The Adoption-Moon is Over

You know how right after you get married you go on a honeymoon? Ahhhh, the honeymoon Isn't it just wonderful? Everything is exciting and new. Relaxing on the beach. Sleeping late. Enjoying using the phrase "my husband" as often as humanly possible. "Oh, I am just waiting for my husband." No stress at all. Each day that passes is another day that you, yes you, have been married. Oh, how marvelous it all is! I think we have a similar experience with anything new. New job. So exciting! New house. Make it your own! But eventually that phase ends. You still love your job, but the new has worn off. You love your house, but you have made it yours. You love your husband, but you are no longer on the beach with a good book in one hand a frosty beverage in the other. You have to do life. You have responsibilities. Like that new job and that new house! You still love what you are doing, but you have to live in the meantime. I have to tell you that I went through an adoption-moon.

When we first started, each new day or week brought something new, something we had to do to get our little one home. So began Phase I of the adoption-moon. Fill out eight hundred pieces of paperwork. Gladly! Get fingerprinted twice. My pleasure! Read books and take classes. Why, I'd love to! And I did love it. Don't get me wrong, it was hard and frustrating and kept me running in circles for pretty much the entire summer of 2012. But I did not care, because all of that work was bringing us closer to our child. Then we sent off all of that paperwork. Phase II of the adoption moon began. We were a waiting family! Officially! Our paperwork landed in Ethiopia. That was one of the best days we have had on this journey so far. To know that all of our hard work had paid off and landed safely on the other side of the ocean. To know that our name was on a list that would bring us closer each day to having our little one in our arms. Talk about an emotional adoption high. I was on cloud 9. Maybe even cloud 10. Then we got our first waiting list number. It all felt so real. For the first time, I felt like were actually expecting a child. 

But now we are ten months in to the adoption process and five months into the officially waiting process, and I have to tell you, the new has worn off. I am over it. I want my kid(s) home with me. I want to be their mother. I am tired, so physically and emotionally and spiritually tired of waiting. I am starting to feel like we will always be waiting. I feel it stretching out in front of us. And I am exhausted.  Add to that the fact that I do not think there have been any referrals so far in the month of February and you get one hot mess of a adoptive mom.

I spent the better part of yesterday holding back tears and letting tears go. The phase of our life has completely overwhelmed me. It has emptied me out.

And maybe that is where God wants me. Completely dependent on Him for everything. I would love to be able to tell you that I am just embracing this feeling of emptiness. But I am not. This is so hard. It is so hard to wait for an unspecified amount of time for your child, who is on the other side of the world, to come home. There is a big part of me that is rebelling against what God is doing in my life right now. A part of me that screams about how unfair this is, how much pain I am in, how I just don't think I can do it anymore. That part of me feels caged, trapped. Because I know that I cannot do anything to fix it. Only God can do that. Again, maybe that is where God wants me. Maybe He wants me to be in a place where He is the only one who can do anything about this. And I have to trust that He is good.

I will be honest; that is the truth I am hanging on to for dear life these days. He is good. He is good. He is always, only, ever good.

God is love. And if He is love, then He acts out of love. He does not make mistakes. And if I believe that (which I do), then I also have to accept that what is happening in our lives right now is not a mistake. It is an intentional part of His plan. And the only way that this much pain could be part of a good plan (a plan that is rooted in love), is if the end result of this plan is far better than anything I can get my little mind around.

So if you see me and it looks like I might be forgetting that truth for a moment, please remind me. My husband, God bless him, did a wonderful job of this last night. Calming me down, persevering in talking to me through my tears (angry Baylor is not an easy person to talk to, much less rationalize with), refusing to let me forget that we serve a great God and that He has great plans for our family. Then my mother followed on his heels, listening to me as tried to work through it all and taking me right back to God's Word (where I should have been all along). I will leave you with what she shared with me last night.

"Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous be shaken."
Psalm 55:22

Love,
Baylor

P.S. Happy Valentine's Day to you! We are going on a silly, fun date tonight. Hopefully, I will have good pictures to share with you tomorrow.

P.P.S. We are taking t-shirt orders for a few more weeks. Let me know if you are interested!