sense and I want to make my confusion very clear here. I am angry and I don't know how to get out of that feeling of "I don't deserve to go through all of this"... but I know that won't get my anywhere. So I keep moving through the nonsense and hope in the end, there will still be hope, that the fog will part and maybe, just maybe it will make sense then.

It's in the Knowing.

It's cold. And rainy. And everyone seems to be freaked out by the possibility of the flu. We are warm and safe at home, and calm in the face of all the health stuff going on around us.

I'm tired. And overwhelmed. And I can't do anything else but put one foot in front of the other at times. But I live in peace and grace, and hope while facing hard things that I don't want to face.

I'm determined. And trusting. And I know that I know that I know that God is taking care of us, even as there is so much uncertainty right now.

I can't help it. I know.

I know that God is in control even when life swirls.

I know that God is the Great Healer even as I face an unhealing right now.

I know that God is God and I am not and I'm better off not spending useless energy trying to figure out why His best, and getting there, sometimes hurts.

I know. And there is peace and hope in the knowing. I don't know how, or when, or why (wow, do I wish I knew why sometimes), but I know the Hand behind it all.

And right now, that is enough for me.

I've been trying to decide what to do with this...

this blog. This blog has been here for me through all sorts of stuff in the last nearly five years. I don't want to let it go. I know not very many people come here anymore, but this place means something to me. It is a pouring out kind of place for a person who needs a place like that. I don't have alot of people in real life with whom I know that I can pour it all out. Not that I don't have good people in my life, and I know some would be very hurt by that statement, and maybe I'll overcome it someday but right now, it just feels like there's so much... with adoption, infertility, ministry, mothering while being a minister... that is simply unique.

And right now, I'm really focused on a very specific journey of healing, this time physically. I would love to be able to share on it the journey I'm on right now but somehow it doesn't seem right here. I want to guard it in another place because... I don't know why... just because I guess. I feel vulnerable. I feel like in dealing with all that I'm dealing with, and the feelings, thoughts, frustration that go with it, well, I feel vulnerable on being judged because yes, I have many blessings in my life. I do. I know I do. And I guess what it comes down to is that, in the end, I don't want to have to feel like I have to say that every time I write something hard or sad or painful or whiny or angry or that shows my discontent with my present ordeal. I come by that feeling... that judged feeling... honestly, since not here, but in other important places in my life, I have felt judged because there are times that I don't deal well with my present circumstances and I have to have a place to put it, and people see that, and they want to tell me how to think and feel and be... and I can't be that way right now. So here I am... the dilemma.

The bottom line is that I'm on this final journey towards closure where my fertility is concerned. Any minute now, possibly, the nurse will be calling to schedule a hysterectomy, which will signal the beginning of the end. And I am in pain over it. I really don't want to be. I'm completely flummoxed by how painful this is because I've done the work, oh have I, to come to terms with barrenness and how it has affected how I see myself as a woman. It's painful. It's personal. It' s scary. It's sad. It's overwhelming. I'm angry. And frustrated. And taking it one day at a time.

And I know I am blessed... I know I am. I know I don't NEED my uterus to be a whole woman. But I do need this time to grieve this loss... this ending... I need space to embrace the sadness that even in this moment, makes my eyes hurt from holding back the tears. I guess I'm just that way. But as shocked as I am by how I've felt having made this decision, I know it is something I have to go through. I don't understand why this has been my given lot in life, and I dare not ask the "why" question because in the end, the answer doesn't matter. What matters is that I make it through and on the other side, see. See. See health and wholeness, and growth in my character that has happened as a result of many of the desperate experiences of these last several years.

So I really don't know what to do here. I'd love to get back to posting sweet things my kids say and recipes and memory lane Mondays, and stuff on adoption on a regular basis, but I can't really intersperse that with the reality of my present experience, which at this point, takes all my energy so that my emotions and all the physical stuff (I'm on a med that is wreaking/will wreack havoc on me physically and emotionally) don't affect my precious children, my dear Hubby. It takes all I have right now.

So I don't know... I don't know if anyone even wants to hear about this journey, the ending to the hope of someday, healing from this infertility, the hope I've carried in my heart for a miracle, that I have believed until October 5 when I took the step of taking that first shot to prepare me for the surgery. That is over. I have to find a way through this next part. I don't know... I just don't know...

Open Adoption Roundtable #4: Small Moments brought to us by openness

I'm way past the deadline for this one, I couldn't resist sharing some of the small moment(s) that open adoption made possible. I truly believe that, like in most of life, it is the small moments, small things that make life worth living. And the writings of many of those from all perspectives of open adoption show once again, how the hard work of open adoption makes these small moments possible. Many good reads on this roundtable. It sure was inspiring for me.

We've had some amazing developments in the open adoption with Bug's first family. Through hard circumstances, her sister Shari was placed in an adoptive home with Coley, her new mom. I truly believe that God answered a prayer of mine... that is, that if Shari had to be in another home, that her new family would desire for Bug and Shari to know each other. And I couldn't have asked for a more open situation, so many possibilities that lay before us as we make way for a hopefully healthy and full relationship between these two sisters, a relationship that in the end, both our families hope will include Bug and Shari's first mom and their other sister Ann (and a new niece, Ann's daughter) someday. We can hope...we do hope. But for now, it truly is the small moments that wouldn't happen for my Bug except that we've remained open to the possibilities of relationships with her birth family.

The small moment for Bug that came to mind was this summer, riding back from the lake. I turned around from my seat in the front of the van, just for a moment, to glimpse two beautiful girls riding together way in the back, heads thrown back, laughing... wide mouthed, eyes closed, pure joy laughing. I don't know what was so funny, but their laughter...their together laughter... brought immediate tears. If we hadn't worked hard on openness all these five years, Bug would have missed out on that day of playing in the sand, and a picnic, and ice cream. But more than that, she would have missed out on a moment of laughter with a sister she loves.

Sadly, for Si (and it makes me incredibly sad) we're at a standstill when it comes to contact with his first mother and his brother. I fear that maybe the one and only time we've visited so far, now over a year ago, will be the one and only time we visit...period. I hope not. I don't understand why his first mom wants to sever ties when we have been so open about the possibilities of having her in our life. And I often wonder what it would take for a mother to say "I don't want to know him" when "him" is such an amazing human being. But I will respect her wishes. But that means our small moments are limited.

But they still do exist. The one moment from our visit last August is still etched in my mind. And we have a picture of this moment too. It happened while Si was literally chasing his brother ~T~ up a climbing structure at the park. And ~V~ like any mother would stepped in to make sure they both got up to the top okay. And her smile at watching her two sons do that together, well, I saw it. I saw the joy in her smile and sadness in her eyes. And I knew then, that she loves them both, regardless of the things she has said in the past about why she placed Si with us. I know she loves him and from that small moment, I know that regardless of whether or not we get to see them again, I can tell my sweet little boy Si that he has two moms that love him in their own ways. And that is enough. It has to be enough. That moment is enough.

There are so many more moments I would love to share... maybe someday... but what a sweet trek, to remember that even though it is sometimes hard, you glimpse family in open adoption in a way that you don't anywhere else. And that alone, makes it worth it for us.

What I learn from him and her.

I watch her reach out to a classmate who stand on the sidelines at recess and remember how important it is to befriend the ones who are scared to reach out or just don't know how.

I wait for him to kiss my nose (over and over! And he does!), and my cheek and my eyebrows and I realize how needy we all are for unconditional love, and the sweetness of the touching connection.

I hear them humming to the music ~ or singing at the tops of their lungs ~ as we drive down the highway and wonder how to get back ~ work towards finding ~ the lightness of heart that comes with a young spirit.

I see him, head thrown back, eyes closed, smile wide, spinning on the tire swing and long for the moments when tummy is full of butterflies because life is so fun. I long for that spinning, breeze in the hair feeling...where is it hiding?

I feel her hair against my neck as we rock ~ her legs folded to fit on what feels like my shrinking lap as her body stretches ~ and think I should stop the hurry and live in the quiet moment more often.

I smell the sweet scent of freshly washed boy as we read bedtime stories and it hits me that these days will end, and I must, in spite of the struggles of helping him grown into a young man, bask in each and every one.

I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the responsibility of being their Momma, but sometimes when I stop and think about it, here I am, learning from them... how to love, and be loved. How to live and let live. How to make the most of each moment. How grateful I am to know these little ones, for the privilege of being their Momma.

Open Adoption Round Table #6: On Names and naming...

I'm so late with this. I was on a self/life-imposed blogging hiatus through much of the summer. But I wanted to catch up on these roundtable discussions so I'm starting with the latest, thanks to Heather who has a way of getting us all talking about open adoption. The question this time is this...

Write about names/naming and open adoption.

Naming is by far, one of my favorite topics. I've been obsessed with names and finding the perfect one long before I was privileged to consider adding kiddos to my family. I love when names seem to fit together in a family situation, that it seems someone has put loads of thought into what the kids are named. It was a big deal for me, and a huge coping mechanism during the wait for our children to come.

But as we started to focus on the possibility of open adoption, we realized that we (read:I) needed to learn that like everything else that changes when you consider adoption, this may not be just my decision, and I needed to hold on to my desires very loosely in order to include our children's other families in on the decision.

One thing we didn't want was to have our child's name changed on their birth certificate. We hoped that in the end, we would be able to agree together at the time of placement what the child would be named, that it would bring us together as our child's parents (all of us!) rather than cause division. And in the end, that was one of the truest ways we found to come together... in the process of naming.

We also wanted the name to mean something to all of us. We chose to name our kiddos with three names, one for each of their families... first, Hubby's, mine.

With Bug, we decided on a name shortly after we started waiting for her. So for 13 months we had this beautiful name picked out and hoped we would be able to use it. We never decided on a boy's name so her being a girl was a real bonus. When we got the call about Bug, with the agency on the line wanting to know if we wanted to meet ~K~, I caught my breath when I realized the name we have loved for over a year was a form of ~K~'s name. Could it be??? And when we met her a few days later, just 48 hours before Bug was born, ~K~ was breathless too with the idea that we had chosen a name that so closely resembled hers. And that became our Bug's name, along with a second name after my paternal grandmother and a dear friend who is like a second mother to me, and a third name after Hubby's maternal grandmother. She has a beautiful name that honors all her people, and means "perfect gift from God". And she is.

For Si, it was harder. We had decided on his first name between us (and a girl's name too...) and knew that his second name would be his Daddy's/Hubby's first name as is tradition in Hubby's family. And the third name we hoped to be after birth family. When we met Si's first parents, and had this conversation, it was interesting, as his first mom had decided what her DAUGHTER would be named, and I must admit, that I didn't know if I could take naming a daughter what she had chosen. And it became clear to me through that conversation, that I needed to hold loosely to this whole possibility, because this expecting mom was adamant which made me feel that maybe, if this child were a girl, she wouldn't become our child. Si's first mom didn't have much interest in naming a boy (she was already parenting a boy) but thought the name we picked would be fine. It was all quite weird (for lack of a better word) but we moved forward. Si's name ended up being one that honors all his family, with choosing his third name to be his birth dad's middle name, which was also a form of my paternal grandfather's name. His name means "twice beloved FIRE of God"... and it fits him perfectly.

Realizing.

Sometimes you just have to grow through stuff. And admitting it doesn`t mean the blessings of life are any less real. Or that there isn't grace and hope to get you through. But sometimes, you have to go through stuff. And it's okay. It will always be okay. At least that is what I've decided. I mean, I've been through alot of stuff and I'm doing okay. I am. Right???

Sometimes you don't realize how you'll feel until you've been there. I never understood my Mom and her deep desire...deep need, to know I was okay. To check up on me if though I'm grown and married and with a family of my own. But I can see glimpses of it now, as my Bug is in school and I miss her and often through the day, just want to call the school and say "can you stick your head in MissB's Kindy room and make sure the most beautiful little girl in that class is doing okay?" I see it now as I have to decide to send my three year old to school even when he doesn't want to go, or doesn't feel 100%. His tonsils are wreaking havoc on My Little Man's spirit and again, no one will do anything about it, except to say "keep living your life and when he's old enough we'll do something". And I just want to swaddle him in his cow blanket and rock him and make the world go away for both of us, because that would be easier than helping him learn that sometimes you have to go through stuff. So I get it now, Mom. I get why you need to hear my voice sometimes. But just so you know, I'm not avoiding you at all, but sometimes it's hard for me too, to hear, to stop and realize that you all are living your life without me there. You're having BBQs and going to football games and nephews are finding their loves and I'm not there. You're knowing your other grand kids in a way you'll never know my kids and I know that's my stuff...my choice, but sometimes it hurts to know that much. It's easier not to know that stuff.

Sometimes you realize though, that you'd rather know and love, and feel the ache, than to not care at all. I have to admit that this whole "Bug goes to Kindy" thing has been even harder than I thought. And as I told a friend this morning... a dear friend who just sent her firstborn to college... who is having an incredibly hard time with that... I told her that it would be even more sad if you didn't cry, or sob, or feel loss, or wish that he was closer, or want your baby back. You see, for awhile this summer I thought something was wrong with me, with my nausea that built up every time I thought about Bug in school, away from me all day long. I thought that because there were people around me who were wishing their summer away, wishing the days...moments...away and I was all about sucking up every moment. What was wrong with me that I wasn't wishing school would start? We are adjusting, now two weeks in, but I still hate the idea of her being away and she is safely (right now, kindy is pretty safe...grade one is not freaking me out!) in her class and loving every minute a five minute walk from here. But I still hate the separation. And I hope I never STOP hating the separation from her or from Si ~ just like my Mom hates the separation from me ~ even as she goes through school...to college...gets married. My own brother doesn't seem to miss the rest of us. He doesn't seem to hate the separation. And sometimes I have to work really hard not hating him for not missing us. So as hard as this is, I would rather have wracking sobs for my child whom I love and hate the idea of being away from, then not feel anything at all. I would rather feel this every day than not miss her when she's not with me.

Sometimes you realize too, that not very many people get your stuff when they haven't been there. There's something to be said about this journey to finality where my fertility is concerned, that it's unique just in the fact that it isn't my decision to just have two kids...I would have loved number three (or four or five even!). It's unique by most standards in that, my losses seem compounded by the fact that I'm losing physically yes, but I'm also losing the dream of having more kids. In some ways, I can't wait for there to be closure, but I am surprised by how strongly the emotions of getting there are. This last cycle has made me more sad on so many more levels that I was prepared for. I have a strong belief that God is only interested in Good in my life, and that this whole journey...yes, even this latest impending loss...is a part of the Good. I believe that to the core of my being. The loss is a part of the good. It doesn't make it easier realizing that though. And that is why I so strongly believe in the very first statement of this post. Yes. I know I am blessed. And I know that God is good. And there's grace that has gotten me this far. And hope that will get me all the way. But I still have to got through the losses along the way... missing my kids as they venture into independence (as it should be!) and grieving the loss of what might have been. It's all a part of the journey and I have to face it. I will face it. I will walk through it, maybe not that bravely...maybe with a lot of tears and fighting the reality, and being angry and...maybe with a little peace mixed in because I know that this is more about me walking through it, then how it will all end. And I can't expect anyone else to understand any of this. Unless they've been there of course. And I need to stop caring whether or not other realize the pain of this journey and just be grateful I am alive and blessed, and walking and God is building my character even though there's a whole lot of other things I'd like to be doing right now.

Sometimes you realize that life goes on and you better keep up with it, even if you're limping and fighting back tears. I don't want to miss a thing. I want to feel and live and love and embrace and grieve and be. I want to invest in others, and challenge myself and take every opportunity to speak truth to those God puts into my path. So if you see me limping or tearful or whatever, you can ask me like Si always does "Momma (well, you don't have to call me that!!), you crying?" and when I way "yes" you can say "Are you happy or sad?" (because with Si, he not gets that sometimes tears are good) and I will answer. Or you could walk on by knowing that sometimes you have to go through stuff and that's okay. It will always be okay.

Picking up where I left off...

So much as happened since I last came here. It's been weeks. Both kids have started school... a kindergartner and a preschooler now. They both love it. And life has reached a whole other level. I miss the mornings together, not running out the door to get here or there on time. I've started teaching one night a week. It's basically volunteer ~ training those considering vocational ministry as well as lay leaders ~ although there is a small stipend included. I love it, but wow, the work, added to the rest of our schedule makes life a whirlwind.

Add in a overly abundant garden and a good dose of pickle ~ relish ~ jam making and freezing food for the winter, and renovations (yes, again...) underway, and leading a Bible study and trying to still have fun with my kids and keep the house livable, well, writing, which I love, comes about tenth, sad to say. I miss it. I take time every once in awhile to read the blogs of people I follow and think "how do they do it?" I wish I could. Maybe someday.

Life here is good. I had a thought yesterday, just a 'cross your mind' kind of thing as I sat at a stoplight on the way to yet another medical test (I'll get into that in a minute), tired as I was I thought "I would be so much happier if..." and I didn't even complete that thought because you know what? IF our house was a little bigger or at least renovated as it needs to be to function at its best...IF my health was perfect and I wasn't in pain or need to lose 10 pounds... IF Si didn't struggle so...IF we had more moneyand Hubby didn't have to work so hard...IF I could find a source of income that fit with the rest of my schedule...IF... IF... IF... all those IF's would not make me happier. They would make life easier, but I'm pretty happy as it is. I keep reminding myself of the blessings that overwhelm me. I have a house. I'm not terminally ill or anything like that. I have two beautiful kids and a loving husband. My life is good...and I am happy... and grateful for it all. I hope things slow down to a manageable pace where maybe, just maybe I could put more time into things like writing (I so want to write for a living! Will that happen?) but for now, I accept the fact that this is life, and I will take it one day at a time and trust everything else, one day at a time, to the One who knows our future. And enjoy today.

Speaking of today...it includes washing the van, making two plum crisps for potluck tomorrow, and company tomorrow night. Laundry. Studying for my class. Playing with the kids in the backyard on the unseasonably warm day. Figuring out what to do with all these cucumbers. Washing the floors, and cleaning the toilet. That's my Saturday. And I rejoice in it.

I have to update a bit on my health... I had an MRI mid-July that wasn't difinitive so the doc decided to try a cortisone shot. It didn't work. We're back to square one. There is evidence of a stress fracture at the site of my old break from three years ago. But I can't get back into see the doc for another month so again, I'm waiting. And managing my activity so I can manage the pain. I can still walk, and do what I need to do. Things could be worse. I just hope there's a solution somewhere down the road. Praying that it is so.

As for the possibility of hysterectomy, I finally, after almost five months of waiting, had my ultrasound yesterday. I see the gyn surgeon on Thursday. I admit I'm grieving, although no one would be able to tell, except Hubby and well, maybe the ultrasound tech. She was quite sympathetic and I appreciate it when a health care person stops a minute and says "I'm sorry". This is not how I thought our journey trying for a pregnancy and hoping to experience childbirth would end. I have always hoped and believed in a miracle, that God would make it happen for me like he did for Sarah and Rachel and Elizabeth...and so many others since. But once again, I am on a journey of trusting a God who loves me, who desires my good, even when things don't turn out how I thought they would. But barring anything else, I am heading towards a hysterectomy possibly as early as early January. The wheels of health care turn at their own pace so I'm not holding my breath as to the timing. But I am trusting that God has a plan to heal my body. And trusting His Heart for my family. I know I am blessed in spite of barrenness. I do not live without hope because God has given me so much. He has proven Himself to be true even in the hard times, even when I didn't want to see Him. He is God. And I am trusting Him and basking in the knowledge that He is walking with me through this. He has not abandoned me because I didn't get this dream come true, this experience. He is loving me through it, and I trust grieving my loss right alongside me.

So yeah... life is full and good and one day at at time. hope to be back again soon. Until then, blessings.

And then sometimes there's stuff to say but...

really, I'm overwhelmed with real life right now. And really, I'm overwhelmed with how much I want to talk about and then just don't do it. Blugh. But here I am, talking about how overwhelmed I am, and well, I should just be talking about my blessed life!

I missed two Open Adoption Roundtables in this blogging hiatus ~ # 5 is here and # 4 too... both questions are excellent and I will comment at some point (sorry Heather!) and I look forward to someday having an afternoon to put my feet up and catch up.

And I've missed a gazillion days of Grace in Small Things but you should rest assured that grace runs deep and wide in my life right now. Mostly because God is so good, and I'm slowly recognizing that more and more, even through the hard stuff he is good and is gives grace to get us through.

We've been out at the beginning of this month camping for two weeks and I'd call it a vacation if it wasn't so much work! With two littles, it is a total blast and takes quite the energy. I hope I get the chance to tell some tales... and to share a couple of really amazing moments where God came down during our Family camp time this year.

And now, we're crazily moving towards the beginning of school ~ Bug in Kindy, Si in preschool ~ but first, Bug has the honor of being a flower girl in the wedding of our pastor's youngest daughter, who is also a dear friend to us all. And her groom is one of my former youth group members at a previous assignment so that makes it all the more special! We've been working hard to help out in little ways, which included MuffinFest 2009 where 10 dozen muffins were produced in my little kitchen for breakfast at their house (and ours... some of the guests are staying here too!). We are so looking forward to this weekend and the chance to celebrate their marriage and see friends who are just like family.

And renovations on our 'probably gonna be here for awhile whether we want to or not' are moving forward. In early July, the down bathroom sprung a leak, and the whole thing was ripped out so that became our first project, although the timing was unexpected. Kitchen cupboards are already in (why is it that when you want something now, as in the shower tile for the aforementioned shower it isn't in, and when you'd rather it wait awhile it comes quicker than you planned????) so we'll have to move into that pretty quickly. We don't have the space to store the new cupboards til we can get to it. I can't even wrap my head around the chaos of the next several months but I am trusting we'll get through this just as we have through everything else. God is good that way, giving you strength when you need it.

I want to talk about some health related stuff at Life as a Pear (see sidebar for link) but it too hasn't gotten updated. MRI is done on my foot and inconclusive except to say I probably have a neuroma that may or may not be treatable and I probably have a stress fracture that will have to be treated at some point. It means no surgery for now which is a relief however, it means that I continue in pain indefinitely. So there's that. And I'm almost in the same month as the coveted ultrasound to determine the future of my uterus (and other such parts) so I guess that's good. I've basically made peace with moving forward (again, something I have to flesh out another time) and trusting that the grief that may come with it will just come with it and not overwhelm.

Talk about a whole load of blabbering. I want to write and write and get it all out but alas, children need baths and beds and the dishes linger on the table. I so wish I could get paid to write about my life. (and that comments deserves a tongue in cheek!)

Blessings and talk soon...