After a difficult custody hearing yesterday Baby went to live with his new family in Wisconsin. After having that sweet child for 6 months, our hearts are full of a jumble of emotions. We feel sad about the loss of the dreams and plans we unintentionally made about him being part of our lives forever.
Our Adoption Story
I remember what it’s like to be in the midst of infertility and the heartbreak it brings. Â I know the pain of saying goodbye to a foster baby who has been part of our family for many months. Â I know what it’s like to suffer a failed adoption. Â I remember searching out people who had been throughout those same experiences and craving the encouragement they had to offer. Â Here is a glimpse* of our story, I hope it brings you strength to face whatever trials you are enduring.
*We feel like some of the details of our boys’ adoption stories are private and are not entirely ours to share. Â When the boys are older, they will learn all the details and will be able to share them with those they choose.
- Just Le me cry
- Hanging On
- Hope
- Helen
- Baby Steps
- Grateful
- One of those days
- Wondering
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My amazing Mama wrote a poem after our heartbreak last week.  We read it for the first time last night and Jason and I both cried.  Not hard to believe, I know.  This was not the sobbing-so-hard-we-can't-breathe crying we did for the first couple of days after our failed adoption, though.  It was more of the tears-running-down-our-cheeks-and-our-hearts-still-hurt-but-we're-slowly-moving-on type crying.
Progress.
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I have been rather quiet here lately.  Much of my writing time over the past weeks has been spent on preparing our adoption papers.  Jason and I had to answer countless in-depth questions, separately and together.  It has been a long process, but I'm happy to report that we are (mostly) finished!
 I think.
It has been quite a time of introspection; thinking about our lives, our trials and our strengths. Â The good, bad and ugly about every aspect of our lives. Â Revisiting the emotions surrounding our infertility has been difficult for me. Â I read this quote today and loved the imagery of it:
I am humbled by the outpouring of love and support we have received lately. Â For example, the homeschool co-op we're a part of is high on that list of dedicated supporters. Â They have taken on our cause and are working together to raise money for our adoption. Â They've got fundraisers planned throughout the rest of the school year: bake sales, garage sales, bread orders (delivered weekly), selling pumpkins grown in our gardening club over the summer, and more. All the proceeds are going toward our dream of adding another little one to our family.
I am at a loss to express my gratitude. Â These families have their own trials and difficulties, but they are excited and enthusiastic about donating time and money to help our little family grow. Â I am overwhelmed by their kindness. Â Truthfully, I feel a little guilty and shy about accepting their help. Â It's much easier for me to be on the giving end than the receiving end.
As I let go of my apprehension, however, I feel thoroughly and completely loved and blessed by good friends and family.
Thank you.
I don't often talk about our infertility struggles. Â It's not an easy topic to discuss as it's very personal and I have a hard time imagining anyone would really want to hear me complain about it. Â So most of my posts are positive and upbeat. Â I generally just brag about our adorable children or my amazing husband. And for the most part I don't let myself dwell on the fact that we'll never have another biological child. Â I am incredibly blessed, and I realize that.
{on an nature walk with my little crazies. Â They decided to practice their hoity-toity faces for some reason}
Sometimes a poem just pops into my head. It's been happening more often lately. And last time I felt the need to share it and learned that it was just what a dear friend needed to hear. In the early hours this morning, this poem came to me. I have had a lot of feelings jumbled inside me lately, and this is how they came tumbling out:
There are three different tabbed sections here. Make sure you scroll down so you don’t miss anything!
- What Life is Like When A foster Child arrives
- Why I don't care whether you breast feed or foumula feed
- A rant about the term "real Mom"
We doubled the number of children at our house this week. Yep, it's been busy. Â We first heard about our new foster placements in the middle of last week. Â I immediately felt powerfully drawn to them. Ask my sweet, patient husband...there were some powerful emotional outbursts around here as I attempted to wait patiently to see how the situation would play out. Â I think I've mentioned this before: I am not good at patiently waiting.
After a couple of painfully slow days, we learned on Friday that we'd be bringing two little boys into our home. Â We don't know the whole situation at this point. Â We are attempting not to get our hopes up (yes, you've heard that before).
The first couple of days were rough, as they always are. Â These poor kiddos have recently been through the most traumatic event of their lives; something no child should ever have to go through. Â Each time we receive a new little one (or two), our lives stop for the first several days. Â I do not make "to-do" lists. Â I don't do much cleaning or work on extra projects. Sometimes I don't even turn my phone on (sorry if you've been trying to reach me). We focus on the sweet little person who is so in need. Â We get to know each other.
Usually these small people have had no sort of routine, order or structure in their lives. Â Sometimes they are accustomed to going a long, long time between meals. Â We spend our first few days introducing them to our healthy home. Â Here, we have regular meals. Sleep and rest time are important. We read lots of books; give lots of snuggles, tickles and kisses; we play together and spend a lot of time outside.
We have seen huge progress in these boys over the past couple of days. Â When we first met them, they were terrified and exhausted (for good reason). Â But as we have regularly met their basic needs, their sweet and silly personalities have begun to emerge. Â More smiles and words, more trust.
I have seen changes in Ellie and Ethan as well. Â There has been less bickering, fewer arguments and more giggles. Â Toys have been willingly shared with our new arrivals. Â Ellie, especially, has been a huge help. Â I literally could not have made it as well through these first difficult days without her. Â Her kind, loving nature emerged more than ever this weekend. Â Her bossy-go-gettive-ness took a turn toward jump-in-and-be-helpful-ness and what a joyful thing it has been for me to experience that.
Try as I might (which, truthfully, is not very hard), I am already falling in love. Â Having felt so overpoweringly about these two from the get-go makes me wonder what is in store for us. Â An inkling of our family being complete has entered my heart. Â It's all I can do to not go back and erase that last sentence; what if I'm wrong?
 I suppose there is one thing I can count on for sure: right now we are doing what our family is meant to do.
Breastfeeding vs. Formula
This subject has been on my heart lately, and because I have a different perspective than most mamas I feel the need to share. Â It may be that I am ultra-senstive to this topic as I am up to my eyeballs in the newborn world again, but it seems to me that this debate is everywhere.
For the record, let me state that I began my motherhood career absolutely pro-breastfeeding. Â I nursed our biological daughter until she was over a year old. If I had never become a foster/adoptive mama, I would be wholeheartedly and firmly in the exclusive breastfeeders camp. Â However, that is no longer the case. Â Through many experiences caring for foster children and the boys we've adopted, my opinion has changed.
There is only one question I believe we should be concerned about when it comes to the way we feed our babies:
Yes, healthy food is important. I absolutely believe in whole foods and lots of fruits and veggies. But more important than that is the absence of neglect.
These moments are fleeting.
 Let's ditch the guilt and just enjoy them.
**One of the really crummy things about being a foster family is that we don't ever get to find out what happens to "our" little ones once they leave our home. Â We would have adopted either of these children in a heartbeat, but we have no control over where they end up. And we don't even get to know where that is, in most cases.**
I'm feeling the need to vent about something and hope you won't mind. I am generally not easily offended, but there is a scenario that happens to us fairly frequently lately, and I don't like it.
Often when we run into old acquaintances, or meet someone new, the topic of Ethan's adoption will come up. (Mostly because Ellie still loves to talk about how he's "stuck to us" and she'll bring it up with anyone and everyone, so I feel the need to fill in some of the details.) Inevitably, they will ask one of the following questions, or something like it: "Where is his "real mom"?" or "Is there any chance his "real mom" could come back into the picture?" I generally say something like, "Nope! He's ours forever!" or "His birth mother's rights were terminated. So he's not going anywhere!"
But what I want to say is: "Can we define "Real Mom"? His "real mom" is the woman that brought him home from the hospital, the one who fed him countless times in the middle of the night. She's the one that has changed thousands of diapers, and fed, bathed and clothed him every day of his life. She was overjoyed to see his first smiles and will never forget the first time he laughed. His "real mom" is the person that swaddled him, brags about how sweet and intelligent he is, takes him on walks, and pushes him in the swing. She's the one that has rocked him to sleep and sung him lullabies as many as 4 times a day for the past almost 9 months. His "real mom" reads him books. She talks to him in funny voices and makes silly faces and generally looks like a fool all without caring a single ounce about what the other people near her at the grocery store think; because those things make him smile and giggle. She is the one he looks for when he needs comfort. She has kissed his chubby cheeks hundreds of times every day. Ethan's "real mom" is the one that waited and prayed for years for him to join her family, and knew her prayers were answered the day his adoption was finalized. I'M his "real mom", thank you very much."
Obviously, this would not be an appropriate response. I know those people are just genuinely curious about his background (which is really not their business anyway) and don't mean to offend. It's just happened so often lately that I'm tired of it.
I feel much better and will hopefully not be so bothered in the future. Thanks!
- Introducing Cutie!
- It's all worth it
- Court
- Harder than we thought
I accidentally left my camera at my parents' house last weekend. I've never realized how many pictures I take until now. I won't have it back until next week, but I was able to borrow a camera so I could update ya'll on a few things. On Tuesday afternoon a bundle of joy was delivered to our doorstep. We've got a darling little 10 month old boy staying with us for a while. Because of the kind of foster care we do and for the babies' safety, and ours, we've decided not to post their names on the blog. I totally understand if that drives you nuts, it would for me! Feel free to email me if you feel you are loosing your sanity over the lack of names for our Cuties. (Also, for those of you who don't know, we are not permitted to talk about anything relating to their backgrounds or why they are with us.) But we CAN tell you all about how cute they are.
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And this guy is CUTE. He's also huge. It is nearly impossible for me to hold him, or be in the same room with him for that matter, without kissing those cheeks. Repeatedly. Man, he's cute. Cutie and Ellie get along really well. They have had a blast crawling all over the house together. He makes kissy noises to get Ellie's attention (I wonder if that has anything to do with the several thousand kisses he gets from me every day...) which cracks her up every time. We really enjoy having him in our house. Ellie's Grandma Great (Rosalie) recently had a birthday. I asked Ellie what she wanted to do to tell Grandma happy birthday, and she replied that we simply must have a tea party. So we invited Grandma and Grandpa Great over for a lovely Tea Party complete with fancy hats, dresses, dainty sandwiches and a little tea set.
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The Greats even brought a hostess gift for Ellie, which she was delighted with. A darling little book and a puzzle of Van Gogh's Sunflowers. She took it apart and put it back together several times that afternoon.
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I just had one of those moments that makes you realize what life is all about.
It makes all the nose wiping, diaper changing, breaking up fights, late nights, shushing, cooking, cleaning (and cleaning and cleaning), weaning, rocking, feeding, teeth brushing, face washing and time-outs worth it. Not to mention the waiting, wondering, tears and prayers.
Ellie was in the tub and I was putting Cutie to bed. I was rocking my clean smelling, chubby, pajama-wearing, full-tummy, tired little guy in his dark bedroom. I was singing him some songs and he leaned in to snuggle (this is new within the past couple of weeks. He always wants to snuggle a bit before he sleeps, when he first came that was not the case). I could hear Ellie singing in her bathtub. Something about how she is Super Girl. After a song or two, Cutie's breathing slowed and he started to give me pats and rub my shoulder.
As I sat there in the quiet I had a breakthrough. I realized that no matter what happens to our little family in the future, wherever this little Cutie ends up, I am so grateful to have had him with us. To see the changes he's gone through and the happy and healthy boy he is, to think of the joy he's brought to our family--even if only for a short time--was enough for that moment.
It was the perfect mommy moment and I am so glad I was there for it. Really there. I wasn't thinking about what to do next, I wasn't in a hurry. I was able to sit and smell the sweet baby in my arms and think of how I'll never be the same because he's a part of my life.
Plus my little Super Girl was still singing away in the bathtub. That's one of my favorite things ever.
We had another court date today and here is the good news:
We are planning to adopt Peanut! (I realize that this is not very different from the last update you heard about him. But the court system works slowly sometimes and nothing is definite until you sign the papers. We are probably 98% sure this will happen. Good odds!)
Here is the other good news: Cutie is going to be reunified with his father. As we have gone through this process and gotten to know his dad better, we are really happy for this outcome. We feel blessed to have been able to help him turn his life around and we are grateful we could provide a loving and stable home for Cutie when he needed it. There will be a short transition period and then on March 2nd, Cutie will move to his father's home. If everything goes well, we will not see him again. This is hard to think about, but Jason and I are both surprised at how okay we are with this. What a great opportunity it's been! (If things don't go well, he will come back to us. But we are not planning on that.)
Thank you for your love and support for our family. Thank you for helping us to be able to provide this service!
--Andrew Harvey
This quote is posted on the wall of the room where we received our foster care training; I've been thinking about it a lot since yesterday. When I wrote the update, the fact the our Cutie was leaving had not really sunk in yet. It's starting to now. We are still happy that we've been part of this process. And seeing the look on Cutie's dad's face yesterday was a powerful moment for both Jason and me. But living without this little boy is going to be harder than we thought. I also keep thinking about a comment made in our foster care class.
If your heart doesn't break when they leave, you didn't do your job.
We fell in love with Cutie, as did our families, and that is exactly what we were supposed to do. He needed and deserved our love and we have grown tremendously as a family through this experience. Our hearts are breaking, but that means we did what we were supposed to do.
Thank you for your words of comfort, I've read through them several times in the past day.
On an unrelated note, I wanted to share this picture. Jason came home the other day to find Cutie wearing a tutu. (That is what happens when things are quiet around here). He immediately took Cutie to the basement to show him how to use a drill. He's a well-rounded boy.
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So here's my question: What would YOU do if you knew you only had about a week left with one of your favorite people in all the world?
- Cutie Sighting
- Cutie's Farewell
- Visiting Cutie
- Little One
- Baby Arrives
- Back to us
You'll never guess who we just ran into at the store! Our sweet little Cutie! I know it should make me happy that when he was a little nervous (because of the loud, surprised woman he thinks he remembers from somewhere getting in his face and wanting to eat him up. Yes, that's what I did.) he looked to his dad for comfort. Still, my heart hurts just a little bit.
He looks happy and healthy and his dad said he absolutely loves being a parent. Ellie was affected by it more than I expected her to be. She told me she was sad and looked close to tears as we got in the car. Then she wanted to talk about Cutie instead of listening to our book-on-tape on the way home (which is unheard-of lately). We remembered funny things about him to help her (and me) feel better. Interesting how we remember things differently after the fact... Ellie remembered how much she loved sharing her toys with Cutie and that he always liked to hold her hand. I don't think it went quite that way, but we'll let her keep those "memories".
Just though you'd like an update!
Last night both sides of our family joined us for a "Goodbye to Cutie Cookie Party". It was a fun night, filled with lots of yummy treats, visiting with our favorite people and celebrating the time we were able to spend with our Cutie. Thanks to all who came, and for all of the thoughts and well-wishes we've received today. (Don't you just love that picture of Jason throwing Cutie? It's taken me the entire 7 months that he was with us to get a good shot. How fitting that it happened on the last night he was here!)
We packed up all of Cutie's stuff and he is now living with his father. We are so happy and feel extremely blessed to have had him in our lives, even if only for a short time. It feels good to have made a difference. And seeing his dad's face today was just about all the reward we need.
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We got to visit with Cutie last week! I am happy to report that he was happy and healthy and running around just like a 2 year old boy should (read: like a crazy person, jumping on the couch, bouncing a ball on the coffee table, etc.). He and his dad both seemed happy together and we are grateful for the role we played in reuniting them. It was a blessing for us to see how well they are doing and especially the love and trust between them. I left their home feeling totally content with the situation and thankful for our small part in it.
To add a surprising twist to our lives, we just took in our first foster placement in almost 18 months. At 3 years old, she's the oldest child we've care for yet. She'll only be with us for a couple of weeks, tops, but I am thrilled to have her here (I'm not allowed to post any pictures of her, by the way). We'll call her Little One (she's TINY!).
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Back to Us
After a difficult custody hearing yesterday Baby went to live with his new family in Wisconsin. After having that sweet child for 6 months, our hearts are full of a jumble of emotions. We feel sad about the loss of the dreams and plans we unintentionally made about him being part of our lives forever.
There are 2 tabbed sections on this page. Scroll down so you don’t miss anything!
- Oh Baby!
- Here He Is
- It Didn't Take Long
- Early Mother's Day Gift
Today at 3:00 we'll be picking up a new addition to our little family. Cutie's little brother was born Tuesday morning, and will be coming to stay with us. Here are some answers to the questions I'm sure you are thinking:
How far apart are Cutie and the new baby? 13 monthsHow big is new baby? 6 lbs 9 oz (I think)Are you prepared? Umm...we have clothes and a bed and diapers (and lots of LOVE). We are as prepared as we can be for a surprise newborn. We are excited and nervous. Mostly I just can't wait to hold a little tiny guy and keep him all to myself. Kristi always makes me give hers back.Are you crazy? Quite possibly.
I'll post pictures of the little guy as soon as I can. No promises as to how quickly that will be. I may be in need of suggestions for what to call him on the blog. Be thinking.
Here is some random cuteness from the past couple of days.You know the food is good when he's got it up to his eyebrows.
Playing in the snow.
Poor Cutie had to just watch from the back door while Ellie played.
Just a quick post to show our new baby! He's the sweetest little thing. So far anyway. We'll see how things go tonight!
It didn't take long.
Great news! We had another court date today. Peanut's birth mother's rights were terminated and we were approved by the judge to become his adoptive family! We are absolutely thrilled! We will be busy gathering paperwork and documentation over the next few weeks and will hopefully have this finalized by July. Hip, hip!
Thank you for all of your prayers on our behalf throughout this process. Our prayers are being answered! This is the best Mother's Day gift EVER!
- Embarrassment
- It's Official
- Sealing Day
- A Poem for Ethan
- Something Weird
Definition: Embarrassment is an emotional state experienced upon having a socially or professionally unacceptable act or condition witnessed by or revealed to others. Usually some amount of loss of honor or dignity is involved, but how much and the type depends on the embarrassing situation.
Our caseworker came for a visit today. I needed to sign some paperwork and he wanted to check in on Ethan. While he was there, Ellie brought out her beloved (and disgustingly dirty) Pink Baby. She promptly put Pink Baby into a drawstring bag and started hitting the bag, yelling, "Be quiet, baby! Go to sleep!" She thought this was hilarious. I probably wouldn't have minded so much if the person she was showing off for wasn't the caseworker! He's there to make sure Ethan is in a safe home. Luckily he knows our family well and he didn't seem the least concerned. I was horrified, though!
ps--Just to clarify, that is NOT how we get our baby to sleep!
Here we are at the courthouse after the adoption was finalized. We're thrilled to be a family of four (although we've felt that way for a long time, it's nice to make it legal)! We can hardly wait for Saturday!
Yesterday morning we were able to have our sweet Ethan sealed to us in the Jordan River temple. The ceremony was small, just family and a couple close friends. It was perfect!
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Especially when the child's not of her own flesh and bone?
I'm unable to explain how I know it, but I do.
I am the one God sent to earth to love and care for you.
It doesn't matter how you came, I just know that it is right.
I knew when you were tiny and I held you through the night.
I know each time I look into your gorgeous deep brown eyes.
I know whenever I tickle your luscious chubby thighs.
I know when we giggle, growl and crawl around the floor.
I know there is no other family who could love you more.
I know when I snuggle you in our beat-up rocking chair.
I know you are the answer to my countless whispered prayers.
The way I know seems to be what makes motherhood divine.
About this truth I have no doubt:
I know, son, you are mine.
--Heidi Hillman
December 2009



- Announcing Elijah's Arrival
- Elijah's Blanket
- Hidden Hearts
- Lucky
- Finalization Day!
- Dear Elijah
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During the weeks leading up to Elijah's birth I was terrified the adoption would fall through, for good reason (and another and another).  I wanted to make something for the baby but was anxious to start, in case we lost him.
I needed something easy, something that I wouldn't have to think about or which could potentially add more frusration to my already distressed heart. So I knit this Super Easy Baby Blanket.
 I worked on it while we watched movies or drove in the car. I worked on it at the kids' lessons, deflecting questions about who it was for with white lies such as, "My brother-in-law and his wife are having a baby boy soon" (this was true, and it was my back-up plan to give the blanket to them if our hearts were broken again, but it was not an actual answer to the question). We hardly told anyone about Elijah until after we brought him home in an attempt to pretend it wasn't happening, so we wouldn't get our hopes up.
This blanket was my way to have hope without actually acknowledging how desperately we wanted this child to be ours. After all we'd been through, we were past the point of articulating our hopes and fears. Â All we could do was wait. Each stitch represents a prayer for this little one who took so long to join our family, and is worth every tear we shed.
I finished knitting and cast off the blanket in the hospital room while Elijah's birthmother was in the early stages of labor. We were there with her, talking and laughing and dreaming of the boy we'd soon meet.
 As we did so our lives were knit together.  We will be forever indebted to that beautiful, strong young woman.  And this blanket, though very simple, will serve as a reminder of a time when our countless prayers were answered.
 After a particularly rough day last fall (The short version: Ethan was throwing a HUGE fit in the middle of the Natural History Museum.  I told him that if he didn't calm down, we'd have to leave.  He didn't calm down, so we left.  He was extremely upset and was trying to punch/kick/scream as much as possible on the way out, so Jason picked him up and carried him in a way that would keep them both from getting hurt.  We knew that if we could just get him outside, we could help him calm down.  Most of the parents we passed on the way out of the museum gave us tiny "I-feel-your-pain" smiles.  We were calm, if a little embarrassed. After we got to the car, we had Ethan sit on the curb and were beginning to help him regain control when a lady screamed across the parking lot, "Do you want me to call the authorities?"  She proceeds to lecture us, belittle us, call us bad parents, threaten to call the police, etc. This went on for several minutes, during which Ethan was distracted and stopped crying and the lady was convinced that it was her calming influence which had helped him so greatly.  Jason was finally able to make her leave by repeating, "You need to go. Go now" several times. We moved on, helped Ethan and left.  I cried all the way home. That was actually not very short; I apologize.) my sweet friend and I went out for hot cocoa and a little venting time.
The server must have been very in tune (or maybe my red puffy eyes gave her a clue), because when our cocoa arrived, mine was adorned with a heart.
Later that same week (in the midst of the turmoil of waiting for Elijah's birth), the kids and I were working on a wet-felting project with that same dear friend and her children. Â In the sudsy water appeared this perfect heart:
Call it luck or fate or whatever you'd like, but it seems to me that hidden hearts tend to pop up in places when they are most needed. Â I've seen them in the sidewalk, on days when I'm discouraged. Â I've seen them in the clouds. Â There is one on the door to my bedroom, reminding me of the love within the walls of this home.
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This hidden heart is like a love note from God. Â It's like He included that tiny detail on Elijah's skin just for me. Â He's saying, "It may not have seemed like I was listening to your prayers. But behind the scenes, in ways you can't comprehend, I was arranging things perfectly for you. Â He is worth the wait, don't you think?"
I absolutely do.
Have you seen any hidden hearts in your life lately?
As we are drawing closer to finalizing Elijah's adoption (just 22 days now!) my mind has been flooded with memories of the other times in my life when I've felt so lucky.
We didn't know it at the time, but having a biological child should not have been able to happen for us. Logically and medically speaking, that is. Knowing what we know now --after years of doctor visits, treatments, waiting, praying, hoping and disappointments-- sometimes I look at Ellie and my mind is blown by the fact that she's here.
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I am still making my way through the emotions surrounding Elijah's adoption.  It's a long story; and frankly, it's not one I'm interested in hashing out right now.  Jason and I are doing our best to overcome the bitterness, the anger and the frustrated helplessness we felt during this process.  The very condensed version is that after all we'd been through with our failed adoption, we were matched with Elijah's birthmom.  We hit it off right away.  She is amazing and strong and beautiful.
Our prayers were answered the day we brought Elijah home from the hospital. Â We thought we were finally done with the turmoil. We promptly fell head over heels for this sweet, dimpled, laid-back baby boy. Less than 2 months later, we learned that the adoption agency we'd gone through had been closed down by the state. Â Some of their practices were questionable, apparently. Â And after futher inquiry the state closed them down.
 We felt swindled and bitter.  We thought we might lose this boy we'd dreamed of and worked for and fallen in love with.  After a time we were lucky to learn that our adoption had been handled properly; everything was above-board and in place.  It was heartbreaking to hear of other families who were not so lucky.  Not only did they lose the chance to adopt, but many of them lost the thousands and thousands (and thousands) of dollars they had paid in adoption fees. Just gone.
If Elijah wasn't placed with us when he was, we would have lost our entire adoption fund (we'd paid the fees before our previous adoption failed and they were being rolled over). Â When I think about how close we came to being in that situation I can hardly catch my breath.
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"Don't you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. Â There is help and happiness ahead. Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don't come until heaven... It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come." Â --Jeffrey R. Holland
I can't count how many times I have relied on these words and this video to help me through hard days.
If you are in the midst of waiting, I encourage you to look for the little things lining up just so.  I promise you will see countless ways in which you have been blessed.
{this moment} ~Â A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.
Dear Elijah,
Baby boy, I want to remember every detail of this week. Â After so many difficulties in getting you here, after setbacks and heartbreaks and disappointments, we are finally done. Â You are officially ours! Â It feels like you've been with us all along now; funny how that works. Â It's hard to imagine our lives without your huge grin, your deep dimples and your happy screeching.
Your adoption was finalized on Tuesday. Â Our attorney and caseworker have been working hard to make sure everything was just right. Â So there would be no question where you are meant to be. Â I was slightly nervous as we sat down in the courtroom. Â It reminded me of being in court on so many other (not so happy) occasions to learn what would happen with our foster babies.
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But this time was also different: the feeling in the courtroom was light, the bailiff was joking around, our Kindlespire family was sitting in the gallery. We were not worried about losing you; we knew the outcome already. Â The judge came in and we got right to work. Â Questions and formalities were addressed. Â You screeched happily through it all, and the judge caught my eye and smiled slightly. First the caseworker, and then Daddy was questioned.
After a few easy questions, the attorney asked Daddy an important one, "Over the time Elijah has been in your home, have you been able to form a bond with him? Â Can you explain it?" Â Daddy paused as he thought about how best to answer the question. Â He smiled and tears filled his eyes. Â He said, "I love this boy. Â It was a long road to bring him here, but it has all been worth it. Â He may not look like me, but he's mine. Â He's my son."
I was asked the same questions and when my turn came I answered, through my tears," I love him. Â Like Jason said, it's been a long, difficult road. Â I'm just so grateful that he's finally here."
The judge smiled and said he felt like our home was the best place for you to be. A few papers were signed and that was that. Â We paused for a few photos with the judge, attorney, caseworker and family. Â The judge held you and commented on what a beautiful baby you are. Â You pulled on his facial hair and we all laughed.
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 Saturday was beautiful.  Our extended family and dear friends gathered at the Logan Temple.  You were sealed to us, or as Ellie called it "stuck to us like glue", for eternity. You looked dapper in a darling white outfit, complete with vest and tie, sewn for you by Grandma Hillman.  You screeched and talked through the whole ceremony. For a short time you were mesmerized by the lovely chandelier.   I can still see your handsome little face glowing with light as you threw your head back and gazed up in wonder.  A moment that will live in my heart forever.
How grateful I am to know that no matter what happens in the future you are always and forever ours!  I can't explain the feeling of comfort and peace this week has given me. I feel like the last four years of praying, waiting, hoping and disappointments have all led up to this.
My boy, you are loved. Not only did Daddy and I pray for you to join our family, but  so did many others: your siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends and people you haven't even met yet. I am certain that prayers are heard and that God has a plan for our lives.  You are living, breathing, screeching proof.
I love you,
Mommy
ps--A funny side note: despite the 13 years of marriage under our belts, Daddy and I were mistaken for a couple on their wedding day several times at the temple. 🙂