Newborns

A wise adoptive momma friend told me a couple years ago that the pain of infertility didn't end for her until her 2 little Ethiopian princesses came home. I didn't believer her, but it was TOTALLY true!

Even since our kids have come home, I've still experienced motherhood grief. The most recent sting was like a punch to the gut. A dear friend had her baby girl 7 weeks ago. The "Diaz 4" were among the first at the hospital to welcome sweet baby Harper into the world.

Several weeks later I saw Liz and Harper at our staff meeting. The scene was classic newborn: Harper got cranky. Liz instinctively scooped up her infant and snuggled her into her chest where her itty-bitty baby cuddled for the next 30 minutes.

As I watched this beautiful scene out of the corner of my eye, my heart and eyes unexpectedly welled. I instantly felt this intense loss of not being able to do that for Judah and Addise. I wondered if their biological mothers had nurtured them like that. I longed to have known them from those teensy-tiny days where they weighed less than 10 pounds. I felt the pang of not being able to bond with them from those first days of life. The first picture I have of Judah is 1 month after his 2nd birthday. I simply wished that I have been a part of their story from Day 1.

This is one of the odd things of adoption. Judah and Addise are 100% my children, and yet there is so much a part of their story that I do not know. It feels like I've birthed them, but there's a gap in knowing them. Adoption is the encapsulation of everything as it should be [redemption, love, reconciliation, healing] and everything as it wasn't meant to be [loss, poverty, death].

So while there is already tremendous healing through becoming J&A's momma, it's not yet complete. Such is the Kingdom on Earth...

Mother's Day

Two years ago, after 2 years of heartbreaking infertility and just starting our adoption process, I gave a message at our church on Mother's Day about experiencing God as my Mother. The response was overwhelming. I was able to share from a raw and personal place about the pain Mother's Day can bring, and the beauty of God in a new way.

That year my mom and grandmother surprised me by flying out for my Mother's Day message, the first time I spoke to our entire church. It was one of the few times I've been TOTALLY surprised by anyone. It was beyond meaningful to have these two mothers in my life present for this important message.

Two years later, he's turned my mourning into dancing again. What gratitude tonight kissing Judah and Addise as we put them to sleep. I am a deeply, deeply grateful mother of two Ethiopian beauties...

Mother's Day - May 10, 2009 from Newsong Church on Vimeo.

"God as Mother"

Speaker: April Diaz

Happy Mother's Day to me and all my fellow women who've had unexplicably painful Mother's Day. Here's to a new day...

C.S. Lewis

One of my little brother's [He's 6 feet tall, 29 year old brother. My "baby brother" is also nearly 6 feet and is 19 years old. Whatever you might say, I'm the 5'3", 31 year old BIG sister!] favorite philosphers/theologians/authors is C.S. Lewis. He loves him so much that his first born son's namesake is after C.S. Lewis - Lewis Samuel. For good reason. He's incredible. A couple years ago my mom bought me Lewis' A Grief Observed to help me grieve through my infertility. It was healing and validating.

Last night I was reading another book with these 2 C.S. Lewis quotes. Not sure where they're from. I hope they are nourishing and healing to you in you find yourself resonating with them...

"There is nothing we can do with suffering except suffer it."

Many, many times in the grief of the past several years, I heard people say that I should get over it. Move on. Count my blessings. Focus on God's goodness. Forget what's behind. Maybe they didn't say it directly, but it was roundabout. I heard it in their tone or saw it in their eyes. Maybe I just intuitively felt it. But I also intuitively felt what Lewis wrote here. You just gotta suffer through it. Live in it. Feel what I feel. Validate it. And trust that God is moving me from this place to a better, a holier place.

"We're not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us;
we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."

Even up until this past week when our first Embassy date was postponed, I wondered that exact thing. I sincerely believe that God will give me his best. "So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him." [Matthew 7, italics mine]. I used to sign all my emails "God's Best". I'm willing to go through the pain in order to receive his good gifts.

To the One who was well acquainted with sorrow, help me in my unbelief and trust you even when the pain seems unbearable. Thank you, Jesus, for the good gifts named Judah and Addise you are giving us this month! And thank you for grace through my doubts and sustenance in my greatest pain.