Rub My Belly

Today at Newsong I ran into another adoptive momma-to-be and a very supportive mom, and immediately we started chattering "adoption updates". This other family just accepted a referral for 2 little Korean boys. I started going on and on about my year-long nesting craziness. We were laughing, they were giving me tips, and I was just soaking up being around these wonderful moms. Then, Maria spontaneously put her hands on both our bellies and squealed (if you know Maria, that's SO Maria) in delight, "You are both SO pregnant. It's like you're in the 3rd trimester. You're both so close to having your babies home!" I laughed back that I was in more like my 5th trimester, and wasn't taking offense that she said I looked like I was in my 3rd trimester. We all laughed! I was having so much fun in our conversation with Maria's hand rubbing all over my belly, that her act/words didn't even sink in fully. Driving home minutes later, I started tearing up.

[That's Maria in the black t-shirt, hugging me in the white hoodie]
God knows. God remembers. He knows that I LOVE touch, and I would've loved to have had my belly touched for 9 months of pregnancy. Maria doesn't even know that, but the Spirit prompted her in the moment to rub my belly. She was also sensitive to our other friend's referral news, knowing that it might strike me hard. It didn't, but as a mom she knows the aching of a momma for her baby.

Today could have been painful for a number of reasons, but God brought Maria and Jessica along for a great dose of laughter and belly touching.
I am grateful!

When I Think...

Today I spent a day of solitude at my favorite beach. Although it was cold, cloudy, and foggy (yes, in July), it was good for my soul. I felt at peace, at rest. It was well with my soul. I spent a fair amount of time contemplating the state of my soul regarding our adoption and processing some newer things with God. Among those newer things was thinking about when THE CALL comes...

Tonight, I've been reading some of my favorite Ethiopian adoption blogs, and came across this blog from another family adopting 2 little Ethiopians from our agency. She recently posted on "waiting" and I cried while reading the entire post!! Here are a couple excerpts...

i think of our children often. i wonder what they look like. how old they are. if they are still with their birth mother or already in an orphanage. if they have enough to eat. if they have enough love and cuddles and kisses. it is very strange to dwell on someone that you know nothing about, and yet that is really the beauty about all of this: i love my children, and i know nothing about them. my heart just feels bound to them in a way i can't really explain. i know, it's weird.

I have thought, felt, and wondered all those things...a hundred times over the past year. One of the things us adoptive parents have in common is this inexplicable love for children that we've never met and don't look like us. My heart has been bound to those children for the past 16 months. It is weird AND supernatural.

it often seems very unreal that at the end of however much waiting we will endure, there will actually be two little ones who will call us mommy and daddy. i think this is the one thing i envy about pregnant women. i'm sure it's still unreal to think that a baby will leave your womb and suddenly be yours to care for. but at least for those 9 months, your baby is inside of you, and you are affirmed everyday that this is real. and people around you affirm you too by commenting on how cute your baby bump is or asking about your due date or guessing whether the baby will have your eyes.

i guess what i realize is that many people still don't know how to talk about adoption as if it were equal to being pregnant. no, i don't want people to say they are the same because they aren't. but they are both equally valuable ways of becoming a parent. people can ask a pregnant woman a million questions about what it feels like to have a baby inside or what she thinks of public breastfeeding or if she'll deliver her baby naturally. but seriously, the minute an adoptive mom starts talking about attachment or racism or how there are 147 million orphans in the world...people really have no clue how to handle that.

i guess what i realize is that many people still don't know how to talk about adoption as if it were equal to being pregnant. no, i don't want people to say they are the same because they aren't. but they are both equally valuable ways of becoming a parent. people can ask a pregnant woman a million questions about what it feels like to have a baby inside or what she thinks of public breastfeeding or if she'll deliver her baby naturally. but seriously, the minute an adoptive mom starts talking about attachment or racism or how there are 147 million orphans in the world...people really have no clue how to handle that.if you're an adoptive parent, there are many people like me who understand the funk of the wait. i know that so much of the affirmation you have of your children is the feeling you have deep in your soul. and i know that people really don't get that or don't know how to engage that because we live in a society where pregnancy is normal, and adoption is...well, not as normal. i don't say any of this to disparage pregnancy because hey, i plan to at least try to be pregnant one day. i just pray that some day people can truly walk alongside one another in journeying to their children, appreciating the beauty and joy and validity of both pregnancy and adoption. and if you're not an adoptive parent, find an adoptive family to affirm today!

Oh, the tears on this post. My dear friend, Alicia, is about to burst with her first son later this month, and she sent me an amazing message today affirming me. She gets that the wait is hard and that I've seen so many pregnancies come and go over the past few years. She knows that I've seen bellies turn into babies who've turned into toddlers. She spoke into a deep part of me that's longed, ached, mourned, and hoped throughout this journey.

Thanks to my friends along the way who've blessed, affirmed, supported, and loved us through this journey. I will continue to wait. In the words of friend, Margaret Feinberg,

God invites us to place the weight of the wait on him.
He does not want us to wait alone, but rather wait on him alone.

There is no Plan B

I've been thinking once again about the title of our blog: Plan A Ethiopia. I realized that many of our current readers weren't a part of the beginning of our adoption story. If you want to read the original post describing our blog's origin, click HERE.

Recently, I was having a conversation with a friend, Dave Brubaker [Bru], about Plan A. He's been such a great support and encouragement in the past couple years at the most opportune times - divine moments actually. He inspired me re-visit the original heart and vision behind this blog. Here are some edited snippets from our conversations...

• The only thing weirder to imagine than Plan A is Plan B. To God there is no Plan B. As the Sovereign God of the Universe, he only operates with this first plan in mind. When it comes to our infertility and our babies' birth parent's loss, he has a Plan A, too.
• You can hit a lot of walls with Plan A, but it doesn't change the plan. Oh man, there have been plenty of days and tests and conversations where I've felt like I've run into a brick wall. Even though I believe to the tips of my toes that this is God's Plan A for our family, it doesn't eliminate the difficulty of not being able to get pregnant or going through the highs and lows of adoption. And even when we hit walls in our Plan A, it's to redirect us to God's true Plan A.
  

Bru was talking about the cloud of witnesses [Hebrews 11] and how much we'll have to talk about in heaven about the way we think things should have been - in our timing - and how things actually were - in God's perfect timing. Those Hebrews 11 "heroes" faced floods, deserts, infertility, imprisonment, torture, and all kinds of other crazy things, yet these men and women continued to hope and trust in the God of Plan A. I love this passage:

All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. [Hebrews 11:13-16]

May this serve as a reminder to us, wherever we are at in our pilgrimage. May we remember there is no Plan B and we can have hope...

For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit his very self? [Luke 9:24-25]