The Nitty Gritty of Adoption.

I've heard something like "you can be a hero once when you adopt, but from that point forward it's called parenting". Two and half years ago my husband and I adopted Judah (then 2.5) and Addise (then 11 months) from Ethiopia. Adopting never felt heroic. We don't believe we saved our kids from anything. Becoming their parents always felt like a gift, an obedience to a calling. These days it feels like parenting with as much obedience as we can muster on any given day.

Parenting adopted kids is no joke. Granted, parenting my biological 1 year old son is no joke either, but he hasn't come into our family with a host of deficits, needs, trauma, and core pain. Our biggies have and it manifests itself every day, whether we have the eyes to acknowledge it or now.

The nitty gritty truth of adoption is every aspect of adoption is painful, and will forever be painful. My sense is that "others" think after your adopted kids become a part of your forever family and you grit through those first blurry-eyed months of transition that your family is normal, just like regular families. It's not.

We just celebrated Mother's Day. It was over-the-top joyous for me, but there was a deep, unspoken, and unacknowledged ache in my heart as I remembered Judah and Addise's first mom. Every birthday is a reminder of what was given and then lost. Every time we're at the doctor and are asked questions about their history I have to shrug through my smile and I'm brought back to the unknown of my children's past.

We watched our "Meet-chya Day" video for the first time with our kids this past Mother's Day. Judah was eerily quiet and confused. He was entranced while watching the first moments when our family was introduced. I know he was trying to process what was going on. I anticipate his questions in the days ahead. 

Where are the pictures when I was a baby? Why were you crying, mama? Why was I wearing that girl shirt? Why was I born in Ethiopia? Is Addise my "real" sister? ... GULP.

A few months ago we had lunch at our local Ethiopian restaurant and our server, named Aster like our daughter's middle name, began asking questions to Judah in Amharic.

Aster: What's your name? Judah: My name is Judah. 

Aster: Is she your older sister or younger sister? Judah: She's my little sister. 

Aster: Do you want that to drink? Judah: Yes, I want the orange juice like them. 

Aster: Thank you for coming here today. Judah: Thank you.

In a state of utter shock, I asked Aster if he really understood her: "Of course. Once he knows Amharic, it's always in there." she nonchalantly replied. I could hardly process what was happening. My son lived in Ethiopia for 2 1/2 years and has been home for nearly the same amount of time. For nearly half his life he's barely heard Amharic. But it all rushed back to the surface.

It's different with our daughter. She doesn't have the conscious memories, she has visceral wounds. She's oddly clingy and frequently reverts back to baby-like behaviors. Recently, she's been fearful of us leaving her. Her reactions to discipline are disproportionate. These are the wounds she carries and we have the opportunity to help her heal through.

These reminders of their loss and trauma and past are all too often. Many days we just are doing our parenting/life thing and then a trigger will pop up from no where. Some days we feel like a normal family (whatever that is) and then reality smacks us across our face. And we are humbled at the privilege and responsibility of parenting our children in and through their whole story.

This is why I'm so excited about Idea Camp in September. Adoption is a privilege, a calling worth giving our life to but we need support and we need others to get it with us so we don't have to explain every single thing. Parenting is exhausting enough without having to educate the world.

I'm not sure I can attend/participate at Idea Camp Human Care this September (ya know, with the "3 kids 5 years and under" thing), but I certainly hope you can. These are good people. Smart people. Humble people. Active people who are as committed to listening and question-asking as they are to doing something. I trust founder/CEO, Charles Lee, and believe this conversation is important not just to the Church but to our lives. 

Find out more here: http://theideacamp.com/. Or simply register here: http://ideacamp2013.eventbrite.com/#.

My Guest Post - Moving Beyond Survival

Whoever says that friends cannot be made online is just wrong.

Bex Mann is my friend. And we have never met face-to-face.

Bex and I started connecting online in 2009 when our adoption journeys coincided. Over the past nearly 4 years Bex has been deeply connected to every stage in our adoption and parenting story, as I have been with hers. The similarities in the ways our motherhood evolved are eery - from infertility to adoption to getting pregnant within weeks of each other. It's a connection and story that only God could write. Bex has become a fast-friend as we've prayed for each other, wept over each other's common pain, celebrated with "only God" moments, and "liked" nearly every picture each other has posted on Instagram. I'm deeply grateful for her. She's way hipper, skinnier, and younger than I am and I covet her hair. But we both have nose rings so that evens the playing field.

When Bex asked if I'd write a guest post on her blog, I quickly said "yes" then wrote a raw post late one evening while Asher slept beside me. I love her blog. Please check it out. The original post can be read HERE (including a too-kind introduction to me), but my post is below.

Moving Beyond Survival

For years we l.o.n.g.e.d to have a family. We tried the easy way, the hard way, the prayerful way, the natural way, the medical way…every way we knew how. When we reached our limit trying to have biological babies, we moved toward a dream God had put in our hearts years earlier – international adoption. Soon into our adoption process, I bumped in Bex in blog-land. A fast, mutual, and affectionate online friendship began. Though I’ve never met her in real life, we’ve prayed each other through years of crazy infertility, adoption, and pregnancy adventures.

After nearly 4 years from beginning to end, we brought home Judah and Addise (add-i-say) from Ethiopia. Just months later, the Mann’s brought home breathtaking Mercy. Judah was 2 ½ years old; Addise was just 11 months. Then, miraculously, 9 months later we were pregnant. Go back and read that again. PREGNANT. (Coincidentally, Bex got pregnant about a month before I did!) WITH CHILD. Then, our little bio boy decided he needed to meet his Ethiopian siblings early, so he arrived 7 weeks early.

In 15 months we went from zero to three children - 3 ½ years old, 2 years, and a newborn. And we effortlessly moved into survival mode. After years of longing, here we were. A not-so-instant family with a bazillion needs – medical, attachment, emotional, developmental.

Occasionally I showered, but I put on make-up every day just to feel a little feminine. For months, droves of friends brought food, ran errands, and cared for our basic needs. My mom visited from the Midwest to offer support and cooking skills about 6 times. Once an avid reader, I didn’t read a single book for over a year. I cleaned my house about every 3 weeks. I never, ever, ever worked out, though I grimaced at the post-baby pounds that didn’t fall off with breastfeeding like everyone promised (Liars, all of them). My husband got laid off from his job this past fall. All the while I continued pastoring full-time at our church. Life was – and is – crazy.

I’ve come to believe that surival mode is a gift from God. He graced us with the cloud of ignorance because we just couldn’t do anything more than survive. Now, 27 months into parenting our little brood I’m beginning to lift my head from the tyrrany of the urgent. Beginning. I’ve realized that our family’s had three unwritten, barely articulated goals in the madness of these past 2 years.

First, get $h!t done. Kids need to eat at least three times per day. They need clean diapers every once in a while. Dishes need to make their way from the table to the sink to the dishwasher. Baths are helpful a couple times a week. We need clean clothes. Bills must be paid. Email needs to be checked. Meetings needed to be planned and lead well. Plans needed to be developed. Everyday there’s just a lot of stuff to get done. So, get as much done as divinely possible.

Second, keep people alive. This is where meals and safety and wisdom came into play. But mainly feed the little ones and make sure they don’t drown in the bathtub while you’re cooking pasta.

Third, love each other as best we can. Our oldest two kiddos came home from Ethiopia with a host of (expected) issues – medical, language, developmental, attachment. Our littlest one came home from the hospital with a couple, minor medical issues and normal newborn needs. It’s very easy to let the multitude of real needs overtake the greatest need. At the end of the day, have we spoken kindly to each other? Have we smothered each other in kisses? Have my kids heard me say more than once today “I love you, no matter what”? Have our kids seen me kiss my husband and connect with him more than just as a “divide and conquer” partner? Have we smiled at each other more than we’ve barked instructions as we get $h!t done? Have we said “I’m sorry; will you forgive me” as needed? Love covers a multitude of sins.

So, that’s where we are these days. Three simple goals that are about more than we can handle. Sure, I can’t wait to get back to my pre-baby weight and go on bi-monthly dates with my man and have a normal 8-hour work day, but those days will come. I’m learning to embrace all the more the “unforced rhythms of grace” (Matthew 11) that Jesus offers me. He knows my madness and he’s okay with my survival these days. It’s actually in that surival that I can experience that supernatural grace and power that I desperately need. Amen.

A Look Back at Our Infertility Journey

Scrolling back in my computer for another document, I stumbled upon these words tonight. They screamed of my brokenness and God's faithfulness in our lives. So, I wanted to share. Please, if someone you know is currently in the mess of infertility, share our journey with them. As my friend Kelly said repeatedly, "this is not the end".

The following is unedited nearly 4 years later...

Infertility Journey Timeline

4 May 2009

August 2001

• We got married!!!  Got married young, so we totally didn’t want to have kids for 3-5 years…
• And throughout the past couple years, we keep getting the question “when do you guys want to have babies?” more & more frequently.  For a long time we shrugged off the question because we’ve loved our life together.  Our motto was, “once a parent, always a parent.  So let’s take advantage of this time that we’ll never get alone together again.”  And we’re glad we made that decision!

Circa 2003

• Told a friend of mine, “I wonder if we’ll adopt a baby from Africa before we have our own kids?”  God planted that dream in our heart for a purpose.

July 2007

• 6 years later…Officially trying to get pregnant!

January 2008                

• After about 6 months of confusing responses from my body, I decided to see my doctor.  I was sensing there was a problem with my body…things weren’t working right.

Good Friday 2008

§  Diagnosis of my infertility [PCOS], the #1 cause of infertility in women

§  Let the treatment begin!  My doctor was very optimistic that we could get pregnant.  She said most couples get pregnant within a year of trying.  If it’s longer than that, that’s what diagnoses you with an infertility issue.  While the news of my PCOS was shocking and sharp pain, we still really believed we could conquer this in no time. 

§  Brian and I talked about our “limits” with treatment.  We knew that we didn’t want to financially invest in costly treatments because of our heart/calling for adoption.  We would rather financially invest into an adoption then risky, unsure medical treatments.

§  We had no idea what lay ahead…

March-August 2008

§  Medical treatment with my OB [doctor appointments, blood tests, HSG, multiple meds, 20+ ultrasounds]

§  Did some sort of treatment or test nearly every week during that time period

§  My body seemed to be responding pretty well to the procedures

§  No answers as to why I couldn’t get pregnant during these 5 months

§  Obviously an emotional roller coaster.  Besides the stress and pain of our inability to get pregnant, the meds sent me on a hormone roller coaster.  Plus, it was a “baby boom” everywhere I looked.  A constant reminder of what I could not have.

§  Still, Brian and I were always on the same page.  One of the decisions we made was that whenever the costs to get pregnant became stretching, we would start the adoption process.  Initially, we gave ourselves until the end of 2008 to get pregnant. Otherwise, we would start the adoption process.  But we also said we would follow the suggested medical treatments until the financial part limited us.

§  March: Started reading When the Heart Waits by Sue Monk Kidd.  It’s all about our soul’s transformation throughout pain and active waiting.  It nourished and sustained me; giving new language to God’s word and my experiences. 

• May: This was also the time that I stepped into Noah’s Place full-time.  “Reluctant leader” and “painful adaption” don’t even begin to describe my soul.

August 2008

§  My OB told me, “There’s nothing else I can do for you.  I need to refer you to an infertility specialist.” 

§  God gave me a conversation with a good friend of ours [Loc Ta], and he told us that his friend is a well-respected specialist.  We called him, and immediately God opened the door for us to see him. 

§  Hope was renewed and we didn’t feel forgotten.

Sept 2008-Feb 2009

§  3 IUI (inter uterine insemination) cycles; produced over mature 20 eggs total; Never got pregnant

§  Sunday, February 15^th after I moderated the Newsong services (with David Ruis) was when I found out the last IUI failed.  Brian got the phone call and told me when I got home from church.  I felt something break inside of me, and I knew I had nothing left to give to this process. 

§  My infertility doctor said there were no foreseen reasons I never got pregnant, and that medically IVF was our next step.  Brian and I knew that we wouldn’t go for IVF.

§  At the end of February, Brian and I started talking about “when” to start the adoption process.  God laid a series of conversations in front of us that affirmed the time to begin was now.

March 2, 2009

§  We submitted our application to CWA to adopt a baby girl from Ethiopia!! 

§  Almost immediately started experiencing healing, hope, and joy in new ways.

§  We are adopting because of calling, conviction, compassion, and commitment.  Calling: years ago there was a dream and it was confirmed in Kenya.  Conviction: God’s calling to care for the widow and orphans; We can!  Compassion: our heart breaks for the needs of African children.  Commitment: to be a 3^rd culture family.

May 2009

§  Seriously, to date this has been the most painful and most transformational experience of my life.  The butterfly necklace I wear daily speaks to the cocooning, dying, and rebirth that I’ve experienced throughout this journey [Brian bought it for my 29^th birthday]. 

§  It has also radically changed our marriage – bringing healing, understanding, comfort, and intimacy like we’ve never experienced before.  This has been the most strengthening and healing circumstance we’ve ever experienced as a couple!

§  We are in the home study portion of our adoption process, hoping to bring home Baby Ethiopia within the next 9-11 months.

October 20, 2010

§  One the waitlist with CWA to bring home TWO little ones from Ethiopia