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.  The good, bad and ugly about every aspect of our lives.  Revisiting the emotions surrounding our infertility has been difficult for me.  I read this quote today and loved the imagery of it:

“The horror faded. I left it behind me in that terrible winter, but the sadness remained.  Gradually over the years, it became a member of my family, like our old dog sleeping in the corners.  I got used to my sadness, and I developed a kind of affection for it.  I still have conversations with it on cloudy days.  Come here, sadness, I say, come sit with me and keep me company.  We’ve known each other for a long time, and we have nothing to fear from each other.”
–Reeve Lindbergh  in “No More Words”
(daughter of Anne Morrow Lindbergh, who, like her mother, lost her first son before his second birthday.)
The idea of the sadness I experience becoming a part of me , just as my hope and faith shape me into who I  am, is a beautiful thought to me. The horror is gone, the overwhelming grief has passed, replaced with gratitude for innumerable blessings and answered prayers.  But at times, my heart still aches.  And I think that will always be true.
(I am not assuming our infertility grief is the same as losing a child, but tied up in that grief is the heartbreak we’ve experienced over losing our foster babies.  Two boys in particular.)

I am humbled by the outpouring of love and support we have received lately.  For example, the homeschool co-op we’re a part of is high on that list of dedicated supporters.  They have taken on our cause and are working together to raise money for our adoption.  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.  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.  I am overwhelmed by their kindness.  Truthfully, I feel a little guilty and shy about accepting their help.  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.

2 thoughts on “Grateful

    • Author gravatar

      I love that quote! I have never heard it before, yet it sums up my feelings so exactly. I wish you well in your adoption journey. There is a special baby out there that will be very lucky to find it's way to your home!

    • Author gravatar

      I actually thought of you when I read that, Heidi. You are such a great example of honesty and strength in your trials. Thank you!

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