On the precipice of joy..

To start again.....and again.

2012-02-07T10:40:00.000-06:00

I am a college student.......again. Shortly before the new year I made a last minute decision to enroll in classes and complete my nursing school application. I have no idea if I'm qualified, if I took the right required courses, or if they'll even take a second glance at my application, but I had to throw out a "fleece" to see if it might just work out this time.

This is my fourth college, and not even my last. I started this process oh, something like 16 years ago when I was a post-secondary student taking college courses while in high school. I most likely will not master the chemistry course I'm taking now, as much as my pride would like to think I could, but I will not let it discourage me from continuing to walk down this road.

The last time I did this God surprised us with Jeremiah, so I'm walking forward fully aware that at any time something might come about that changes our circumstances. But just as likely it won't and I'm determined to accomplish my degree. It's an interesting thing to juggle- my commitment to pursuing this goal and my commitments at home. I've been preoccupied for the last two weeks, the stress of deadlines completely consuming my free time. My house is an absolute DIS.AS.TER, Jeremiah has spent FAR too much time in front of the television, and I can't even remember the last time Lee and I went out on a date. So it's easy to see the sacrifice we're all making as not worth the end goal, to think I'm being a horrible mom by leaving for a few hours each week, knowing that I'm not the greatest housekeeper (would I even want to be the woman that is? I don't know..) and being gone from the house only makes it worse. But I've been waiting and sitting and doing some things with my time for the last several years, but I'm excited about challenging myself with a big life goal that is really just up to me to accomplish.

I need this for ME. Lee's excited for me and fully supports this decision. It's time for him to be the cheerleader and I think that's good for both of us. So I will keep plugging away at it, one class at a time, and yet making sure that I am all that Jeremiah needs me to be. Sounds like a piece of cake, right? I'm going to do my best to exemplify determination without compromising priorities.

But look at that face. There's no way that I could turn down an opportunity to make snowballs or go ice skating even if a test about electron configurations is breathing down my neck.

When Zumba meets a rocket ship: a recipe for significance

2011-09-27T17:49:00.000-05:00

"Oh...I never got to know you kids," she said, her eyes sad, standing what seemed like several feet below me with her hands on my cheeks. I can still feel them, those silky fragile hands, aged beyond strength and form.

They were crooked and frail yet so incredibly tender.
I didn't want her to pull them away, but at the same time all I could think was, "Why not? Why didn't you get to know me?"

I don't really know why the feeling of Norma's hands lingers with me. But it has- for the last 5 days since Aunt Freddee's funeral.

I hardly knew my dad's mother, and my maternal grandmother passed away years before I was born. But my heart still mourns and yearns for a grandmother's touch. I almost can't learn enough about who they were, especially because I know both of them would've been more than just a card at Christmas and birthdays. They would've been, oh I don't know, more.......significant than that.

Friday's events have lingered with Jeremiah as well, prompting a lot of conversations about where Freddee is now and whether or not there's a map to heaven.

"I wanna go there!" he said to me but then the conversation led down a rabbit trail that eventually ended with him quoting something or other from the movie, Rio. His questions about God and heaven are forming, and I feel a tad overwhelmed and yet excited about where Jeremiah's heart is. I know that I'll be answering questions about sin one minute and then giggling together the next about how funny it was when that one bird said, "I'm gonna pop this cage open like a sogey can!" Or so goes Jeremiah's recitation...

What's coming together for me right now is how unexpected things of significance can come about. Yesterday I purchased a cheap plaster paint-it-yourself-rocket for Jeremiah since the days have been rainy and my patience short. :) I fully intended for that to be something that would occupy his time so I could complete one task uninterrupted. But I could absolutely not say no when he looked at me and said, "You can paint this WITH me........if you WANT to."

Forget showering immediately after an hour's worth of Zumba. I sat on the kitchen floor, sweaty and sore and not feeling remotely crafty, and grabbed a paint brush.

"I real like doing this with you, Mom."
"I like doing this with you, too, kiddo."

We were done in less than 10 minutes as the majority of the rocket was painted black, J's favorite color. It was a few minutes out of my day, an interruption in my routine, but incredibly significant time spent in the life of an almost four-year-old.

It makes me wonder how many of those kinds of moments have passed me by, when something could have been but wasn't.

For years I wanted someone to step in and be the grandmother I never had- to take a moment with me and make it significant, but really how great of an expectation is that? Yikes. Too great for most. Yet I wonder, perhaps there were far too many days of interrupted routines and the 'should've-called-so-and-so-like-I-thought-about-doing' happen and those potential moments of significance were gone forever. Who knows if someone wanted to step in yet were sidetracked, like happens to every single one of us, like I almost was today.

I just don't want to see that look in my own eyes when it comes to opportunities to be significant in someone's life. Because when it comes down to it, there are some people there's no replacement for.

So this is what it feels like......

2011-08-31T09:35:00.000-05:00

Lee started his first day working in Rochester this morning. We've settled into our new house a bit, labored like crazy in the front yard so when we drive up to this new place it might actually feel like ours. I haven't finished hanging things on the walls- they're not quite familiar enough to me, these DRYWALL structures. We spent 6 years in a plaster and creaky wood built house longing for the ease of drywall and now that we have it, I can't figure out where to put stuff. I want to walk these walls and have them speak of a settled life here, but we're not there yet. There is such an air of promise here that I am so excited to jump into, but I have to take the time to rest, to settle. ( Hence, the non-blogging for the entire summer) Land first, Tiffany. Then start walking.

I have to tell you what happened about a month ago. Shortly before Lee moved down (he had to work in Duluth until the end of July) we began talking about how this move was an opportunity for a fresh start in our life. Where is God leading us? What things did we need to start being more intentional about? (DATE nights, for one!!!) Those sorts of things launched us into a conversation about how much the past 11 years of infertility have affected our relationship, our goals, etc. We did some calculations. 91.6% of our entire marriage has been clouded by infertility. Don't get me wrong- there have been AMAZING times in the last 12 years of our marriage, but never entirely free from that thing hovering in the background, sapping a teeny bit of joy from just about everything. But along came Jeremiah, sweet thing, who might someday understand that his birth and membership of our family came right smack dab in the middle of the most difficult years of my life and that because of it, he became an incredible lifeline of God's love for me.

When we started talking about how much time we've devoted to the process of just building our family, we realized how little time we've spent being the foundation of this family. Who have we become? We realized that it was due time to start altering course. So when Lee came down for a visit we went for a motorcycle ride.

It was awesome. My heart raced as we leaned through curves along the lakeshore, and my mind kept thinking, "YES! THIS is who we are!" Windblown and helmets covered with bug guts we grinned at each other.

I spent the rest of that night thinking and praying about it all. The next morning Lee had to return to work and I really felt the nudge to attend church. I'm not a fan of doing that when Lee's not there with me, but I just really felt like I was supposed to go. I loaded my purse with activities for Jeremiah and found a place in the sanctuary that would make an easy exit possible should he get rowdy.

The worship team began to sing a song that I just really don't care for, but I tried hard not to wince or sink my shoulders in annoyance. At that very moment God spoke to me. I've thought about how to write this next part in a way that doesn't make me look like a total fruit, and even as I'm typing this God's saying, "Just write it, Tiffany." Okay.

Suddenly I saw the Lord's outstretched hand before me. Darkness surrounded me except for the light glowing from his arm. Instinctively I reached for it and as I grasped onto it, he began to pull me up. I didn't even realize I was on my knees but as I stood the darkness I was wearing, and surrounded with, fell away. Underneath was the most beautiful gown- glowing, fitted perfectly to my form. The instant the darkness reached the ground he spoke, "Tiffany. I have restored you, and I have restored you to Lee."

I was flooded with images of a dance. In "real life" I grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled down the outline of what I saw. Maybe someday it can actually be acted out- we'll see. The whole thing lasted maybe a minute and afterward I stood there, trembling, pen still poised on my paper.

And just like that I knew my struggle with infertility was over. God will do whatever he wants with my children, however they come to me, but I don't NEED it to happen a certain way. He does not need to make things "right" by me. He called me out and now I just need to walk in obedience to what he did and said. My daily choice is to remember the power of that moment and to live in it. It's absolute freedom and I won't go back to the way I was before.

Now there is even more reason to take time to settle in. My heart was just completely made over and I need to let it marinate. The excitement of what's to come will not cause me to skip this step of rest, especially when I wondered for so many years when rest would come. Wondering what it would look like when it was finally over for me.

So this is what it feels like.

From How to Who

2011-05-13T23:11:00.000-05:00

We move in one week. I'm up to my eyeballs in boxes and more than anything else all I want to do is mop my floors.

Not kidding. They're disgusting and the only reason I haven't busted out my mop & glow is that I know in a matter of hours there will be graham cracker crumbs and dust bunnies dislodged from underneath the abyss that is called my refrigerator. Not to mention muddy dog paws that seem to reappear after every potty break taken in the back yard. All this is progress- boxes mean moving. I hate it. Chaos, even necessary chaos drives me absolutely insane.

So should it really surprise me that during all this necessary chaos we should get another phone call asking if we're interested in adopting again? It shouldn't surprise me 'cause apparently that's how things get rolling in our family.

These past few months have been very interesting. Who am I kidding? My life is always.........interesting. I don't think I'll be able to operate in the mundane, as refreshing as it might sound. After meeting with our fertility specialist in February, months after pursuing what we expected to be a very 'simple' treatment for our infertility issues, we walked away seriously considering something we never thought we would.
11 years of that blasted "I" word is staring us in the face come August and it's time for it to be over. We're considering in-vitro fertilization to be our last ditch effort to carry a pregnancy to term. I fight to try to figure out how much is left to me to pursue and decide and how much I need to just let go of. 11 years into it and I'm still baby steps away from square one. Do we have to pursue in-vitro so I can say we exhausted all our options? I'm still working that out, but I do know one thing: I'm ready for infertility to stop controlling my life.

I've almost let Infertility take things away from me. I say almost because God has given me a husband, who more than anything, has fought to keep ME. ME, the woman he fell in love with and married, not the woman that infertility could have changed me into. He would not allow me to lose myself to this process, would not allow me to stop fighting to salvage what was still left of that goofy 19 year-old girl he married.

I say almost because God has given me a mother who has walked it before me, has lived her own perpetual grief and yet has CLUNG to her faith, who has shown me what it looks like to stay pliable in the midst of pain.

I say almost because God has simplified the most complex of emotions into a simple statement of love for me in the form of my tulip garden.

So I'm not surprised when in the midst of making decisions about how I can end this process and choose when things get to be over, selling our house and buying one that has more bedrooms than we actually need and praying that God would fill them, that we get a phone call from a friend who has a friend who has a nephew who has 2 babies................and here we go.

God is persistent in proving to me over and over again that He's got it all worked out. The fact that it comes at the most ridiculous times for me just proves that it's Him. The MOMENT I try to take charge, no kidding, He does something absurd. Awesome, but absurd. When I titled this blog post I was thinking about how my focus has shifted from how I was going to become a mother to who I was going to mother. It's still true, but as I've been writing God's been saying, "Tiffany- your subject, Who, is ME."
I keep hmm-ing while writing this post. That's why I love it. God works on me while I write.

I keep doing that. I keep trying to figure out how I'm supposed to think, how I'm supposed to be and God keeps saying to me...........not HOW. WHO?

So I will do my best to answer in the moment.

You are God of the universe - the loving creator of everything. You, who set time and space into motion, and dreamed to fill it with man- a broken but beautiful creature you just can't help but love and consistently redeem. You are the keeper and caregiver to my babies in Heaven, who you planned and carefully tended to for the days that they were with me and who get to see your face before I do. You, who while I was in the midst of difficulty trusting, fighting you for what I wanted, set things into motion in MEXICO that eventually brought Jeremiah into my arms. You, who knows the amount of breaths I get to take and the number of hairs on my head- who takes the time to craft such beautiful tulips in my flower bed as a reminder of your faithfulness to me. You, who gently tips my chin up saying, "Not how, Tiffany...........WHO. Me."

I can't help but trust you.

Onward

2011-02-02T12:53:00.000-06:00

Our house is officially on the market. We've had a several showings over the last two weeks and I am more than anxious to progress to the next step. I don't know when a buyer will come along, but that was the whole purpose of getting the house on the market early, to give us time before life in Rochester begins.

I don't know how to say goodbye. I've never been very good at it. I don't know how to tie up loose ends with relationships that will forever be altered by distance. It was difficult to paint over the growth chart Lee and I started for Jeremiah on the kitchen doorframe. Transferring that information over to paper seemed......well, less somehow. But life happens. Change is unavoidable. There is only so much that we can pack up and take with us.

So how do you pack up and take along relationships? Given, the age of social networking has enabled them to continue or re-engage, but what about old-fashioned living life together kind of relationships? Wanting desperately to maintain what once was doesn't necessarily mean that's the healthy, natural progression of them. Almost seven years in Duluth has given us TONS of memories, great friendships, many 'firsts' in our life. It's the longest we've ever spent in one place and even though we've moved several times in our marriage, I feel like I'm learning how to leave and say goodbye all over again. It is not my strength but I want to do it well.

2011-02-02T12:24:00.000-06:00

The storm seemed to have passed rather quickly; the ability to hold on, hunker down and wait for signs of calm is getting easier and easier.

In hindsight I cannot minimize or discredit my hopes- they were pure, honest and real. In hindsight I cannot take hopes unfulfilled and toss them. I do not know what from my past means for my future but this one thing: I will continue to stand, and if I fall it will not be for long. I get no other say in the matter but that. I do not get to say when this is done, I do not get to change what has already happened- the only shot I call is whether or not to keep standing.

I could not stop the onslought of memories that brought me back to kneeling on the bathroom floor, arms protectively wrapped around my womb, begging God to spare the life of my baby; the sound of my dad sobbing on the phone when I called to tell him the baby was gone; cleaning off my miscarried baby and sending it to heaven with this blessing-
Go rest with Jesus, my darling....

The waves of absolute brokenness come without warning at times. I will not seek for truth in those moments- I will let them ride out, determined that they will not wash me away. I will cling to the knowledge that it breaks, the tide of pain breaks, if but only for a while, and then there is rest.

I cannot stop those moments, but I will let them pass and they will not damage me.

It is true that I will be saddened and grieved about the pain of life. This world is full of it, but if I cannot move beyond it, if I cannot recall the pain without being brought right back to the moment of injury and getting stuck there, then what victory have I really allowed Christ to have in my life?

I will not leash the power of God. Not for one minute.

2010-12-19T12:37:00.000-06:00

All it took was one question. I wasn't prepared for it and even though it wasn't directed at me, I couldn't react. I just turned around and walked away. 'Quickly, find something else to think about. Grab that plate, ask Jeremiah if he needs something else to eat. Is there still pop left in that can?' Anything, think about anything but the answer to that question.

"Wait, don't you have two kids now?" she asked Lee.
"No, just Jeremiah."

A brief look of confusion flashed across her face before I escaped. I spent the rest of last night trying to regain my equilibrium, hoping the conversation would not return to that topic, hoping she would wait until we were gone from the party to get an answer to her curiousity.

It's been over a year and a half, the time spent doing my very best to move forward and I was suddenly back to crying myself to sleep, prayers mingled in the giant mess somewhere.

Today I'm surprised by my weakness, wishing it weren't so easy to cry, wondering if this will ever be over this side of heaven.

I feel tethered to the pain. The chain has lengthened these last 10 years, and sometimes I feel like it's not even there. But then a question, one innocent well-meaning question asked, and I find myself staring up at the sky, backside smarting from the unexpected flop as I've been yanked back. I'm crawling to my knees today, doing my best to clean up and start walking again.

It reminds me of one afternoon while Lee and I were waiting for the first birthmom to make her final decision about her baby. Incredibly emotionally strung we spent some time along the St. Croix river in Stillwater hoping that distraction would help ease some of our tension. Sitting along the cement retaining wall I held onto our dog's leash when suddenly he started running towards another dog throwing me off-balance. My grip was strong, but still I found myself falling into the water scraping my arms and legs against the cement on my way down. Lee's strong arms helped me out of the water and as I made it back to the grass I could only stare numbly at my scraped and bloodied skin. I was dripping wet and still bleeding as Lee gently secured me in the truck. I knew he was waiting. I was waiting, waiting for it all to collapse.

The scars from that day are gone, the pain only a memory. My season of waiting for resolution and healing didn't last long, and there was finally a day when the memory of that time didn't make me weep. The addition of Jeremiah brought tremendous healing for me-I remember that well. I'm trying to hold onto that as hope for right now.

I've spent years buffering myself against pain, toughening my "skin" against well-meant questions and comments and in the process created quite an untouchable shrine in my own heart. My very private place of pain that no one could really touch. But I am not impenetrable. My pain does not belong there, and most certainly does not belong held selfishly in my heart. So I will do with it what I feel God is asking me to do, offering it as my most sacred and vulnerable possession as a form of offering. Can pain be presented to God as an act of worship?

But it is what I will do, even if my hands are still bloody while I lift them upward.

2010-11-07T22:25:00.000-06:00

I've been staring at this jigsaw puzzle for what seems like hours- not sure where to put these pieces. I know they are part of the sky that backdrops dinosaurs meandering down a dusty path. I know where they belong, but they just don't fit together. It doesn't help that the pieces are not standard jigsaw shapes, but odd and nonsensical morphed ones that I would NEVER expect a 3-year-old to comprehend regardless of what the box says. So I'm stuck here, staring at this image slowly coming together and wondering how what I'm holding in my hands is going to work into the big picture.

It's a surprisingly accurate metaphor for my life right now. I have no idea where I fit, or where I'm supposed to be. I don't know where I'm going. I feel like I'm wasting time, wasting myself, staring at this "picture" where the pieces just don't fit together.

I realize that being in a state of limbo will never be a comfortable place for anyone, even those that like change, but I cannot seem to rid myself of the feeling that I'm supposed to be doing something. I do know where we're going- our move to Rochester is right around the corner, and maybe having a huge life change within grasp makes me feel restless.

My life is consumed with preparations for our move, with little time for anything else. My to-do list is scarily similar to a lazy-susan, just spinning around and around in my head until I can slowly clear things off. Lately my life has been balancing that with a 3-year-old boy that seems to be a walking protest to my unavailability. He doesn't understand that what I'm doing is for our ultimate benefit. He just knows that he's not getting from me what he wants.

He can't see the big picture.

Ugh..... He's kind of like me.

I wish I could say that I behave better than my son when his patience has expired, that I don't throw my own kind of tantrum and freak out when circumstances just don't seem to jive with what I'm wanting. I wish I could say that I've matured so much in my life and in my faith that I'm able to offer him great life lessons about trust, patience, and unselfishness. But I find that I still have a 3-year-old's heart when I'm holding the puzzle pieces in my hand, frustration growing, and all I hear is, "It's time to put that away- we're not finishing that right now."

So instead of trying to force the pieces together, (which is something I try all too often to do and usually ends up looking like a picasso-ish disaster because I just wanted the stupid thing done already so I could move on), I'm learning to let the empty spaces between them remind me of adventures not yet taken, answers yet to be given.

I'm learning that those spaces allow room for hope and possibilities to surprise me.

Who knows?

There just might be a whole panoramic view in between those two pieces of sky.

Finding agates and burning quads

2010-11-07T21:41:00.001-06:00

One Saturday afternoon a few weeks back we loaded the truck with our bikes and headed up the shore. Countless times before we've said we wanted to ride the paved path along the Lake Superior Hiking Trail and with Fall upon us, our chances for doing it were closing in fast.

It was gorgeous. The birch along the shoreline were in their color-changing prime. Curving in and out of the woods, mostly uphill the first half, our bikeride was exhilerating and exhausting. We stopped on a bridge just past Iona's Beach, and because of the wind, the water came crashing in along the cliff beneath us.
"Jeremiah, do you want to get out and look at the water?" I asked.

"No....I gonna see it from right here." His tentative expression told me he wasn't quite thrilled with the idea of peering over the edge of the railing. I understood, not being a huge fans of heights myself. But that day, the thrill of riding fast down hills and peering over high railings was irresistable. We made it to Split Rock Lighthouse a while later and while sitting on a bench in the sun ate pears so ripe and juicy our water bottles were unnecessary. We stopped along a beach on the way back and let Jeremiah throw rocks in the water for a while. He, after all, had merely been a spectator the entire afternoon, perched cozily in his bike trailer. Energy abounding he grabbed the closest stick and began exploring the rocks. Both Lee and I sat- our leg muscles burning and too wobbly to do much else.

"Look, Mommy- I found an agate! See the colors?" Jeremiah said as he held up a tiny speckled rock. It wasn't an agate, but I loved that he assumed my most treasured lakefront pastime.

It wasn't much longer that my legs finally regained enough strength to join Jeremiah in the search. And that's when I found it. Years upon years of sifting through lake rock and I hit the jackpot. The biggest, most beautiful agate I've ever found seemed to jump out at me. Lee was on the other end of the inlet as I casually made my way over to him, the rock BURNING a hole in my pocket! My nonchalance was ridiculous because Lee took one look at my eyes and knew I had trumped him once again. (You see, it's taken years, but I've finally convinced Lee that agate-hunting is irresistable but he thinks if he's going to spend that much time with his nose to the rocks that the payoff should be often and BIG!)

I'll spare you the details of my subtle, and sometimes not so subtle gloating and just say that it was as close to a perfect day as I could've hoped for. It's been a long time coming. As each day passes and I'm that much farther away from my dark and scary place I feel more and more like myself again. A different version of myself, stronger somehow and more sensitive, too, in other places- but me! I couldn't help revelling in the freedom as the wind whipped through my hair. Let me tell you this, though, my life is far from some emotional made-for-tv-movie where the main character stands on a cliff with the wind swirling her hair as the camera pans out and the credits start to roll. But that afternoon was pretty close- and you know what? I'll take those moments any chance I can.

Sometimes a fresh coat of pain does the trick~

2010-09-11T12:50:00.002-05:00

(Previously a wine color)

I spent Labor Day weekend laboring. The dining room and living room are fantastic new colors and have completely changed the feel in my house.

I needed something different.

Even with huge life change right around the corner and a new house in the mix of things, I still needed something to change right now. Especially since I feel like myself again. I just came out of a haze that has been the last few weeks, no thanks to the medication I was on, and can breathe. We decided to pause our treatments for a while- even perhaps until after our move to Rochester. While the last few bits of chemicals were working their way out of my body I reached the epitome of all craziness. Hysterical sobbing became my nightly ritual and by the third night I knew I wasn't going to swallow that crazy pill ever again. Ever.

(Previously yellow walls)

I don't understand why these cysts keep recurring, and my normal tendency is to examine and analyze what they mean- what's God trying to tell me, what do I need to be doing differently- the whole lot. A friend asked me recently, "Tiffany, are you the type of person that analyzes everything or is a cyst sometimes just a cyst?"

Perhaps it's a literal "bump" in the road? An opportunity to rest instead of get worked up into the stressful hype that is infertility treatments? I needed this break- even though I fought against it for the first few weeks. I was ready to be done with it all, even if Lee wasn't. For the first time in 10 years we found ourselves in flip-flopped positions. But it wasn't long into our conversation that Lee spoke some kick-me-in-the-butt truth into my life.

"Tiffany, you've fought too long and too hard to quit now. This is when it really matters. Think of it this way-you've spent the last 10 years in training, molding your heart and your body. Quitting now would be like a marathoner showing up for the race, grabbing his number and then saying, 'Okay- I'm done', without ever actually running. You can't quit now."

Then a few days ago during a conversation with a friend I was once again infused with some much needed strength.

Don't you dare quit.
I'd be mad at you if you did.
I don't ever see you giving up.....

What I think I've forgotten in the whole process is the importance of being still. This process is far more difficult than the adoption stuff we did. At least then my body was stable, my mind wasn't blurred by raging hormones, and my heart, however stretched and strained and sometimes broken, wasn't indecipherable. The process was certain and confirmed. I don't have that certainty now and am trying to just REST and let it all reduce like a good wine sauce. At the end of this I completely intend to feast.

You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.

You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you. Matthew 5:3-4 (The Message)

When 10 years is actually like 15 minutes

2010-08-20T11:37:00.000-05:00

If a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years are like a day, then the past 10 years of my life are as long as HALF of a sitcom on television (15 minutes) and 3,650,000 years. Somehow I can relate to both.

I was telling Lee the other day, "How is it that I can be dealing with the same stuff after all these years? Why is it I can't see more progress?" But I've also just blinked- and here we are. Married almost 11 years with an almost 3 year-old.

15 minutes isn't a whole lot of time for extreme makeovers- even the best make-up artist in Hollywood would have their hands tied. But 3,650,000 years? Honey, a whole lot can get done in that amount of time. Hindsight perspective would show progress, but on a very slow, incremental timeline. That's how I feel today, that as much as I've been willing to progress and desiring to move forward, I'm inching along through far-too-familiar poo.

I'm impatient. I'm tired. I don't want to do this anymore. I can't stop but I don't want to keep going. Ever have days/weeks/years like that? God's completely at work in our lives right now, but I'm so stuck today on what isn't happening that I'm struggling to adjust my focus to what's is happening right now.

We are moving to Rochester next year and are really excited about it. When the call came about it on Sunday evening I wondered if we would be able to get good news twice in one week, but round 2 of fertility treatments failed today and I'm not happy about it. I'm so frustrated that I can't even properly thank God for what He's doing about our move.

I should be better at this. This is where frustration moves from my circumstances to myself and no matter where I look there's disappointment. I'm not handling this like someone with 10 years of experience. I don't want to walk forward with this lingering over me, so I want to deal with it. Right now.

I have the next 3 hours before I go into the clinic and start the next round of treatments to let God absolutely do what no Hollywood make-up artist would ever even dream of being able to do.
I'm going to let him completely re-work my heart.
He's done it countless times before (plus the 120 times I HAVE been counting) and He will do it again.

Tried and true, Fernando Ortega's album, The Shadow Of Your Wings: Hymns and Sacred Songs is now playing on my computer as I continue to write. Ahhhhh........truth from scripture that I can sing along to.

He is patient. He does not tire. He never wavers. He remembers that in comparison to him I am like the grass that withers away in the sun, therefore has no expectations that I'm going to be perfect at this, or that after 10 years I should have this figured out to a science. Whether it's one day, 15 minutes, a thousand years or 3,650,000 years, it makes no difference to Him.

"So roll up your sleeves, put your mind in gear, be totally ready to receive the gift that's coming when Jesus arrives. Don't easily slip back into the grooves of evil, doing just what you feel like doing. You didn't know any better then; you do now. As obedient children, let yourselves be pulled into a way of life shaped by God's life, a life energetic and blazing with holiness. God said, "I am holy; you be holy." 1 Peter 1:13-16

2010-08-02T18:13:00.000-05:00

"Just remember, the mess you make is the mess you clean up," was my response to Jeremiah this morning when he asked if he could cut with scissors. We have this conversation every time. But no matter how many times I tell him, when he's finished there are small scraps of construction paper littering my dining room floor and his desire to clean up is nonexistent.
"Pretend to be a dump truck, Jeremiah! Scoop it up and DUUUMP it out."
"No I don't wanna do dat."
"Okay, well you don't have to pretend to be a dump truck but you still need to clean up your mess."

What came next in the conversation was an expression of his new-found sense of independence. I'll spare you the details, but it resulted in Jeremiah spending a little bit of time sitting on the step in a time-out. Being separated from our company is heartbreaking and it doesn't usually take but about 30 seconds before he is saying, "I'm ready to be a good listener, Mom!" I'm trying to recognize when the attitude in his heart has changed versus his attempt to exert control and say when his time out is over. It's hard.

I don't always get it right. Sometimes I make him wait the full 2 minutes, other times I respond immediately with our post time-out conversation. I want him to learn that just because we're ready for something to be over, even if our hearts are in the right place, it doesn't necessarily mean that it will be over.

Tell. Me. About. It.

Today marks 10 years of our infertility journey. I kind of hate the word "journey". It seems redundant and overused and boring. So 10 years into our infertility whatever-word-is-better-than-journey, I find myself facing a date that I NEVER thought I'd see and certaily hoped I wouldn't. I was ready for this 'whatever' to be over, hmmm, about 9 years and 7 months ago. But it's taken me every moment of the last 10 years to get to THIS place, where I can say that as difficult as it's been, it's also something I've been entrusted with.

I was talking to a friend earlier today and she asked me if, since our diagnosis, I struggled with bitterness toward God or other doctors because of how common my issue is and if I wondered why this wasn't discovered 10 years ago. Honestly, I spent all of maybe 5 minutes thinking about it after we first met with Dr. Corfman, because I could not think that and look at Jeremiah without realizing that if it had been discovered all those years ago, he would not be mine.

So when I think about the time I've spent walking in intense conversation with God, I realize what a privilege it all has been. Crazy? Perhaps. You should know by now that I'm not a pie-in-the-sky kind of gal but I can tell you this right now- I've spent far too much time trying to figure out what I needed to learn, or how I needed to change the condition of my heart (beneficial processes however) and not enough time accepting what I've been given, or been entrusted with. I want to walk through this "assignment" well-and not just for the purpose of getting to the other side, but because I want to honor the One who gave it to me.

I'll let him decide when it's over.

"Each of you should continue to live in whatever situation the Lord has placed you, and remain as you were when God first called you." (1 Corinthians 7:17 emphasis added)

When dreaming of teak pergolas...

2010-07-27T14:09:00.001-05:00

The smell of this crisp northern Minnesota air is changing as the summer is progressing. Today it's raining and I can smell the promise of Fall. Big changes might be coming for us in the next few months, the biggest one obviously being a possible pregnancy. We also might begin the transfer process to another part of the state.

Though we don't even know if we'll be moving, I've already begun the list in my head of all the things I'll do differently in my life, my house, my garden. The list actually began shortly after we moved into this house when we realized how much space around us we actually NEED. I'm not talking, "Oh, we've got so much stuff that we need a bigger house." It's more like I-can't-look-out-any-window-of-my-house-without-looking-directly-into-my-neighbor's-living-room, kind of need for space. I can't stand it, and the idea of living on 30 wooded acres with a possible river running through the property just sends me into an ethereal daydream I don't want to leave.

It's hard to look at my life, my surroundings, and not think about all the ways that it could be better. No 100+ year-old paint chipping off of doorframes and floors that have needed to be resurfaced since 1995, but maybe a back deck framed in a Teak pergola woven with wisteria and paper lanterns. No more, "My back lawn isn't grass at all, it's just a dense ground-cover WEED," but maybe a rolling grassy lawn with a big maple tree in the middle where there's a swing and a treehouse with a collapsable ladder and a mounted telescope for late-night, mid-summer star gazing.

Doesn't that sound fantastic? I can get caught up in it so easily, we all can. "Keeping up with the Jones'", comparing our lives to others and what they have that we want, or even being motivated to work out harder because you'd like to have the abs of the girl on the Zumba video (guilty here of all counts, by the way).

But I was challenged many years ago, when we first started our journey of 'why-isn't-what-I-want-happening-yet', by my mother who asked me what pain I'd like to have instead. Instead of complaining about the difficulites in my life, studying my discontent and basically telling God that He's not quite handling my life very well, that perhaps I should see my struggle in a different light.

Would I switch with someone else who was trudging through a different kind of pain? Like perhaps the family on the news who's son disappeared from school. His mom just hasn't been able to straighten the covers on her little boy's bed because he left it messy the last time she saw him- would I like to trade places with her?

So maybe the next time that my grief wants to swallow me whole, or when my relationships seem to be just a bit disappointing, or that roll of fat just WON'T go away, I'll remember that it's not about me- not about what I want and what's not happening for me- and I'll pull up my boostraps once again and gratefully walk forward. Even if it is just out into my weed infested, uneven, clay-packed backyard.

Maybe this isn't about me~

2010-07-25T10:23:00.000-05:00

Three months ago Lee and I decided to pursue our final option in this whole twisted infertility journey. As much as we've pursued treatments in the past, we never felt like we were dealing with a doctor that specialized in infertility, so that possibility was always out there, floating around.

It's been interesting, balancing this infertility-stuff with already being a mom, wanting Jeremiah to always know what an incredible blessing he has been in our lives. His existence has made me what I've waited my whole life to become, Mommy. He is more than we could've ever asked for in our firstborn. That's what he is-our firstborn, even if he wasn't born from my womb.

We've always wanted a few kids, and as much as we would like to adopt again, the desire to be pregnant has never gone away.

I kept hearing about a doctor from the Cities, specializing in infertility, who made monthly trips to a clinic here in Duluth. The recommendations to see him where persistent enough that I felt like if I didn't just go and see him I would never stop hearing about it. I was going to go and just check it off the list and close the door forever.

I wasn't prepared to have hope come ripping through our lives again.

The diagnosis: 10 minutes into our meeting with Dr. Corfman, we were diagnosed with a very common, and very treatable condition: Poly cystic Ovarian Syndrome. We left that meeting with the most calming sense of relief. Finally, after 10 years, we actually knew what the problem was.

The plan: One month of birth control pills followed by 6 months of relatively easy treatments (a combination of ultrasounds and medications). Dr. Corfman said he didn't think we would even need to see him again, that confident that our problems would be solved.

This new leg of the journey started in April, and four months into the process I've just finally been able to actually start the treatments. A completely normal cyst appeared on one of my ovaries which delayed treatments by 3 months. I cannot tell you how frustrating it was to feel, at long last, like we were able to step forward only to be halted in our tracks. After 10 years you'd think 3 months would be no big deal, but I struggled, thinking, "Haven't we had to wait long enough? Why another complication?"

Round 1 was unsuccessful, and again I'm struggling. My long-waged war with hope has crept up on me again. The flip-side to hope being disappointment, of which I've tasted for so long that I feel silly for hoping at all.

"Tiffany, did you really think this was going to work? Haven't the last several years proved otherwise?"

"Aren't you satisfied with the child that you have? Isn't that enough for you? How ungrateful are you???"

It's ridiculous, and these things that I struggle with are LIES- I know that- but it's my process month after month x 120 months.

This is the time when all I have left is to go back to the basics.

What is faith?

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." (Hebrews 11:1 emphasis added)
"And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him." (Hebrews 11:6)

Hope and faith are tied together. I cannot believe that God is able to do something and not hope that He will. That was my biggest struggle for so many years- I believed that God could, but that
He wouldn't for me.

Why?

Because of past sin in my life?

Because maybe I was just being used, like a puppet, for God to communicate some truth to the masses (that just might be paying attention to my life)?

Because I am just... that... slow... in learning what God was wanting to teach me before this would be resolved?

Or how about this? Maybe this isn't about me.........at all. The selfish person in me says, "How cannot it NOT be about me? It's MY pain!!"

But what if the affects on me are important by-products but not the main goal?

What if all these years of waiting are actually because of God's intricate, love-motivated plans for my children? Maybe all these years of waiting are because there's a specific timing for when all my children are born. What they are going to accomplish, or give, or motivate, or change in the world is delicately woven into this great story that just hasn't started yet for the rest of them.

Jeremiah's has- oh, does that boy have a story about the importance of his existence, of that I'm sure, and I cannot tell you what a privilege it is to be a vital part of it. This time alone with Jeremiah, before any other children arrive, is vital to what God is going to accomplish in his life.

So as I prepare myself to begin Round 2, I am readjusting my thinking. I walk forward, knowing that God is not in the business of wasting time. I continue to hope, embracing the disappointment if it should come, and believing that God is making beautiful things out of this whole story all along the way.

Empty places to fill

2010-04-13T09:50:00.001-05:00

I'm a recent subscriber to (in)courage, a fantastic blog written by extraordinary women I hope to have the privilege of meeting someday. One story in particular really spoke to me as I read how a woman suffered the loss of her baby at 18 weeks, enduring the labor and delivery of her stillborn daughter.

I almost couldn't read it, the pull to return to my dark and scary places so strong that I had to read bits at a time, forcing myself to stay in the present. It was actually a really good exercise for me, to stay in the now, where I seem to be spending almost all of my time these days. What a relief to feel like I'm on the other side of the hump able to make continual steps forward. A year later and I finally feel like myself again.

Do you know what the most interesting part of this process has been? I actually feel blessed to have suffered- it's the strangest thing. If you had asked me a year ago if I felt like it was a privilege to watch my long-awaited miracle rip from my body I would have spiraled into the deep. Looking back though, I can say I've never in my life experienced a season where I've been so raw and vulnerable before God. Never have I been more bare, more naked of soul. To finally understand that I don't need to always "feel" God's presence to trust that He is not only there, but active.

Easter had special meaning for me, especially as I read Arianne's post. We spent the morning together as a family, revelling in the memory-making with Jeremiah and I wondered if my grief has made me a better mother to him. That if in the whole process I've been able to show him how to cling on for dear life, to wait patiently with hope (my longtime nemesis and now friend), to cherish every incredible moment and milestone, to fiercely fight through the dark and scary places, but most importantly how to love the God that we don't always understand. To let God mold, especially in the suffering.

I've been searching for significance in this whole journey since it started, more focused on how my desire would eventually be fulfilled than on what God is doing in and around me. To have made our life, our pain, our story "public" means that others are watching and waiting with us and I can't help but think of the disciples after Jesus' crucifixion. How their faith was tested when they had to see the God they believed in die, to wait while grieving their loss, to hope that loss wasn't the final chapter, to know that their process was so very public. What must if have been like to see their broken hearts and yet their stubborn determination to see it through?

So again my focus shifts and I cannot help but think of my incredible little boy, who is sponging up more of my life than I'm aware of and the incredible privilege it is to have him with us. What I want Jeremiah to believe about God has to be lived out in my own life and with that I will continue to step forward.

So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world.

1Peter 6-7

*I've been motivated to make my blog a bit more interactive and with that I pose this question: Are YOU waiting for something? Perhaps you're trudging your way through your own dark and scary place- tell me your story!

Knots and Tangles

2010-01-11T14:07:00.008-06:00

My life was changed a few weeks ago. Not anything drastic or really noticeable from the outside. I still throw my hair up in a ponytail far more than I'd like to (no glamour mommy, here), still haven't cleaned under my refrigerator since we installed it, can't bring myself to wear socks to bed even though my feet are always freezing , and only moved the Christmas garland from the porch railing to the porch floor 3 weeks AFTER Christmas. All of those things are the same as they've ever been for me.

My heart on the other hand, is different.

I met with a friend of mine at the beginning of December. 2009 was a difficult year for both of our families and I get a ton of comfort from sharing that with her. I am understood, no talking necessary. A few days before we met for coffee I had come to a startling realization while doing the dishes. Why that's thinking-time for me, I don't know, but monotony produces introspection. I was rinsing plates and loading them into the dishwasher when I stopped midstream, water dripping onto my toes when I thought: In all my beliefs of God's sovereignty and goodness, I realized that although I believed God COULD bless us with a healthy pregnancy I didn't believe that He WOULD.

For some reason I believed that it was my destiny to live in perpetual grief and unfulfilled desire just so God could show that He was in charge and I wasn't going to get my way.

When I told my friend this, it almost felt like a confession and saying it out loud was relieving. Doubt had been harbored in my mind and heart for the entire year and I finally leaked it out. I wasn't depressed by my admission, but it didn't feel like acceptance either- it was just out. Even though some relief came, it didn't feel like truth. Honesty perhaps, but not truth.

Not 3 days later our pastor preached about hope. I sighed and groaned internally throughout the message- not because I didn't like it, oh no, because it pierced me through and through.

A few days later I received a mailing from Chip Ingram's ministry, Living on the Edge. This is how it read:

Dear Tiffany,

NEED HOPE?---------------------> Romans 5:1-5

What do you do when you get discouraged? When everything in you just wants to give up, throw in the towel, or just flat out cry?

I have found that discouragement births in my thinking. Proverbs 23:7 says, "As a man thinks, so he is." The gate to your heart is your mind. What you allow yourself to believe about your circumstances may be the most important decision you make every day.

So what if you viewed your present circumstances- whether painful or pleasant- through the lens of God's wisdom? What would it do for your soul? Your emotions?

Get HOPE-------------------------> Romans 11:33-36

Hope comes when we choose to look at all of life through the lens of God's wisdom. The wisdom of God tells us that He will bring about the best possible results by the best possible means, for the most possible people, for the longest possible time.

Ever have those times where God communicates so clearly that you almost feel like an idiot because how obvious He makes it? I've known all along that the experience of this last year is full of meaning and purpose, that nothing goes to waste if I keep myself open to what God is doing. What I hadn't grasped was that the experience of this last year is God's PERFECT means to His PERFECT ends. If there was a calmer, gentler, more loving way of accomplishing whatever He's doing, THAT would have been my reality. I cannot tell you how many times I asked, "This way, God? Could there not have been a different way?"

But no, there could not, and I cannot be angry with him anymore. I cannot possibly understand how this all works together and therefore cannot tell him how to do it differently. I'm seeing knots and tangles, places where the yarn has been torn and retied, frayed a bit in some places, like-new in others. What I know is that God promises redemption-when I will see in full what He did with my life.

Have you ever come on anything quite like this extravagant generosity of God, this deep, deep wisdom? It's way over our heads. We'll never figure it out.

Is there anyone around who can explain God?
Anyone smart enough to tell him what to do?
Anyone who has done him such a huge favor that God has to ask his advice?
Everything comes from him;
Everything happens through him;
Everything ends up in him.
Always glory! Always praise!
Yes. Yes. Yes.
Romans 11:33-36

To Hope for Bliss~

2009-11-17T12:29:00.007-06:00

I survived November 7th. Approaching like a giant tidal wave, my original due date scared the living crap out of me. I kept thinking these last few months, "If I'm at least pregnant again by the time my first due date comes, then it will be at least a bit easier". I don't know why I expected any of this process to be made easier, but I guess I kind of thought that God would buffer the continuous blows along the way. I wasn't asking for it to become easy; there is no way that it could have been, but perhaps without the bitter sting of scraping along the gritty bottom. I felt that if I could at least just live with my head above water for a bit I could SEE the place I would finally be marooned. But as each blow came I was pulled under, swirled around, and left sputtering and gasping for air, relief, peace.

A friend began to pray Psalm 91 for me knowing what was coming my way, asking God to tuck me under His wings and let the storm pass over me, that I would be sheltered, protected, and possibly even comforted. Intensity grew with each day that passed, finally peaking the day my friend delivered her baby due the same time mine was. Weeping into Lee's arms I kept asking, "Why did it have to be this way? Why? Why like this?" And even as I wept for my babies, my disappointment, my absolute brokenness, I knew what God was asking me to do.

Let it go.

No more should've-beens, no more what-ifs, no more whys, AND go to the hospital to visit this brand new baby girl, something that I had already decided months ago that I wasn't going to be able to do. I still don't understand why God keeps asking me to do these really hard things, why I feel like I'm under constant demolition and construction. I understand that suffering produces all these incredible qualities, but was I really that bad to start off with that I required this much character-producing heartache?

A few Sundays ago a drama video played during the service where "God" took a hammer and chisel to this guy to shape and mold, blah blah. All the while this video played and I heard the "tink-tink" of the chisel and I couldn't help but think how inaccurate the drama was. Maybe for that guy it was as simple as "tink-tink" here, and "tink-tink" there with a little "Ooh, ouch that hurts", but nothing about these last several years (this one in particular) has felt anything like a chisel. How about a wrecking ball? Explosives? THAT I'd like to see in a drama.

So as I prepared to go to the hospital I was expecting to be shattered once again. But an interesting thing happened as I made my way to my friend's room........I was okay. I didn't even have to stuff it or pretend; I was actually okay and not once while I was there did I think that I should've been across the hall in my own room. Walking the hall with Jeremiah toward the elevator, a hospital volunteer bent down, greeted him and asked if she could give him a trick-or-treat bag. For some reason being able to share that moment with Jeremiah, where his eyes got huge when he squeaked out a humble, "Sank-ooo!" (thank you), was a sweet time when I wondered if the whole time at the hospital was going to be torturous. I loved that it ended up being a fun, meaningful time for not only me and Jeremiah, but for me and my friend as well.

Holding her baby was healing for me, ending the anticipation of something I thought was going to be excruciating. Not once while I held her did I have to say, "This is not my baby." I had already held a newborn after my loss and I can't tell you why that helped me, but it did. So as I left the hospital I felt undeniable relief. A promising sense considering how I had spent the last several months. I only hoped it would continue through my due date.

And wouldn't you know? It did. Not a sense of bliss, certainly not, but breathing room in the noose I've been wearing. Is it possible that I'm on my way out of "The Great Sadness", like is described in The Shack? Like I mentioned in my last post, I've been at odds with myself in how to approach this season of silence with God. Tempted to escape it all and satisfy whatever I feel like satisfying and then wanting to stick it out to prove myself faithful, desiring to put myself into God's good graces. I just want it to be made right, I want to walk in success- even if it's just for a while. I want this all to mean something beyond the promise of personal growth.

O Lord, come back to us! How long will you delay?
Take pity on your servants!
Satisfy us each morning with your unfailing love,
so we may sing for joy to the end of our lives.
Give us gladness in proportion to our former misery!
Replace the evil years with good.
Let us, your servants, see you work again;
let our children see your glory.

And may the Lord our God show us his approval
and make our efforts successful.
Yes, make our efforts successful! (Psalm 90:13-17)

So I guess I stick it out and wait for God to make it right, for my years of suffering to be replaced with years of bliss (can I be so bold as to hope for bliss?), for the days and days upon days upon years of emotional and spiritual construction to be fruitful, successful and with much-awaited approval from God.

2009-10-05T13:20:00.006-05:00

I have a moment of peace right now. It's naptime, freshly baked ginger snap cookies are cooling on the countertop, and pandora.com is soothing me with ballads from the likes of Allison Krauss and Patty Griffin.

This is the only moment of peace I've had so far today. It's been a day full of pain and I'm so very exhausted but I find that my desire to write has finally returned after a several month hiatus. Depleted beyond words I've had nothing to say. Nothing intelligible, anyway, as the tides of continuous grief have swept over and over again. We lost another baby in July and the following two months were consumed with almost insurmountable anger. I do not ever want to experience pain like this again. My faith has been bloodied and I've begun to live in expectation of grief rather than joy. I expect pain rather than blessings and am not sure what to do with that. I'm disappointed that this is what I've become and wonder just exactly what God thinks of me.

But even as I write words come to me, "He remembers that we are dust". So now I'm going to Google that to find the full passage...

Here we go:
The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.
He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;
for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust (Psalm 103:8-14).

My prayer lately is that I would be able to experience God's love in a tangible way rather than His seemingly painful sovereignty. I'm still waiting and wondering how much of my own junk is getting in the way. I can see God's love in all the "generic" ways- job, home, health, etc. But is it okay to say that right now I want more? Sometimes I even feel entitled to it, like God has to give in order to make right what went so wrong this year. So here I am, dust, having entitlement issues. THAT, I feel, is my biggest hurdle. When did I start feeling like I deserved anything good? But when has God ever been in the business of treating people as they deserved, whether good or not?

I find myself vascillating between the behavior of the brothers in the parable of the prodigal son. Wanting what I want when I want it, I storm away and pretend that what I'm pursuing is going to replace not only my desire but being in close relationship with the father. Other times I sit in my disappointed entitlement and can't believe why God wouldn't honor my obedience, my years of doing what was "right", my faithfulness. But both are on my terms, aren't they? I know I'm not supposed to be either brother, but what I'm supposed to be is elusive at best.

So I'll eat my fresh cookies, perhaps even make myself another pot of coffee, and continue to pray that God shows me what in the world to do with myself all the while hoping this precious moment of peace will carry me through the rest of the day.

The hand that holds the needle~

2009-06-29T11:22:00.002-05:00

Three months have passed since losing the baby and I felt like I was off to a good start, acting as though I had this grieving thing down and could just blast through the process. I have failed miserably at doing that, however, and have spent far too much time than I would've liked in the dark and scary places. I don't know if I'm past it yet, but really hate who I am in it so am eager to move, to breathe without the pressure in my chest, to look up into people's eyes and smile like I mean it. I'm lonely, but don't want anyone around.

It seems that all that was safe and dependable has been lost and I'm fighting the urge to start over completely in an entirely different place. My grief will follow me, that I know, but the things in my life that are like big, sharp, chunky, grains of salt in my wound will not face me every day, tempting me to destroy my relationships, my ability to be involved with anything church-related, and satisfaction with my life as it sits today.

I want the last nine years to have meant something. There are days when I feel like I'm back to square one and all the lessons I learned about waiting patiently for my desire to be fulfilled, loving others who are being blessed while I still wait, being content with the here and now, are not applicable anymore. I know they should have prepared me for this time but I wonder how well I actually, if at all, learned. I'm no longer grieving a desire, but a person who I loved so very much and never got to know. Time, I've decided, and space from all that obligates me, seems to be the only solution. Things I've been involved with over the last few months are slowing down and clearing from my plate and I am not replacing them with anything. Almost like God is saying, "Tiffany...............stop. Stop everything." I'm fighting the urge to reply...."Why? What do YOU want? I don't really want to talk to you right now."

But I sense there are some things that need to be said, some tending-to in the really raw places and as much as I don't want to spend time dissecting my pain I long for the peace that comes afterward. It's like digging around to get that sliver out all the while squirming against the process.

"Hold still so I can get it out."
"Nooo, it hurts!"
"I know it does, sweetheart, but the sooner we get it out the sooner you'll feel better."
And at long last relief comes, trust restored and confirmed in the hand that held the needle. I'm praying God's grace and mercy to cover my life. Praying that I begin to have more good days than bad. Praying that God gives me what I am completely lacking, that I wouldn't be interested in trying to do this alone, that my heart would soften towards Him and what He's obviously doing in my life. Praying for endurance to do this whole waiting thing again, for strength to resist the downward pull into yucky places, for joy to return.

"God wants the combination of his steady, constant calling and warm, personal counsel in Scripture to come to characterize us, keeping us alert for whatever he will do next. Oh! May the God of green hope fill you up with joy, fill you up with peace, so that your believing lives, filled with the life-giving energy of the Holy Spirit, will brim over with hope!" (Romans 15:4, 13 The Message)

Enter the Silence~

2009-04-18T09:55:00.006-05:00

I must be entering some new stage in the grieving process, or just realizing that I've spent the last month in relative silence. Oh, there's been plenty of noise but the silence I'm talking about has more to do with me and God. I don't really know how to talk to Him right now and I'm desperately attempting to cling to the faith I once knew. We are literally surrounded by difficult circumstances that seem almost unbearable and I don't know how to join the bandwagon that says these difficulties are not God's doing. I cannot tell you how many times these last few weeks people have said we've been robbed from and that God's angry about it. Honestly, I don't believe it. The God I believe in is not taken by surprise by anything and certainly does not have things snatched from His hand. Sure it would be easier to believe that God only does good, or what we can see as good, instead of believing that God brings and not just allows grief. And you know what? I'm okay with that. Even if my current circumstances make it harder to see how God could make anything good of this that will make up for the loss.

I've been reading this passage in Lamentations 3 quite a bit lately:

"21 I'll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I've swallowed. I remember it all—oh, how well I remember— the feeling of hitting the bottom. But there's one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:
22-24 God's loyal love couldn't have run out, his merciful love couldn't have dried up. They're created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over). He's all I've got left.
25-27 God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits, to the woman who diligently seeks. It's a good thing to quietly hope, quietly hope for help from God. It's a good thing when you're young to stick it out through the hard times.
28-30 When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Bow in prayer. Don't ask questions: Wait for hope to appear. Don't run from trouble. Take it full-face. The "worst" is never the worst.
31-33 Why? Because the Master won't ever walk out and fail to return. If he works severely, he also works tenderly. His stockpiles of loyal love are immense. He takes no pleasure in making life hard, in throwing roadblocks in the way;"

So I've got to believe that my relative silence has got to be more about waiting for hope to appear than that God is absent. I cannot believe in a God who makes Himself unavailable to me, so instead I willingly 'enter the silence'.

I started writing this post last weekend and am now just returning to it (Wednesday). Sunday brought the beginning of some much-needed healing for me. As I listened to our pastor pray and thank God for the trial he's facing in his own family I knew it was time to follow suit. I almost couldn't believe that I was thanking God for the miscarriage- not like, 'Thanks God that my child is dead', but, "God you have proven yourself to me time and time again that nothing, absolutely nothing that happens in life is wasted. I hold that to be true right now and believe that this is evidence that you are actively working in my life- however painful the procedure might be. Thank you for this time...."

Ugh, it was not easy to do at all and I almost felt like it was something my mind was doing with the expectation that my heart would fall in line at some point, but when I got home and talked to Lee about what was going on I knew that something had shifted for me.

I don't know where this is going. I still don't entirely know how to talk to God right now, but I know that the bible says that when there are no words the Holy Spirit intercedes on our behalf. At times I feel my spirit groan and even if I can't put words to it or explain exactly what I'm feeling, God knows it thoroughly to the very last breath. I know that it's time for me to start moving forward. So I will take this step, this one beautiful but little bit scary step and wait, wait, wait for hope to appear.

As Deep calls to Deep~

2009-03-28T16:01:00.003-05:00

Early Pregnancy Loss.

That's what I watched the doctor scratch onto the lab forms during last Thursday morning's appointment. I lost the baby. I knew already that I lost it- I felt it rip away from my body and watched as it passed. A few sharp pains and my dream was gone.

But as I watched him write those words, I just wanted to scream, "STOP! You can't write that! Write something else!!" Something that wouldn't be such a stark conclusion to the brief weeks of beautiful promise I had been living. But there they were, those black scrawled letters screaming at me while I carried the form down to the lab. My eyes met Lee's and we spoke not a word, but poured our hearts out to each other all the while trying to stay out of the way of the phlebotomist. Could she hear all the words we were crying out to God? She had propped the form up next to her computer and all I could do while she was taking blood from my arm was stare at those three blasted words.

Last Wednesday had been spent cramping and spotting and as the day neared its end I knew something wasn't right. I rocked and rocked all the while praying, "Please, please, please save my baby! With a snap of your fingers, God, all could be well! Please don't take this away from me." But still the cramps came, the spotting never ceased.

In the morning when the baby passed I tended to it as best I could. I needed to hold it, to see it, to solidify in my mind and heart that it was real. I washed the tiny sac and held it in my hands. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm just so sorry I couldn't keep you longer. Go rest with Jesus now. Go rest with Jesus......"

As soon as the ground thaws our baby will be buried by my tulips in the backyard.

"Each bulb placed in the flowerbed had become a prayer- for freedom from the ache of the last several years of infertility, for understanding why I was unable to be whole, without constant pain... and as I dug down into the dark soil I began preparing my heart for change. A memorial, of sorts, was created and at the risk over over signifying and over spiritualizing things I cannot help but look at those flowers as a symbol of God's faithfulness! He took what I used for peace and closure and tripled it to blow me away. To me, it's just another sign of His desire to bless and a reminder of how He did." -May 17, 2008 entry

So here we are again, broken and waiting, trusting God to be who He claims to be when the ache of my loss tells me otherwise. How long and how deep must my sorrow run in this journey? As I cried and prayed myself to sleep last Thursday night that's all I could say. " How long and how deep, God?" In the morning when I woke up the words to Oh the Deep, Deep love of Jesus came over me.

Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus,
Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!
Rolling as a mighty ocean,
In it's fullness over me!
Underneath me, all around me,
Is the current of thy love.
Leading onward, leading homeward,
to my glorious rest above!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus.
Spread His praise from shore to shore!
How He loveth, ever loveth,
changeth never, nevermore!
How He watches o'er His loved ones,
died to call them all His own.
How for them He intercedeth,
watcheth o'er them from the throne!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus,
love of ev'ry love the best!'
Tis an ocean vast of blessing,
'tis a haven sweet of rest!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus,
'tis a heav'n of heav'ns to me.
And it lifts me up to glory,
for it lifts me up to Thee!

It seemed to me that God was reminding me that however deep my sorrow runs, His love is deeper. I'm really trying hard to see that right now.

We already know all the things people are saying in their attempts to console. What helps is just knowing that people are hurting and praying with us, and hoping for us that God will pour out some much-needed love and bless us again. (Thank you to all of you that have been praying and sending cards, flowers, notes- we really do appreciate you thinking of us...)

I cannot argue with God on this one point- where our child rests is better than being with us, but as a mother I want to hold my child here and now. How grateful I am for the beautiful boy that spends his days seeking my arms, hugs, and kisses! God has used Jeremiah in so many ways to heal my heart and I love that little man more now than ever before. What else can I do but persevere? God has been faithful, He will be again.

Miracle of all miracles.....

2009-03-17T16:21:00.008-05:00

By this time in my life I really shouldn't be surprised by anything, but for the first time in 8 1/2 years.........I'm PREGNANT!!

To say that we are surprised is a major understatement, and I've been riding this crazy wave of emotions for the past two weeks since we found out. I looked at three pregnancy tests that all told me the same thing, but still I couldn't wrap my brain around it- I still can't, but I guess that's partly due to the events leading up to the evening of March 2nd.

January was Sanctity of Life month and I was asked to share Jeremiah's story with our church's congregation, so at the end of the month I got up in front and began to share our whole story. How could I just share Jeremiah's story without giving a little background on where we were in life? So what was meant to be 10 minutes turned into 25 and it became evident that God wanted the whole story told. God moved in the congregation that Sunday- I don't even know how to fully explain it, but it was almost like a reverberation. Anyway, suddenly our life and the most sensitive struggle was opened up for all to see but was met with incredible support.

The following week we were approached by a woman who said that while I had been speaking she felt this incredible burden to pray for us and she attempted to find us after the service. We had already left but the burden persisted during the week so when she saw us that next Sunday she knew she had to grab us. A circle of people formed around Lee and me, and prayers for healing in my body, that I would conceive, that we would be encouraged, and hope began to swirl around us. Stunned and curious we left for home. As we got into the truck I looked at Lee and said, "Wow. I have no idea what to do with that....."

"I don't think we're supposed to do anything with it," he said. "I think God was just encouraging us, letting us know that it's still on His mind."

'Okay', I thought, 'I can handle that'. I spent the next several days processing through what occurred on Sunday morning, trying desperately not to work myself into expectations that things were going to happen in a specific time frame. So again there was hope that I would conceive, hope that never really disappeared but was set aside for so long that I didn't know how to cling to hope without facing harsh disappointment month after month after month. I didn't want to do that again. Pray and wait, pray and wait, pray and wait. The story of my life.

The next week brought turmoil that I hadn't seen in over two years; low lows that made anything baby-related extremely painful. I couldn't understand why I was struggling so much. I kept praying all week for God to prepare me for disappointment. One evening as I was praying I realized that at some point over the last several years I stopped asking God for what I really wanted and hoped for. I had been asking for all good things: peace, patience, a joyful attitude towards pregnant women, joy in my life as it is today, etc. But I had stopped asking for God a pregnancy. So I started asking, all the while saying "Okay, God. I'm asking....show me how to do this..."

I came down with a really nasty cold and spent the next week drugged with as much dayquil and sudafed that I could in order to survive the day. As the weekend approached I fully anticipated that I would start my cycle. Lee left town for a few days and I spent the weekend trying to get over my cold and take care of Jeremiah. Each morning I wondered about taking a test, but then feeling silly because I knew as soon as I did things would begin and I would've just wasted the money. I also knew I couldn't take a test while Lee was gone. We made an agreement over 8 years ago that we would always do it together. Monday rolled around and still nothing had started and I began to get frustrated. 'Of course this would be the month that things would be off for me! Why do I have to be late this month of all months?!? Haven't I already been struggling and now this? This is absolute torture!'

That evening I talked with my mom on the phone and I told her that I was late and struggling with it. "Can you take a test yet?" she asked me.

"I could, but I just really don't want to go there."
"Why not? Why not just solve the mystery and have peace of mind? Watch, you're pregnant and have been taking cold medicine all week......"

Agreeing that I would call her once I decided what I was going to do we hung up and I returned to my evening with Lee. We watched The Bachelor and it actually was a really good distraction. I was getting ready for bed when I decided to take some more cold medicine in order to get some good sleep. As I was ripping open the package to the tablets my mom's words came back to me......'Watch, you're pregnant and have been taking cold medicine all week....'

'Fine!' I thought, 'I'll just do away with the wondering so I can get some decent, guilt-free sleep!'
I had one pregnancy test left from when we were in the midst of fertility treatments back in '06. As I grabbed it I noticed that it had an expiration date of June 2008 but I thought- 'Who cares when all I need is a negative result in order to take this medicine?' I didn't even tell Lee what I was doing because I honestly didn't think I needed to involve him in it. Not even 15 seconds passed and TWO LINES appeared on the stick. I freaked out and ran downstairs.

"Lee, you've got to come upstairs right now." That's all I could say- I couldn't even tell him why. The poor guy thought something was wrong with Jeremiah but like I said, I couldn't even speak. I just pointed to the test.

"You've got to be kidding me!!" he said. "Are you kidding me?"
"It might not be real....what if it's not real?" Suddenly I really cared about that stupid expiration date. So we ran downstairs and did the only thing we could think of doing. We Googled it.

"False positive result on expired pregnancy test" To which we got absolutely no clear direction. The only option we had was to take another, NEW, test. Sweet Lee headed out to Walgreen's and came back 20 minutes later with a 4-pack. He ripped open the box and handed me a new test.
"What, now? I don't have anything left!!"

"Girl, if I have to scare the pee out of you I will. You're taking another test! Go!"

Back upstairs I went all the while praying, "God please let me have enough to wet the stick!"
Sure enough I did and immediately put the test on the edge of the tub. I couldn't watch the result appear and pulled the shower curtain closed, hiding the sacred test while it did its thing. No sooner had I pulled the curtain closed that I opened it back up to see, once again, TWO LINES. I bawled and bawled and bawled. "I've got to call my mom!!" Racing downstairs once again I grabbed my phone and dialed my parents' number.

By this time it was about 11 o'clock at night. I woke them up only to speak absolute gibberish to them over the phone. "What, honey?" they kept asking.

"There are TWO LINES!! There are two of them........whahahahahah." Seriously, I'm not even exaggerating. I really made no sense but somehow we were able to rejoice together in what had happened. We spent the next few hours making wake-people-from-the-dead-of-sleep phone calls and finally settled into bed after 1am. Needless to say we didn't really sleep that night and the next morning I took another test for good measure.

I've been walking around the past two weeks in a state of shock. I feel great, have had no morning sickness (yet) and almost feel like I'm pretending. I have the tests in my kitchen still, so that when I have moments of disbelief I just look their way and believe it to be true once again. Toward the end of last week I got a little scare and went in for blood work. My hormone levels were low and I was able to go in on Friday afternoon for an ultrasound. The doctor was unsure if what we saw was the pregnancy sac or just a blood clot and scheduled me for another appointment for this morning. Friday was a very difficult day for me. I knew that God had done a miraculous thing in allowing me to conceive, but I wasn't sure if I trusted Him to complete the process. You'd think I'd have learned that lesson by now, but the pain of disappointment lingers even when the big picture has been revealed. I was terrified that He was giving this to us only to test our faith again by taking it away. I almost lost the joy in being pregnant and couldn't really even think clearly until Saturday. Lee and I had a huge conversation and he challenged me to believe that God blessed completely. A friend quoted Proverbs 10:22 to me and I revisited that over and over again.

"The blessings of the Lord make a man rich and He adds no sorrow with it." The question was whether or not I was going to believe that to be true. Saturday and Sunday were spent in prayer and clinging to the assurance that whatever was coming our way was God's doing. I couldn't attempt to start controlling events that I did not put into motion. God did that, and my part was believing Him, praising Him. Like our pastor preached on Sunday, worry and thanksgiving cannot coexist. Which one was I going to choose?

So this morning as my mom and I sat in the exam room waiting for the doctor I was..... excited. Nervous, but excited. I was going to see my baby. And I did!! What the doctor was concerned with on Friday was resolved today as we saw this tiny thing appear. Suddenly we saw a flicker, like a small little blink. Again and again we saw the heart beating - a most miraculous moment- and my heart was overwhelmed with thanksgiving. I could feel my body relax all the tension that had built these last few days. I know my journey in trusting God to complete what He started has only just begun. This baby will be born shortly after Jeremiah's second birthday. God knew that a desire of ours was to have our children close together- like two years apart, and He answered THAT TOO! How cool is God? Really. So cool.

450 Nights

2009-01-02T13:26:00.005-06:00

The other evening as I was putting Jeremiah in his crib for the night the thought crossed my mind of how many times I had done just that very thing. I think the number hovers somewhere around 450. That sounds like a lot, but I've only just blinked and the time has been spent. As I'm sure almost every mother does, I grieved a little bit over the time that has gone by feeling like I didn't get enough of it. I don't think I ever will, though, but I'm determined not to be one of those women that weeps uncontrollably at her son's wedding (you can hold me to that, I promise).

Since my last entry Jeremiah has blossomed into this incredibly animated and somewhat precocious child and I absolutely LOVE it. We spent the latter part of September taking hikes through Fall foliage up the North Shore, and most of October celebrating Jeremiah's first birthday and all his developments. I think one of the most incredible moments of this past year was hearing him call me Mama. I never tire of hearing that- not ever. It's a title I wasn't sure I would ever have, not much less hear coming from my child's lips and I am just so very grateful. I've been a bit addicted to watching this show called The Locator, which is all about reuniting people. I watch, transfixed, as I see person after person with an ache to reconnect with someone, listening to their stories of feeling incomplete or less than loved completely. Jeremiah may decide someday to explore his biological roots- I have to be okay with that- but what I am not okay with is that search ignited by inadequate love on my part. He has been and will continue to be, more than enough for me, above and beyond what I could have imagined, and I pray that is communicated to him every moment of every day.

We hope and pray that God continues to grow our family, and even still hope for at least one pregnancy. I'm processing through how to desire something without feeling guilty for wanting it when I've been given such an incredible gift. Is it ungrateful? I don't think so. Is it normal? I hope so. Does it diminish my love for Jeremiah or the recognition of what God did? Absolutely not. I'm holding it gingerly for the time being, not quite sure what to do with it but to continually trust God's plan like we've been doing for the past 8 1/2 years. God has been faithful, He will be again.

Obviously I have my hands full at the moment, and when I do have those moments of uncertainty, all it takes is one look into those huge brown eyes and it's almost like he's been given to me all over again. What more could I possibly ask for but more and more nights like the 450 I've already had?

Walking!

2008-09-22T09:26:00.008-05:00

Autumn hair smells like my childhood~

2008-09-08T09:32:00.005-05:00

Yesterday I took Jeremiah down the sidewalk in his new buggy. That brilliant design let him grab a hold of the rear end and escort it along the path. The air was cool, crisp and left my mouth watering for anything apple and gingery. I absolutely love this time of year and think it's the greatest thing that Jeremiah is a fall baby. I, too, have a Fall birthday and believe it to be the most magical of seasons to celebrate. Forgive me, you who were birthed in other seasons, but I love that my son and I will get to share similar memories of autumn colored birthdays. So yesterday when we spent some time walking, I scooped him up for a smooch on his cold cheek and got the most amazing whiff that transported me back to years upon years ago. Time stood still for a moment and every memory of apple orchards and raked leaves washed over me with the breeze that had penetrated his hair. I couldn't get enough of it. I also couldn't get enough of this last year, one that has gone by so incredibly fast, too fast. One year ago, last week was when I met Marisol for the first time.

On Labor Day as we swam in my sister's pool my mom looked at me, saying, "Can you believe it? One year ago today we met her for dinner. Now look at us!" I don't remember not knowing Jeremiah and I can't grasp who I was back then, but I know how very much I love right now. I've never lived in the present before, not until Jeremiah came. I tried, sure, but spent most of my time trying to imagine the future with whatever hope I could muster. All of this became even more evident to me as I read The Shack, a book I'm completely absorbed in right now.

"Such a powerful ability, the imagination! That power alone makes you so like us. But without wisdom, imagination is a cruel task-master. If I may prove my case, do you think humans were designed to live in the present or the past or the future?"
"Well," said Mack, hesitating, "I think the most obvious answer is that we were designed to live in the present. Is that wrong?"
Jesus chuckled. "Relax, Mack; this is not a test, it's a conversation. You are exactly correct, by the way. But now tell me, where do you spend most of your time in your mind, in your imagination, in the present, in the past, or in the future?"
Mack thought about it for a moment before answering. "I suppose I would have to say that I spend very little time in the present. For me, I spend a big piece in the past, but most of the rest of the time, I am trying to figure out the future."
"Not unlike most people. When I dwell with you, I do so in the present- I live in the present. Not the past, although much can be remembered and learned by looking back, but only for a visit, not an extended stay. And for sure, I do not dwell in the future you visualize or imagine......"

Right now is most definitely not the future I visualized or imagined.....it's even cooler. God is speaking into my life at this moment, reminding me briefly of where I have been and what He has done, all with a little help from the autumn breeze.

2008-07-29T23:52:00.014-05:00

I've got this crazy mask on my face, one that I should've washed off a while ago, but am forgoing my much-needed rinse for a chance to sit undisturbed on the computer. Lee is out of town, Jeremiah's asleep upstairs and I have this moment; and it's one I don't want to lose.

My little boy crawled today for the first time. Sure, there's been movement prior to this and at points I wondered if he would ever get the forward motion rather than continue to scoot himself backward until he was bent in half underneath the coffee table. I am raising a boy, therefore I LET him scoot under the coffee table and give him a second to realize his situation before I run to his rescue. He's figured it out now and as I watched him stretch out his legs until only his toes were touching the floor, palms flat in front of him on the carpet I couldn't help but tear up. I've been WAITING for him to finally put the pieces together and it was the coolest thing to see it happen. Even though I had been showing him exactly what he needed to do with his arms and legs, set countless enticements in front of him, he didn't move forward until he realized that going backwards wasn't getting him where he wanted to go. Could that be any more applicable to my life?? It's amazing how much I'm learning about following God through parenting my 9 month old son.

It's been a very busy summer, starting with our finalization hearing on June 2nd! Jeremiah is legally a GEAR and I now have his birth certificate to prove it! It was a bit of a melancholy day for me, bittersweet almost. As great as it was, it almost felt unnecessary- like I was finalizing something that was already done. It was interesting to sit behind the big wooden desk and respond to questions from the judge sitting miles away from us in her lofty roost. She was incredibly sweet, an adoptive parent herself, and was genuinely happy to officiate the adoption. None of the information she spoke of was new to me (except for sharing the name Marisol gave to Jeremiah), but somehow when she was talking I began to feel morose. It was the strangest thing. Both Lee and I talked about it afterward because we left the courthouse going, "Okay- that's done." No particular extreme significance was attached to the process because Jeremiah was ALWAYS ours, officially, since he was placed in our arms at 6 minutes old. I didn't expect to feel that way that day, since it was special, but nothing changed for me on June 2nd other than to complete the process. We probably will celebrate it every year, however, just to have another reason to rejoice over Jeremiah. And who doesn't want another reason to party and engorge themselves on ice cream?

I've had numerous opportunities this summer to share Jeremiah's story. It's something I've been praying about since October, knowing that it's one to be shared but not knowing how to share it. A few weeks back as I was driving I contemplated about running to a few stores before I headed home, desperately wanting to find a new rug for Jeremiah's room. Friends of ours bought this adorable rug at Shopko which peaked my interest as to what they just might have for me. I don't know why it was something that caused such deliberation in my mind but I went back and forth: Should I go to Shopko? Should I just go home? Should I go to Shopko? Should I just go home? Back and forth, back and forth. It was kind of annoying.

"Go to Shopko."

Umm.....what was that?

"Go to Shopko."

Really? Ok............I'll go to Shopko....wow....

There have been a few times in my life where it seems like God is speaking audibly, and this strange instruction left me baffled, to be completely honest. I was thinking, 'What rug could possibly be this important that God himself would direct me to it?'

I veered onto the exit that would take me up to the mall area and maneuvered my way into the Shopko parking lot. Jeremiah had fallen asleep during the drive and I thought, 'Great! He'll just snooze while I meander through the store and I won't have to entertain him.' I had no sooner walked inside when Jeremiah opened his eyes and grinned at me. Little squirt. I made a beeline for the rug department and was frustrated to find that there was no rug shining light from Heaven upon me. Deciding to look at shoes I made my way to the other side of the store, found two adorable pairs of shoes for under $17 and decided to kill a little more time before I headed home. I pushed my cart into the lotion aisle and bummed around there for a few minutes until I saw a female employee turn into the same aisle, gathering randomly stashed items from careless, lazy customers (of which I am guiltily included) and placing them in her cart. I smiled the obligatory we-now-occupy-the-same-space-so-I'll-smile-hello at her and continued with my business until I heard her say, "Oh, I've got to come see that baby!" Not a surprise, for Jeremiah creates a following wherever he goes.

"Who's got the cutest little toesies? Hmmm?" And so on and so forth like most women do. Jeremiah just stared at her, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what in the world this woman was doing. He's incredibly observant, studies people almost making them uncomfortable.

"Come on sweetheart," I said, "smile and say hello!"

Say his name.

'What? Why?' I thought.

Say his name.

'Ok, I'll say his name...'

"Say hello, Jeremiah." After which the woman looked up at me, seemingly surprised.

"Jeremiah?!? That's a big, strong name little boy. Are you going to grow up to be a prophet too?" Aha.....a believer. 'Where are you going with this Lord?'

"Maybe." I replied, "He sure does have a story to tell. You've got to hear his story."

I proceeded to tell her the story of Jeremiah, starting with our failed adoptions and then how Marisol met Cristina. When I got to the point in the story where I tell of how Cristina and my mom met, her eyes widened, she gasped "Ohhhhhh......" and started to weep. Right there in the middle of the lotion aisle at Shopko. "We've got to pray over this baby boy right now," she said once she composed herself, and she prayed a beautiful prayer of protection over my son and thanking God for crossing our paths.

"You'll never believe this, " she said. "God has been bringing young women across my path lately that are either dealing with unwanted pregnancies or abortions and I have absolutely no experience in either of those areas, (thank God), but I have had nothing to share with them. Now I do! Now I can share the story of your beautiful family with these women to show them hope. And I heard it in the lotion aisle at Shopko of all places! Wait 'till I share this with my family tonight, they'll all be cryin'."

We hugged, we encouraged each other and I walked away thinking, 'That's why you wanted me to come to Shopko. Thank you Lord for that.' That and two cute pairs of shoes!

So it just went to show me that God has His plan for how this story will all come about (still....duh, Tiffany) and if I would just pay attention to what He's showing me instead of scooting myself backwards under the proverbial coffee table, I might just connect the dots a bit sooner.

Now my face is like the desert sands because I've left this crazy mask on for far too long and I'm realizing that if I don't go to bed straight-away I just might not have energy to face that active little boy at the ridiculous waking hour of 6am. But this time, this moment, was awesome.

What a difference a year makes.

2008-05-17T07:33:00.012-05:00

The days could not have been more similar, eerily so, and I kept reminiscing about the events from one year ago. Beautiful sunshine, obvious spring growth and grass that had just stretched into its full greenness. Spring has its own smell-remarkable and refreshing-and I attempted to inhale it into my spirit at every occasion. I couldn't shake the memories from last year however, I almost didn't want to, but couldn't let it damper my day. This was Mother's Day- my first!

Here I was, one year after the greatest devastation in my life, looking down at my beautiful boy playing in the grass and thanking God for the events that came my way. Who in their life has been moved so dramatically by God, however painful? Cool things happen all the time, but to be so beautifully carved, broken and then piece by piece slowly mended is a wonder to me. As much as I hated the pain and doubt and all things 'yuck' associated with disappointment, I loved how extraordinarily attended-to I felt. I long to see that same thing in my days of ordinary, and think I can if I just look closer.

After a day of family activity on Sunday, Lee grabbed my hand, wrapped Jeremiah in a blanket, and walked us out to the hillside where one year ago we had mourned. We stood there, a family formed in the coolest of ways, and prayed. Last year, crumpled to the ground after getting the phone call that the birth mom decided to keep the baby, I screamed at God saying, "I trusted you!!!" But then this year as I held my son close to me in the afternoon sunshine I got a chance to repeat those words, uttered differently this time. I will never get over it- I will never get over what God has done for us.

I planted tulips a few years back in the flowerbed we created alongside our garage wall. The backyard spans the area between the house and the garage and the previous owners were smart enough the build a bay window in the kitchen that overlooks the yard. Every morning I grab my coffee and assess the growth of my plants from that window. The tulips have tripled now- an unexpected surprise! What began as 5 white tulips have become 15 and signify more than just successful gardening to me. I planted them the fall we began our infertility treatments. Each bulb placed in the flowerbed had become a prayer- for freedom from the ache of the last several years of infertility, for understanding why I was unable to be whole, without constant pain... and as I dug down into the dark soil I began preparing my heart for change. A memorial, of sorts, was created and at the risk over over signifying and over spiritualizing things I cannot help but look at those flowers as a symbol of God's faithfulness! He took what I used for peace and closure and tripled it to blow me away. To me, it's just another sign of His desire to bless and a reminder of how He did.

I wonder if every Mother's Day week will evoke this much introspection; I kind of think so- for me at least.

2008-04-16T10:36:00.006-05:00

Jeremiah's half-birthday cake!!

This ball was the best $1.29 I've ever spent......

To Conceal a Matter

2008-03-27T08:41:00.008-05:00

"It is the glory of God to conceal a matter...."

I've been mulling this verse from Proverbs 25 over and over in my mind and just read a commentary by John MacArthur about it. The supremacy of the mind of God so incredibly supersedes our own capacity that concealing matters from us reveals the Glory of Him, His nature, His power. But I wonder if there might even be more to it than just limitations of wisdom. Could it also be that He delights in surprises? Anticipating the looks on our faces when the answer comes?

I do not possibly have the ability to keep something quiet without extreme discomfort. To hold my tongue against a barrage of questions seems like complete torture, especially when they are asked in earnest and sincerity. But if you've ever tried to keep something secret, a most special surprise, there is almost delight in keeping your mouth shut.

No, seriously....you're gonna want to wait for this one.... it's gonna be big.

Here I sit at my computer, coffee next to the keyboard, freshly made hummus and pita bread still on my breath wondering about the hidden things of God....and I love it. I love everything about this moment.

So there.

2008-03-03T21:30:00.009-06:00

I just got off the phone with a friend of mine who's husband has just recently asked her for a divorce. I'm ill-equipped, but strangely entwined in her story as I feel like I'm the only person she's talking to about all the gory details. How in the world do I encourage someone to rip their heart away from the only man she's loved for the past 12 years? But God had some serious truth to tell her tonight and it was pretty wild to be a part of it. I think it's awesome, completely awesome, to watch the Divine use my clumsy mouth.

It's been a heavy week, and I'm only just beginning to feel like I might very well have a huge target on my back. There's undoubtedly some strange spiritual stuff going on around Duluth right now, and I even hesitate to write that because there's still a part of me that screams, "But I'm Baptist!! We don't talk about spiritual warfare, nonetheless wage against it!" Seriously, I never gave much thought into anything of that nature until I started hearing my name being called in my house at night. Really, I know how it sounds, but it is true. Freaky, but true. So anyways, I was washing my face in the tub last night (I would normally wash it in the sink, but we're having some clog issues that refuse to get flushed and I just don't have the patience to let the water trickle down the drain) and as I bent over to gather water from the faucet I felt like there was someone behind me. Not only was it behind me, but I felt like it was about to grab me by the hair and slam my head into the side of the tub. A little unnerving perhaps? Absolutely- and completely absurd, but I couldn't help but feel like they were back. I had prayed with a friend at church that morning, sharing some of the events and crap from the previous week, when she shared that all across our church people are experiencing similar things. Because of that conversation, my bathroom rendezvous with the dark side seemed a little less intimidating.
"I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand I will not be shaken!"
"Greater is He that is in me, than he that is in the world."
"I'm a child of God, covered by the blood of Jesus Christ- you have no power here, now be gone."

"You leave my son alone......."

That last one surprised me as it came out of my lips. It wasn't my first mother bear experience, as just a few weeks prior I about tackled some poor middle aged lady as she got a little too close to Jeremiah's car seat while we were grocery shopping. I really was about to take her down......it was pretty comical as I attempted to compose myself in the coffee and tea aisle all the while in my brain seeing the possible events unfold......beans spilling onto the floor, tea boxes in the air.

The sensation that someone was in my house disappeared as suddenly as I felt it come on, and I simply finished up in the bathroom and went to bed. There was no room for fear and I actually felt incredibly empowered as I made my way across the hall to my bedroom. A strange story, no doubt, but what this boils down to is this- boldness has come with motherhood that I didn't expect, and all this time that I've been trying to authenticate my role as a mother showed me that when it comes down to it, my God-given mother bear instincts have kicked in. I've been validated. I've listened long enough to lies telling me I'm not a real mom, that I won't be enough for Jeremiah, that other moms see me as unequal, etc. It's time for the lies to stop affecting me- God has made that clear. I've got better things to do with my time and a little boy that is craving my attention; a husband that adores me and needs my liberated heart; friends that need an extra boost of encouragement and a good dose of truth. I cannot do and be any of these things if I listen to the lies that have been tailored just to harm me. They hold no power and I refuse to listen anymore. So there.

Maybe I should've just gone to bed....

2008-02-08T22:45:00.000-06:00

It seems the most inspired time for me to write is either in the early morning or at night when the house is quiet. Jeremiah's been asleep for a few hours already and I'm slowly learning to appreciate these hours of solitude, but still not sure if it's better for me to just go to bed. It has been a pretty introspective day and I'm both exhausted and inspired by it. I was talking with a friend today about the concept of what is 'enough'. As I mentioned in an earlier entry, I experienced a number of nightmares about feeling authentic in my new role, and I've been surprised by my sensitivity to new situations. Before Jeremiah came I would wince when people talked about how fertile they were (that still kinda hurts), how they weren't even trying to get pregnant, etc. But now, when all I want to do is prevent anything from diminishing how I'm feeling as a new mom, I find myself hearing words and phrases that stinkin' hurt! If anyone else asks me about Jeremiah's 'mom' in reference to the birth mother, I don't know what I'll do. I usually smile and continue in the conversation, as though I didn't skip a beat, all the while wanting to scream at them and say, "I'M his mom, you jerk!"

I was sitting in a group of young moms the other day, not actively engaged in the conversation, but included by default because I was in the room. The moms were talking about who their children resembled the most, them or their husbands, when one of the moms said, "Isn't is great when your child looks like YOU?" Of course she had no idea that I was wincing inside, nor was her comment even directed at me, but it still hurt like hades. I KNEW these conversations would happen someday, but I still felt completely unprepared for how to handle my emotions in response. I don't know how to stop looking at my friend's beautiful pregnant belly and not ache that I didn't get to carry Jeremiah that way. I do not dwell on it, (for what good would that do?) but I do still tend to grieve it now and again. So I choose not to start preparing my heart for the what-ifs down the road. I could.......oh, I could.....the idea of Jeremiah needing more of a mother than what he will get from me is terrifying. What if he wants to track down his birth mother someday because he feels something is missing, that I wasn't enough? I know that it might be a reality, and that I have years before it could potentially happen, and yes, that God will provide the ability to not only endure it, but support Jeremiah in that pursuit. But I can tell you right now that I do not like it, and never will. So there is a prime example of why I do not allow myself to go down the what-if road. Our life has finally seemed to settle down from all the events of last year, so why do I feel the need to stir up more stuff?

I hate to admit it, but I think I thrive in drama, as draining as it can be. But you know what's really cool? The phrase "in the meantime" no longer exists in this household. I spent years of my life "in the meantime" waiting for my purpose to begin. Not that having Jeremiah defines me, but God's given me purpose with one of the most important roles in this sweet boy's life. I knew I was made for more than what I was doing, but the wait was driving me insane. Hindsight, incredibly irritating in it's deferred arrival, changes everything. My wait is not just my story, but Jeremiah's. God still wants this story told and I'm just trying to figure out how He wants me to tell it. So in the meantime (haha), I just get to enjoy every single second of this incredible baby boy.

Jeremiah giggled for the first time a few weeks ago, and both Lee and I were there to hear it. Neither of us wants to miss a single thing when Jeremiah is changing so much. I've been singing a few silly songs we've created, and wonder as I sing them if they'll be ones he'll think back on someday.

I just love him, just absolutely love him. I hope that's enough.

Undeniably Mommy....

2007-12-31T14:47:00.000-06:00

I don't know exactly when the switch flipped, but the nightmares have stopped. For weeks after Jeremiah's arrival I had recurring dreams involving Marisol (the birth mother) and a perpetual feeling of invalidation. They wouldn't be exactly the same dream, but more of a recurring theme where Jeremiah was crying and suddenly Marisol would walk in, pick him up and he would instantly calm. I would look at the way they were interacting and feel incredibly resigned, thinking, "Well, of course he'd respond to her like that........" I would wake up ready to sob, struggling to identify myself as Jeremiah's mother.......no, Jeremiah's REAL mother. Years upon years of keeping my dream of motherhood at bay resulted in weeks of this battle in my heart. My old tendencies wanted to remain guarded, ready for heartbreak, but life was not slipping away from me. Jeremiah was (and is, obviously) HERE and the only mother he knows, and will ever know, is ME. You'd think I'd just be ready to throw away how I used to live and think but it wasn't quite that easy. I basically had to give myself permission to love uninhibitedly, vulnerable and raw.

Sometimes I would wonder as I held him if he would be the same if Marisol had kept him. Would he cry the same way? Would his voice sound different? Would he smile as much? I honestly don't know why these things would ever enter my mind.......but they did, and as much as it hurt to even think them I couldn't deny my curiosity.

All of that has ended, thank God, and there is no denying who's Mommy around here. The other day as I was getting Jeremiah dressed in his pajamas he started kicking his legs, cooing so loudly that I started to giggle. He caught my eye and smiled so big, and got even more excited as he talked. There was so much undeniable joy in his face when he looked at me that I started to weep.......... "Ohhhhhh.......THIS!" I thought to myself, "THIS is what I've waited for.."

Like I said before, I don't know when the switch flipped but I'm just grateful it did. I'm still in as great a journey to trust as ever before. Trying to stay at home as much as possible and still pay for all our expenses is proving to be an extremely difficult task. I don't know why I thought we'd get a respite after Jeremiah arrived and maybe what this is revealing about me is that my mind will always be festering about something. How annoying.

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-26T08:30:00.001-06:00

4 weeks already

2007-11-14T10:31:00.000-06:00

I think I've just entered into that time in life where you don't want to ever blink. Time moves too fast. Jeremiah is a month old!

I must have exceeded the word limit on my last entry (I had written all about the time at the hospital and it got bumped off the site....grrrrr!), so I've been wondering how best to fill in the gaps but not bore with details.

The last thing I want to do is lose the awe of what has happened, to callous myself to the story because of the monotony of life. But life has a way of just sucking out the extraordinary.......if you let it. These last few weeks have been surreal, but challenging as emotions surfaced I wasn't prepared for.

Because we had to wait for such a long time I placed such anticipation on the fulfillment I would receive. True, the desire is fulfilled, but I also believed that my seven years of waiting stored up all the caretaking energy I would need. Not so much. I told myself that I would never complain; it didn't matter how tired I was or how many times during the night I woke up, I would love every single second of it. Did I somehow believe that I would no longer be human once becoming a mother? That whole never-complaining thing lasted for all of 4 days! I am loving every second of it, but I am being challenged every second of it as well.

We are now out of the 'legal risk' period. Marisol's parental rights were legally terminated over a week ago, and now the birth father registry has to be checked to see if Jeremiah's birth father has listed himself on it. It would mean that we would have to go through the process of terminating those rights as well. If he is not listed, then we are completely in the clear and can start the finalization process, which typically takes about 3 months in the state of Minnesota. These are just formalities for us because we have absolutely no worries about any hurdles from this point on. God's made sure to communicate that to us.

A few weeks back I attended a prayer service at church where our pastor read the passage of scripture we would be praying through. It was Ephesians 3:14-21, which has special significance to me. It is Paul's prayer for the church in Ephesus, but became my prayer as Lee and I struggled in ministry and started our infertility voyage all those years ago.

"When I think of the wisdom and scope of God's plan I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he would give you mighty inner strength through his holy spirit. And I pray that Christ will be more and more at home in your hearts as you trust in him. May your roots go down deep into the soil of God's marvelous love. And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high and how deep his love really is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is so great you will never fully understand it. Then you will be filled with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.

Now Glory be to God! By his mighty power at work within us, he is able to accomplish infinitely more than we would ever dare to ask or hope. May he be given glory in the church and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever through endless ages. Amen." (NLT)

As I sat in church reading and praying God said, "See, Tiffany? Don't you see now what I was doing?" The message could have been, "You ungrateful child, are you happy now?"

But there was grace where there could have been judgment.

Out of God's love for me, for Lee, and especially for Jeremiah we have become this ever-anticipated family. I wish I had waited better. All those years of praying and weeping and questioning why God would allow us to suffer through such tender disappointment resulted in an incredible outpouring that was infinitely more than we ever could have hoped. Can I ever again doubt God's love for me? I keep remembering a comment my mom made to me several times over the last few years when I would watch God bless other people while I suffered. "Tiffany, do you think God loves you any less than He loves them?"

That's true for all of us, regardless of the struggle.

"'For I know the plans I have for you', declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a future and a hope.'" Jeremiah 29:11

The whole story.

2007-10-20T21:00:00.000-05:00

I've wondered a million times about the best way to tell this story, but I think what's best is to just start and hope that the pieces fall into place along the way. I'm going to back up to about mid-July, when we were in process of waiting on a birth mother from California to decide if she indeed wanted us to adopt her baby. While that opportunity was still lingering we received a phone call from my mom one evening after she had returned home from work, and I could tell by the apprehension in her voice that she had some trepidation about what she was going to say. She had heard about another young girl who was pregnant and didn't plan to keep the baby. Would this be something we would at all be interested in pursuing? My response was not positive. It was more like, "Are you kidding me? I'm sick and tired of hearing about these girls, when none of them are actually serious about going through with it." I did not want to tell Lee. I remember looking over at him after I hung up with my mom, feeling this weight in my stomach thinking, 'Can I put him through this conversation again? How much can we take?'

"What now?" Lee asked me. ( I think he already knew what was up by the look on my face).

"You don't want to know," I replied.

"Well?"

So I began to tell him what my mom had told me. By the end of the story both of us were stinking MAD. We were trying not to lump every birth mother into a heaping pile of indecision, unstability, and mistrust but disappointment after disappointment can give every girl the same face, the same story, the same heart and we were done.

Our conversation was filled with comments like, "Something just doesn't seem right about this one," and, "Of all the options this one seems the LEAST likely to happen", and, "What's this girl's angle? What does she want?" We ranted, we did a little yelling, but as loud as we voiced our skepticism I could not shake this voice that said, "But what IF? What if this IS the one that works?"

"Quiet!" I remember thinking, "I don't want to wonder!" But it wouldn't go away, and quietly I whispered the 'what if' to Lee. I'd like to say that we came to a wonderful conclusion to trust God and venture once again into the uncertain realm of birth mother conversations, but we blew it off. Not completely, but we didn't entirely embrace the possibility either. We just didn't think about it. For weeks. We thought so little of it that I enrolled for classes through December and scheduled a roofing company to come replace our roof (turns out we had hail damage and only had to pay the deductible -praise God!). So when we got the call that the California situation was closed for us we threw this one out the window as well.

I had just finished the last day of my first week of classes, went out to the truck to head for home and noticed that my mom had tried to call my cell phone like 500 times. When I called her back she sounded a little excited. "I just met Marisol," she told me.

"What?"

"Yeah, Cristina brought her into the clinic today and they're wondering whether or not we're going to do this adoption!"

"Wait.....what?!?"

"Marisol would like to meet you. I did pull up your blog site so she could at least see your picture, but how soon do you think you could come down to the cities to meet?"

"What?!?" ( I know, a bit redundant, but I was a little shocked. After all, hadn't this one seemed the LEAST likely to happen?)

After I stammered out a few unintelligible things we decided to try to meet on Monday, Labor Day. I didn't have classes, and most people (minus Lee) wouldn't be working. My mom confirmed with Cristina that it would indeed work for them and there we were, set to meet.

I drove down to the cities on Monday morning, but before I left had that great conversation with God (check my early September entry for details), and spent the afternoon at my parents' house making flash cards for my nursing class trying not to let the anxiety take over me. I remember standing at the kitchen window, the same one my mom has stood at for countless years waiting for countless people to arrive, watching as Marisol came walking up to the door. She didn't look obviously pregnant, and I had to fight the urge to doubt her situation. She was very sweet, but very timid and all the while I kept thinking, "One wrong move, Tiffany, and you'll have her running out to the car!"

While Cristina assisted my mom in the kitchen Marisol and I found ourselves sitting together in the living room. Me, with my extremely limited Spanish, and Marisol with her limited English managed to actually have a conversation. My sweet Dad caught a picture of us, and it turns out to be the only picture of Marisol we have, so I have to treasure that picture forever even if I do look like a horse in it.

At dinner she sat next to me and I kept shooting glances at her belly, wondering about the baby boy that was there. After dinner she excused herself and Cristina got a chance to fill me in on how they met. I'm sharing it, because I feel like I need to, like God wants it to be told. I do not however want it to communicate negatively in any way about Marisol. Here's my paraphrase of Cristina's story that she told to me that night:

I was working at Hennipen County Medical Center one day and was reaching the end of my shift. I had 15 minutes left before I was supposed to clock out. Now my job only pays in 4 or 8-hour increments, no partial hours or anything. So when a staff member came into the room asking for an interpretor I almost didn't take it, knowing I only had a few minutes left of my shift, but no one else offered, so I did. I didn't realize why I was supposed to be there until I started interpreting for this young girl. She was there to get a referral for an abortion. As the nurse took all her measurements I knew I was supposed to intervene. After the information was collected about how far along Marisol was in her pregnancy the nurse told her that she had one day left before it would no longer be legal to have an abortion in the state of Minnesota. After talking with Marisol the nurse left to go call the abortion clinic across the street to make an appointment for the following morning. I could not stay silent. 'Don't do it, Marisol. Don't kill your baby. God will bless you if you spare the life of your child. You cannot do this- I'll help you. There are lots of people who would love to adopt your baby- don't go through with this abortion.'

I convinced Marisol to come home with me, that we would talk it out and come up with a plan. She agreed to talk with me more about it. I realized that I could have lost my job for intervening like I did, but I knew that Jesus would protect me for doing His will. I told Marisol to meet me outside the front doors because I had to go into the employee area to clock out and get my purse. So I went and did that, grabbed my stuff and went outside, but Marisol was nowhere to be found. She was gone, like gone forever. At that moment everything completely drained out of me and I wept and said, 'God, I did my best to save that baby,' and I prayed for the impossible to happen. I grabbed my car keys and headed to where my car was parked. I was just about to get in when something caught my eye. It was Marisol and she was running.......running back to the front doors where we were supposed to meet! To this day I do not know what made her come back, but she got in the car with me, came to my house and made ME dinner. We talked for hours and I agreed to help her find a family for her baby.

A few days later I went to my chiropractor's appointment and there I overheard Jane talking about your situation to somebody else. Goosebumps went over my entire body and I went up and talked with your mom, saying 'You wouldn't believe this! I just agreed to help this young girl find a family to adopt her baby.........and here we are!

Our boy is HOME!!!

2007-10-15T16:43:00.000-05:00

Wow!!! I cannot even begin to explain the utter amazement at what God has done. I'll go into more details later, but wanted to post pictures as soon as we got home.

Jeremiah Nathan Gear was born at 9:52am on Sunday, October 14 (7lbs 19.8" long). He is absolutely beautiful. The most amazing thing is this: I do not remember a beginning of him......it feels like he's always been with me.

Look!!! Look at what God has done!!!

We received a card this afternoon that says this:

JUST THINK

Your SON is here not by chance, but by God's choosing.

His hand formed him and made him the person he is.

God compares him to no one else- he is one of a kind.

Your son will lack nothing that God's grace can't give him.

God had allowed your son to be here at this time in history to fulfill

His special purpose for this generation.-Roy Lessin-

"Everyone shall stand in awe and confess the greatness of the miracles of God...they will realize what amazing things He does." Psalm 64:9

A new due date.

2007-10-09T19:25:00.000-05:00

It appears that after meeting with a doula, Marisol's due date is more like the 14th than the 10th. Like a friend of mine said, "You can't change those things NOW!!!" But so it seems that our anxious, 'nothing-will-cure-this-itch-except-going-to-the-hospital' time continues. Fortunately I've had plans for this week that I've been able to continue in, but poor Lee has had nothing to do to pass the time except play Halo, which I am very quickly becoming tired of. There's this beeping sound as the character's energy field is recharging that I could go without hearing for the rest of my life. (Trust me, I already know that I know too much about the game).

But like I said, poor Lee has had nothing to occupy himself with. It's been rainy for weeks now, and the short glimpses of clear skies are spent walking the dogs who, I swear, sense the anticipation in the air. I've never seen them so pent-up, so needy! Walking them is good exercise and a great excuse to get out of the house, but even that doesn't come close to scratching the itch.

We packed a few travel bags and have them sitting on the bedroom floor. I can't take them to the car just yet because I'm partially living out of them, and what else would I have left to do? At least I can pack and repack a bazillion times if I need to find something to do, but once they're in the truck? Well shoot, you can't undo that.

In this wait for the inevitable rush of panic (Lee says, "No panic, Tiffany...." But I say, "Who are we kidding?"), we find ourselves saying to each other, "What should we do with these last few days of 'just us'?" It's hard to believe that from here on out it will never be just the two of us and to be honest, it's bittersweet. We haven't yet tasted the joy of parenthood and family that we've been longing for, but we're not quite ready to change what we've been. I think who we are is worth hanging onto during our venture into parenthood, and I think we're just stubborn enough to see it through. We continue to be challenged with enjoying these last days together all the while thinking, 'For crying out loud, phone. Ring already!'

Entrusted

2007-10-03T10:35:00.000-05:00

October 03, 2007
From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.
Luke 12:48

I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this verse today. As I belted in the base to the car seat I thought about how odd it felt to climb on up on that awkward thing while I tried my hardest to tighten the strap. It reminded me of how many times I had watched my siblings and friends do exactly that while I thought, "Is it really necessary to climb in there? Come on...." Go ahead, laugh....I admit I'm a total novice. Apparently watching people does not automatically make you a professional when it comes your time to do it.

But what struck me about the experience was a note I found in the depths of my truck. I had written it at work because on the back of the paper is the cash register report for closing the shop. It obviously was sometime in the spring, before May:

'Yesterday was a dust day. As a Christian I place so many expectations of perfection on myself, forgetting time and time again that anything good I do is only because Christ resides in me. He remembers that we are but dust.....

Sometimes He gives us days like yesterday to remind us of just that. There was actually nothing about yesterday that should have aroused such deep emotion in me, but whoa, I was a mess. At work I distracted my mind with lattes and sudoku, but I had woken up in such a funk that nothing could really keep my feelings of impending doom at bay. I honestly believed we were going to get a phone call saying this whole thing had been called off. Last night we went to dinner at our friends' house and I got a chance to hold a 5 week old baby. It was weird! I felt totally uncomfortable; partly because someone just walked up to me and asked if I wanted to hold him when I didn't even know who he belonged to, and partly because for some odd reason my mind has not been able to actually envision a child at the end of this process....'

And there the note ends. It looks like I may have written more but I haven't found the other half yet. I think the thing worth mentioning here is the state of mind I had then versus what I find myself in now. I don't have any feelings of impending doom. Anxiety? Heck, yes. Occasional panic? Sure, that too. Excitement? Absolutely, but impending doom? No. I keep trying to decipher if I'm feeling any of that, but it seems like the doubting voices have been silenced. I thought in church on Sunday about the possibility of this whole thing going sour as well. Before, thoughts like those would have immediately been followed with the, "Don't you dare, God"s and the "I don't know what I would do if this didn't work out"s. But on Sunday, when the thought crossed my mind, it lacked devastation. What in the world!?!

So how in the world does this relate to the passage in Luke? As emotionally complicated and mentally exhausting as this whole process has been, I feel like it is also something with which God has entrusted us. Like the memorable dialogue in the movie, Evan Almighty, if we ask God for patience does He just give us patience, or does He provide an opportunity for us to be patient? If we ask God for courage does He just give us courage, or does He provide an opportunity for us to be courageous? So each experience, each struggle has been entrusted to us, but the purpose of them is not in just reaching the end. It's preparation for more.

Start Packing.

2007-10-01T10:14:00.001-05:00

Wow...October is here already. Only 9 days until the baby's due date! I was thinking this morning that I should probably pack a few bags, especially the baby's things, in case we don't have to wait until the 10th. We've had everything just stacked in the nursery closet for months and should probably start preparing ourselves.

I got a phone call from the agency this morning. They did receive Marisol's paperwork and it sounds like they just need a few more pieces of information from her. They would like to get together with her at least once before the birth to go over things, but with only a little over a week left I'm thinking they may only be able to see her once, if that.

The agency is sending us our forms to sign and then we will be sending them the retainer for services. I'm hoping that they won't need to spend $4500 over the next week! Whatever they don't spend will be returned to us, and that money will go right back to the bank, so I'm praying that the agency will work efficiently.

Progress!!!!

2007-09-26T20:47:00.000-05:00

I just got off the phone with Cristina and Marisol. The papers are getting faxed to the agency tonight!

Please be praying for Marisol. As the due date is getting closer, her anxiety is increasing about how she is going to make it, financially, after the delivery. She will not be able to work for about a week and will not be able to make rent for that month. Her monthly rent is $300 and if she indeed misses a week of work she will lose out on $180. Lee and I will be contributing as best we can, but with the adoption expenses looming, we are not able to do much. Please pray that God would provide for her!!! She is sweet, she is timid, but she is needy and I don't know how else in the world I can better show appreciation than to take care of her while she is pouring out generosity on us!

She says the baby is moving quite a bit and she's now getting so big that it's hard for her to walk around........you know it's gotta be close, now! Two weeks.......Dear Lord Jesus, give us all strength!!!

Timid Relief.

2007-09-26T07:27:00.000-05:00

Last night I went over to a friend's house and updated them about the latest goings-on. Mary told me something that was just recently told to her and I will use it probably forever. She said, "Don't think beyond what you know." Exactly what I've been doing the past few days......

After I got home last night I checked my email and read that Marisol has an appointment tonight with Cristina (a catalyst in this process like you wouldn't believe) to fill out paperwork. Thank you, LORD!! I was so ready to disassemble every hope, every plan for how things were going to work out this fall, even the nursery, but I guess I'm supposed to hang in there and continue to trust. Can you imagine our relief when this whole process finally ends?!?

The due date is two weeks from today, but I have a feeling that the next two weeks are going to be quite dramatic, to say the least.

Pray for motivation...

2007-09-24T18:46:00.000-05:00

We received an email last night saying Marisol has been difficult to get a hold of, and with just basically two weeks until the baby's due date, time is running out. There is no time for delay, for lack of motivation, or disinterest in the legal preparation process, but I fear that all those things are happening. All it took was one comment about it being hard to get a hold of Marisol and I'm back to thinking, "Well, I guess that's over." How timid my faith!

I was putting laundry away a few minutes ago and walked into the freshly repainted nursery and prayed, "God, we're trusting you. Please....not again." How meager my ability to endure! You'd think at this point in the process we would be able to handle the bumps in the road, the complications as hurdles easily crossed, but I tell you I'm fighting my fatalist tendencies. This is where my faith counts and we are praying that God would once again hit us up. Can I claim resolution, victory, relief? Can I be that bold? The doubts I had abolished seem to be sneaking up on me again and I want so much for my faith to outweigh the ugliness, so we will choose to trust when I want to revert to protecting my heart.

In the meantime, PLEASE pray that Marisol will get a kick in the pants to get her paperwork done, that she will be motivated to get all this over with so she can once again focus on where her life is leading. Pray for the agency- that they will be able to expedite the process as much as possible, that there would be no paperwork delays. I will continue to post updates along the way. We appreciate (SO MUCH!) all your support and prayers as we anxiously await our baby boy!

Less than 3 weeks and counting....

2007-09-18T17:21:00.000-05:00

I haven't even been able to process the normal goings-on of my hectic life, let alone the idea of parenthood (again) rising to the surface, but Lee looked at me tonight (our 8th wedding anniversary) and said, "So, are you ready to be a mom?"

Part of me is terrified, petrified even. So completely frozen in fear that once again I'm being set up for complete heartbreak. But I know God to be good, and Lee has been so great in setting my heart at ease. Lee, who still has not even met Marisol, has more faith in this process than I can muster.

I still have the carseat (almost brand new) that friends of ours lent to us in the spring. It was sitting by the front door for almost a week in May and when we got home from the cities I meant to return it. We had been home a few days when Bekah came over and as I reminded her that we needed to get it back to her, she looked at me and said, "Just keep it for a while....." Choking up, we both believed that God would put it to use.

Little did we both know that we would need it so soon! At least for a few weeks until we get our own. The paperwork has begun, so it's officially in process. I dare not even count days until the due date because I don't think I can quite handle the reality of it quite yet. The paperwork should be fairly straight-forward as many of the things were straightened out when I met with Marisol. There are no plans for on-going contact with her, and the plan for the delivery/hospital stay is all but worked out. Our little man will be born at Regions Hospital in St. Paul (where I was born)!

I will continue to keep everyone posted on the details as we progress. Thank you all for your continued prayers!!

Mercies are new every morning.

2007-09-08T12:12:00.000-05:00

Today I received a much needed random act of kindness from a lady on the street. The past few days have been slightly overwhelming with making a decision about using an attorney or continuing with the agency, organizing my school schedule and class requirements (I won't go into all of those details- but there has been a lot to handle this week), having our roof replaced, organizing our finances so we know how to proceed with the adoption, etc. So there has been a bit of stress this week for us. But I guess when it rains, it pours. Trying to maintain a good attitude when it seems like poo is falling from all around is extremely difficult to do, and to top it off we've been dealing with stress from other people.

Being the people-person that I am, it's incredibly difficult to be at odds with anyone (try having that attitude when working in customer service- it's hard) especially when it's about important stuff. Something that I said was completely misinterpreted and I feel like the worst was assumed about me. I know there are some that can just brush those things off, but this situation penetrated me and even after my attempts to clarify nothing seemed to put it right. Yesterday we decided to go to the dog park to have some fun after a really busy day and ended up encountering an extremely rude man that thought it appropriate to humiliate me in front of everyone else. I was done after that. I had reached max capacity in enduring criticism from other people and we ended up going home in a worse funk than when we started.

But there's nothing like a good long walk to relieve stress, so this morning as Lee and I headed off throughout the neighborhood that funk slowly started to diminish. God reminded me that mercies are new every morning- not just for me, but for those who have hurt me as well. So when that lady saw us walking toward her and asked if she could give our dogs a treat my spirit soared. A complete stranger, a woman whose name I didn't even catch, showed me beautiful uncomplicated mercy. I looked at Lee and said, "She just wiped the slate clean of the last few days for me." So thank you, dog-loving stranger-lady!

Her name is Marisol..

2007-09-04T21:09:00.000-05:00

I came home late last night from meeting Marisol, a woman whose story will make your jaw drop open. God is real- and boy, did I ever get the story I was asking for.

It looks like we will be bringing home a beautiful Latino baby boy in just a few short weeks! He's due October 10th.

Even as I write these words I cannot put the concept together in my head, it's too beyond what I'm capable of grasping right now. As I mumbled a few broken Spanish sentences and watched Marisol smile at my attempts I realized that I trusted her. How did that happen when all we could think about when we first heard of this possibility was how sketchy it sounded?

I'm about to bear the full honesty of my heart- and just know that God himself is working on it. When Lee and I considered our international options we specifically narrowed our options to countries with Caucasian children, thinking if we had a choice, why not choose something that wouldn't necessarily be so obvious? Did we really want to deal with people's questions, looks, etc. for the rest of our lives? Wasn't our family supposed to be our sacred thing that wasn't another walking public awareness announcement? But I tell you this, God speaks. There is a voice He has just for me, a way of saying my name like no other can, gentleness that's commanding. As I was preparing to leave for the meeting in the cities I spent a good chunk of time regurgitating all that we've been through these last months, thinking that if this situation were to actually happen there would be no hiding it, our adoption would be extremely evident. And it was like this:

"I want it to be obvious. I want this story known." Talk about immediate conviction, but the most tender of reprimands.

After everyone left last night my parents spent time helping me process through some of this before I hit the road to come home. In a stupor my gaze wandered to their fireplace, and I sat there completely shocked, not really focusing on anything. Do you remember Magic Eye pictures? You stare at this complete hodge-podge of colors, things begin to get hazy and a bit blurry and you begin to ask yourself, "What in the world am I looking for?!?" And suddenly out pops this dimensional picture of a bald eagle, full span of wings soaring over a mountain and you realize that only in this transfixed, semi-blurry state can you see clearly what was intended.

My eyes had fixed on what, I didn't know, until it came out just like those Magic Eye pictures......a rock with the words, Trust, engraved in it.

And I said, "Okay.........I will." So we turn the page.

Complicated.

2007-08-30T19:57:00.001-05:00

My life just got seriously complicated. On three separate occasions this week I basically cried myself to sleep while I was asking God, "THIS?!? THIS is what I'm supposed to be doing? All that we've gone through these past months has been for this right now?"

These first few days of school were more about convincing myself to stick it out rather than high tail it and run like my instincts said to do. But I endured, I did well, I actually absorbed information all the while trying NOT to compare myself with the sweet 18-year-olds who were eating up Cell Biology like it was the easiest thing in the world to do. I actually had one girl say to me today in lab, "Oh, yeah. I forgot how much older you are." Seriously....

But that's not the point. So as I was sitting through classes slowly feeling like my plans for this upcoming fall were starting to deflate I wondered if I was even tracking with what God was doing. Have I missed something here? Shouldn't I be more excited about what I'm doing? Not that I don't want to continue with the nursing track, I most definitely do, but I guess I've been waiting for some relieving sigh of clarity to come my way giving me confirmation that I've found my actual life calling. It has not given me the foreshadowing of purpose I expected. I think my expectations were slightly askew, however. Nursing is not my first "love-to-do", as my mom says, but I will love doing it. I can see that I will, but it does not replace my most sacred of desires and I think realizing that has given me some permission to process through the disappointment I legitimately feel about being back in school.

But again, not the point. What has suddenly made things so complicated, so welcomed, is news I received today that once again a birth mom has chosen us to adopt her baby! Isn't it like God to provide answers to even our most facetious questions? So my questions this week came a few days early.....

Even as excited as Lee and I are, we are all about business. I remember going to the hospital (with the first birth mom), holding that baby and feeling like my heart was tethered, restrained. Like I heard, "Tiffany, wait. Not yet." We were going to wait until that baby was home until we poured out our hearts.

This baby, a boy, is expected October 10th. I will be meeting the birth mom on Monday and will be able to actualize all of this then. So again, we tether ourselves until we can unleash on that little guy we just might bring home! Until then I feel stupid for once again stomping my feet, throwing my insolant tantrum, and questioning God's love for me. And ever so gently He reminds me once again that He is not done!

It takes a little time, sometimes....

2007-08-24T19:59:00.000-05:00

'...to turn the Titanic around'.

I admit I was a huge Amy Grant fan when I was a kid, even to the point of recording myself over the performance track of "Jehovah". I haven't listened to her lately, but her 90's hit, "Takes a little Time" has been applicable this week.

I registered for the first of my nursing classes on Tuesday in a room full of 18-year-olds. As I listened to the advisor talk about how important it is to 'schedule your time wisely' and to 'take advantage of all the social activities campus has to offer', I looked around the room to see if I could determine who was actually there to learn something this year. I don't know how I ever really absorbed college the first time around and I think I will be a much better student now that I'm older, considering I was the only one not looking around the room for someone to catch my eye.

Another opportunity for adoption closed on us this week, although it didn't come as a total surprise that the birth mom decided to keep the baby. I still don't understand why we are continually presented with leads only to have them fizzle- I don't get the point. So school is not only a welcome distraction, but it allows me to pursue my own sense of accomplishment and will eventually enable me to provide substantially towards our financial goals. Sounds totally adult, doesn't it? So why am I actually scared to death to go back to school?!?

I think I'm dealing with slow-motion whiplash, if there is such a thing. For this entire year(basically) we have been on the adoption track. Now I'm doing something completely different and it scares me a bit. Amongst other reasons, I'm scared that I'm not understanding God's will, that I'm pressing on totally oblivious to what I'm actually supposed to be doing. As I prepared myself for these classes and applied for student loans I kept praying that God would shut this door, but others shut instead.

So I feel like my heart is the Titanic, and I'm waiting for it to come around to where my life seems to be leading. We are continuing to explore adoption leads as they come in (one that we are considering getting involved with could happen very soon), so we appreciate your continued prayers!

2007-08-14T08:21:00.000-05:00

Something is bound to happen soon, I've got to believe that. I don't know what it is about mounting pressure that also brings with it a sense of pending relief. Foreshadowing perhaps? I was slowly sinking these last few weeks, like someone was grabbing onto my shoulders and dragging behind me. Every effort to move, to breathe was labored and I reached a critical point where I knew I was either going to break or the cloud was going to lift.

For a brief moment it was like the cloud parted and with it came a dose of renewed endurance. I saw the lie that I've been believing for years now. The deceiving message of infertility is that we are in a battle of wills between us and God. Like every pregnant woman or tiny baby was told to walk right in front of us at our most sensitive moments. That God is cruel at times, or impersonal. And we question why He's doing this to us.

I remember vividly some of those moments. Most of them came in May when we were down in the cities. At this time the birth mom had gone into bridge care, so while we waited for word from her we decided to walk around Stillwater. Antique shops should be a safe place to roam without reminders, right? But as I turned corner after corner and saw baby carriages, pictures, and baptism gowns I screamed (in my head), "I can't escape it!!" But the message came, "You are not meant to escape it, you are meant to endure it."

We decided to take some time and sit right at the edge of the water. Trying to compose myself, we watched this little girl skip around in her dress. Cute. Her parents were sitting a little ways down the walk from where we were and they called her over to them, and as she started heading their way she walked right behind me and said, "I'm coming, mommy!" Ugh! It was like the splintering had finally reached the edge of the plate- I crumbled. Couldn't God have made that girl run behind us without saying anything? But again the message was endure, endure, endure, endure.

The battle I'm in is not between me and God, the battle is for my heart, my reactions, my ability to be a true friend to others who are being blessed when I am not. And even right now as we wait for decisions to be made by other people that could make or break our chances for a family the battle is its fiercest. I am determined, however, to endure.

2007-07-30T18:10:00.000-05:00

Saturday was spent at a family get-together on Forest Lake. I think it was the first time in a while that the entire family was in the same place at the same time. What fun!! Jet skis, paddle boats, BBQ and chocolate cannot be topped as far as perfect combinations go. The day was full of memory-making, full of "isn't so-and-so such a better swimmer this year?", full of "Tiffany, watch this!" My heart was full and breaking at the same time- how can a fun day in the sun and water be so bittersweet? I LOVED being with my family. My neices and nephews who I absolutely adore just made me long for my children all the more and I kept thinking as I squeezed them a little harder, "If I love my siblings' kids this much- what will it be like with mine?" But that made me really sad and I am determined next year that there will be NO crying on the way home!

Please continue to pray for us! We are continuing to explore our options for adoption and are needing extra support as we try to remain steady and hopeful......

Like Abe

2007-07-19T16:34:00.000-05:00

Today I decide to take my lunch to a local beach in Two Harbors before I go to my chiropractor's appointment. It's an absolutely gorgeous day! The beach, tucked away from the main road into town, nestles into a bay that curves around rocky points that jut out into Lake Superior.
The water is warmer here and there are kayaks milling around not too far from shore. I notice on the far side of the beach little girls digging a deep trench, and for a minute it only looks like there is one girl, but then I see her when the other steps out of the way. She's almost entirely below the surface sand and like they found a treasure they can't wait to share, they run like mad across the beach to find their family. The wind is blowing, so much so that the one with long blond hair clings to her pink hat as she runs. I giggle as it reminds be of an old man that believes his toupee isn't noticeable until the wind picks up. But as I watch her little legs pump across the sand, holding on for dear life to that hat, my giggling stops and I just want to weep. And again I pray- pray that somehow soon all this will make sense to me and then I'm reminded of Abraham and Isaac.

Why would God ask Abraham to sacrifice his one and only rightful heir after all the promises He made regarding Abraham's descendants? Just to see if he would do it? We wondered during our first adoption attempt if God was perhaps just leading us through it just to see us active in our faith.
"That's dumb!", I remember thinking, "Doesn't God already know my heart and my willingness? Why actually make me go through the steps just to have it fall to pieces. That doesn't make any sense." Like Abraham though, God wanted us to act out our faith and so we did. But in Abe's situation God provided a ram stuck in the bushes at the most critical point in his journey. Lee and I were talking about this on Sunday saying, "We see no ram! Where is our ram?!?" I still don't know, and unlike Abe we have not been promised anything and I wonder if that made it easier for him to climb that hill with his son asking along the way where the animal for sacrifice was. But I resonate with Abraham's answer: "God himself will provide the lamb for the burnt offering, my son." And indeed, God himself will provide our ram as well.

I Would Die For That

2007-07-02T17:33:00.001-05:00

I think she nailed it for me at least.....

2007-07-02T16:58:00.000-05:00

I've come to love Facebook- the online social network where only my invited friends can see my info. I check my page every day to see who's written me a note, or sent me a message. I actually enjoy it more than talking on the phone- that may seem mildly antisocial, but because my phone calls usually last for quite some time, it's nice to be able to send a quick hello to someone without getting into the gorey details. Creating a profile of myself online was easy- if now I can only transfer that ease onto the adoption stuff.

We are starting to compile pictures to place in our profile for the agency and I'm realizing that I am going to have to get out the camera. I don't want to pose-that's stupid, but when you are trying to give someone a feel for who you are so they will give you their child, the pressure is slightly more intense to look like you might have it together. Right.

I'm working on my attitude regarding the "dear birthparent" letter. I haven't started writing it yet, and am actually dragging my feet a bit in getting myself to just sit down and do it. I realize that when I do write this letter, with all the specifications regarding what we are looking for in this adoption, that we might not find a match. We are actually relieved to a certain extent that our previous attempt didn't work- we would not have chosen the amount of contact and involvement that the birth mom wanted, but it was part of the deal. Not so, now.

In a sense God is giving us an opportunity to help create what our family will be rather than just be at the mercy of someone else. So we put out our "fleece" and wait to see what God will do.

2007-06-25T17:14:00.000-05:00

I've spent the last few weeks contemplating. That's about it.
No option, no avenue has sounded good, yet I have felt the need to pursue something. When God seems silent it's easy to put a plan into action. Do we wait for specific direction or have we not tasted enough door jam? Do we pursue something until it slams shut in our face again? And to be perfectly honest, I didn't really like the last door-slamming and don't really feel like trying it again.

But in our conversations about not letting these childless years go to waste my dilemma has been to be actively in pursuit of something but yet not allow it to consume my every waking moment. So how do you, exactly, cork a geyser? The desire does not change, it does not fade, it does not lessen, it does not get easier to be denied, it does not get replaced. Only God can maintain steadiness of heart, energy to endure, and provide ultimate satisfaction. So I am attempting to allow Him to do just that, even while I am still getting Enfamil coupons in the mail.

We are leaning once again towards domestic infant adoption, but are not completely sold on the idea of using the same agency. We may still, but I think we should also pursue agencies here in Duluth as well as Adoption Lawyers. It might be easier for us to have our advocates a little more accessible.

So I've decided that while we continue to pursue adoption, I will pour myself into my other loves. I'm excited about allowing myself to be free! I had a taste of it, briefly, and how sweet it was! To recapture what I experienced in January, for those few short weeks, will be a tremendous relief to my heart. I think I need that considering I've been trying to hold myself together for a while and the facade is now splintering all over the place.

Should've beens....

2007-06-06T10:17:00.000-05:00

Lee just celebrated his 30th birthday yesterday and I gave him quite a bit of grief for entering into the realm of thirty somethings much to his chagrin. I know I'm not that far behind, but still I do have the advantage and I will make use of it.

Yesterday was difficult for me. I didn't mention it to Lee as to avoid putting a damper on the day, but it was one of the several days I've had over the past weeks where thoughts are consumed with the should've beens. Yesterday was supposed to be the fulfillment of Lee's desire to have a child by the time he was thirty. It was one of those hopeful thoughts but not quite prayers that started in January with that famed and blasted call. We should've been celebrating as a new family.
We should've been packing a diaper bag, rather than our golf bags.
We should've been been at our baby shower on Saturday, rather than at the park in the cold.
We should've been learning how to treat an umbilical cord rather than mounting crown molding in the dining room.
We should've been up late at night changing diapers rather than watching movies.
We should've been....we should've been....we should've been......

I fight those thoughts constantly and I know not to give into them, but it doesn't take much and I'm absorbed in the life I expected we would be living now. I'm resisting the 'yuck' of what is familiar to me; avoiding the baby aisles in Target, fearing the phone call from the next person to announce their pregnancy, counting days in the hope that I might be pregnant, the discontent of knowing I'm not and may never be.....and on and on and on. THAT is familiar to me. What is not familiar is the 'now' where I have a choice to make: I can either slip back into the 'yuck', I can dwell on the should've beens, or I can advance.

All seem undesirable, actually, because advancing is completely unclear and I don't know how to be. Oh sure, I know all of the right Christian attributes to personify, but I don't want to just act it- I want to be it. So while I wait for something to happen that permits me to get some clarity, I will not give the stuff I'm still getting in the mail a second glance- I will just throw them away and hope when the time comes when I actually NEED coupons for baby formula they will come.

And without rushing the emotional process of disappointment, we have to decide soon which country to pursue, so please pray for us- specifically for direction!

Blip on the Radar....

2007-05-26T10:07:00.000-05:00

Right before I fell asleep the other night a thought came to me so very clearly that had I given it any time to fester I'm sure I would have been up all night. I almost brought it up to Lee, but I've learned that it's not always the nicest thing to do to engage someone in serious conversation just after they've fallen asleep. It was not a stream of consciousness thought- I don't even remember what was in my head before, and it both intrigued and bothered me.

"What is the use of prayer? If God is sovereign, like He claims to be, then why would praying about something influence what happens? Why bother? It's just a waste of time and energy..."

I do not believe these thoughts to be true, because God's word says otherwise, but God's sovereignty is a sensitive and thought-provoking issue for us right now. Talking with our pastor the other day, he mentioned how he's experienced times where God has led very specifically in a certain direction only to slam the door in his face and give him a bloody nose. Those times, he said, were usually when God was about to do something big. Could it be that we are about to witness God do something even bigger and cooler than this adoption story was supposed to be?

Dear friends are in the process of mobilizing a 'movement'. They've created a video they plan to post all over the internet, email to friends and family, attempting to raise funds and awareness of our story. Do I dare believe that what they are doing could actually work?

I met with some girlfriends for lunch yesterday and told them about my recent intrusive thoughts on prayer. They reminded me that prayer is many times about rallying the 'troops', gathering people together towards a common mission. Ellie mentioned that while visiting her parents' church last weekend (hours away from Duluth) people she barely knew approached her asking about us! I don't even know Ellie's family, yet they shared with their church what was happening with us and people began to pray! Could all of this be about God working in many, many lives- calling them to pray just so He could reveal himself to multitudes of people? I don't know- but the truth is people are praying....lots of people, and I feel so unworthy to even be a blip on anybody's radar.

Like we mentioned many times before- we will continue to trust, continue to believe that God is not done, continue to wait until God says otherwise.

I will post a link to the video friends have made once it is finalized!

2007-05-23T17:32:00.000-05:00

Sitting still is impossible for me to do. Countless times Lee has sighed and said, "where are you going now?" after I've been sitting next to him for about 2 minutes. I'm constantly moving and there's an insatiable need to get up, fidget with something, then attempt to sit back down again, only to repeat the process 2 minutes later. I don't understand it and I know it drives my poor husband crazy, but I can't turn it off. So right now, when it's raining and I have nothing I want to work on in the house, the fidgeting is intense.

Fortunately Lee is off at the store drooling over the latest paintball technology. Ever since he joined a group of guys for a night of paint balling on Monday that's all he's been thinking and talking about. I'm still waiting for my 'paintball' distraction, but until something else captures me, adoption is all I'm thinking about. I'm trying to move forward, to bring some sense of resolution to this whole ordeal but yet with no clear direction. So here I am, bored, mentally and emotionally exhausted, attempting to be quiet and wait for guidance.

We received the packet of information from the agency yesterday and when I read through it all I felt like doing was throwing it into the fire pit in the backyard and going inside for a nice purging vomit. How in the world am I going to trust another birth mother? If I was adverse to open adoptions before, how much more am I now? Yet our feelings when dealing with this process and the openness agreement we worked on was trying to get the birth mother to shed her distrust of people from her past and learn to trust us. Do I need a dose of my own medicine? Is it fair, in my attempts at self-preservation, to project distrust onto a totally new birth mother? No, but I think it will be extremely difficult not to. So when I consider my gut reaction to another attempt at domestic adoption I wonder if this is really the direction we want to go and for the life of me I cannot get the Ukraine out of my head. In my attempts yesterday to conquer the ambiguity of our position I researched international adoptions.

There are no referrals made with available children and adoptive parents because the match is made once the adoptive parents travel to Ukraine, meet with the National Adoption Center where they are given the child's photo, medical history, etc. and get directed to the orphanage where the child has been living. The adoptive parents then go to the orphanage to meet their child, complete the paperwork in the country and travel home with their new baby. This all happens over a few weeks, so there is a decent investment of time involved, but it allows adoptive parents to start bonding with the child before the adoption is completed. We would have to make some changes to our home study to become international, complete a dossier (which is a compilation of our home study plus some additional items), file an I-600A, or "Application for Advancing Processing of Orphan Petition" with the USCIS (formerly known as the BCIS, which was formerly known as the INS). Once the USCIS has approved the application they will send form 171H, “Notice of Favorable Determination Concerning Application for Advance Processing of an Orphan Petition.” We would have a copy of that sent to the consulate in Ukraine and then wait for approval from their National Adoption Center. With that approval would be a travel date set for us to go overseas.

Even as hopeful as this option sounds, it still feels like it will take forever. To be able to travel to an orphanage and sit with those babies, hold them, play with them and then choose one to take home seems heart wrenching, but possible! And right now, I need to entertain the possible. Yet the message remains to sit and wait and I'm getting absolutely restless because we all know how well I do with sitting still.

2007-05-21T14:23:00.000-05:00

This morning Lee and I decided to add ourselves to the pool of available adoptive parents at the agency we've been working with. We've invested so much already and it seems pointless to pull out completely. Let's just pray that our roof holds out for at least one more year because now we don't have the money to pay for a brand new one. We talked with the director of the agency and she is putting information in the mail to us about our options. There are many children in the state that are on a waiting list to find adoptive families, but most are older or part of sibling groups. We are going to keep ourselves open to that idea, just so we don't miss out on any possible matches for us, but still believe we are going to find the best fit with an infant adoption. So now the waiting game continues....

The possibility exists to go international, with some slight modifications to our home study, but the process could be much longer and much more expensive. So we will shelf that idea for now. We've taken time to sit still and grieve and I think we are both moving into the proactive stage- we need to start doing something. Now onto household projects that only require time and energy. We will continue to pray, continue to hope and believe that where we are is exactly where God wants us to be. He has been faithful, he will be again.

2007-05-18T16:56:00.002-05:00

I've had this stuck to our refrigerator for months, ever since we found out the gender of the baby. It didn't take too long to get addicted to magnetic poetry and now our fridge is covered with these snippets of randomness. I love it. This particular concoction of pieces I can't seem to rearrange and I've been dwelling on them for days. Are these words still true even though we have no daughter to teach them to? I know they are so I will not take pieces away from this phrase, I will not interrupt the promise my heart made when putting them together in my kitchen. I want them to come true. And even after incredible disappointment and devastation, hope remains. Sometimes I hate hope.

There's much about our situation that is so completely unresolved and Lee and I both are still walking around like we are waiting for the phone to ring, like there's still a chance that we might bring that baby home. Part of it has to do with the update we received a few days ago. Apparently the birth mom's step-mother would not allow her and the kids to stay at the house (big surprise there) so as of a few days ago she and the 2 kids were in a hotel. In a hotel!!

Is it right that I'm praying she can't handle it? I need some closure, but for now we continue with the unanswered, emotional purgatory.

2007-05-16T10:03:00.000-05:00

We've been home a few days now. I wanted to throw everything away when we walked in the door, but Lee was kind and gathered things up right away and put them in the closet of the baby's room. I still have this gift bag full of stuff the birth mom gave to us sitting by the side door, waiting to have something done with it. I almost threw it out yesterday, but we decided to bring it to Goodwill instead. I think if I throw it away I'd be succumbing to anger and I don't think either of us really want to go there for too long.

I woke up this morning with my brain still tracking with a dream I was having- the birth mom had decided to follow through with the adoption and we were all happy and smiling around the table. Seriously, I could do without that right now but there is no complete escape and apparently that is not what we are supposed to do- so I guess it's still just about enduring.

We watched a recording of one of our favorite shows last night. One of the characters desperately wants to have a baby but cannot and she was constantly running into pregnant women, couples who were adopting, etc. It was interesting watching this character become overwhelmed with not being able to escape from the one thing she desperately wanted, but it was even hard for us to watch her having a hard time. So we watched a lot of Ultimate Fighting- no chance of babies appearing on THAT show.

There is still no clear direction as to what to do now. I can only go back to work for 2 days a week so the shop can save money. We're trying to get another shop open this fall and cutting my hours was supposed to work out for everyone. I would be home more, able to spend much needed time bonding with the baby, and the shop would be able to put more money aside for start-up costs on the new location. Now Lee and I are just processing through what I should do- do I just work my 2 days a week or do I start looking for another job? But again, no clear direction so we are just going to hang out for a while until God gives us something.

The birth mom's social worker called us yesterday to check in. I was appreciative of her demeanor and the support she was offering to us. Our social worker just graduated so is out of the office this week- we haven't heard from her since late last week. If we continue on with this agency we will seek different representation. The birth mom's social worker filled us in on exactly what was happening with the baby. Birth mom's dad decided to look like the hero and offered her and the kids a place to stay (at his house with his wife and 11 year-old daughter) until he can find a house to rent for her. The social worker was pretty skeptical about how long that was going to last and did communicate to the birth mom that there was always an open door at the agency. She offered to keep us in the loop about how the birth mom was doing- but we told her we only wanted to hear anything if she had decided to follow through with the adoption. Aside from that, I'm having a hard time caring about anything she's doing. I'm not sure if feeling that right now falls under the "acceptable attitude" category, but it's where we are at.

We are trying to stay active, getting together with friends, working on projects in the lawn, and trying not to make too much sense of this 'stranded' feeling. We know God is not done, that His plan is still in motion so are just waiting it out like some drawn-out Chess move and trying REALLY hard not to say, "Just move the darn piece already."

Heading Home....

2007-05-14T08:50:00.000-05:00

We will be heading home to Duluth today. We debated between going on vacation somewhere or working on projects at the house and I don't think either of us are in a state of mind to truly enjoy a vacation. I think we need to do something productive- to build something when all we feel like is tearing things apart. Who knows? Maybe now we will finally build our deck.

Throughout this entire process, starting seven years ago, I feel like God has been working my heart over to truly desire Him alone- and be satisfied only with Him. That's why my theme song of late has been "Enough".

All of You is more than enough for
All of me for every thirst and every need
You satisfy me with Your love
And all I have in You Is more than enough

You are my supply My breath of life
Still more awesome than I know
You are my reward Worth living for Yeah
Still more awesome than I know

All of You is more than enough for
All of me for every thirst and every need
You satisfy me with Your love
And all I have in You Is more than enough

You're my sacrifice of greatest price
Still more awesome than I know
You're my coming King You're everything
Still more awesome than I know

All of You is more than enough for
All of me for every thirst and every need
You satisfy me with Your love
And all I have in You all of you
Is more than enough.

I still cannot make it through this song without crying- It's been my prayer for so long. So today when it popped into my head I got angry.
"Lord, right now?"
And it was like He said, "Well, am I?' (Bear with me- I'm going to repeat a conversation I had with God this morning..)
"I don't know how you can possibly expect me to answer that!"
"Tiffany, if it's not true now, then it never was...."
Ouch.

So what are my options? I can either still believe that God is good, and if so, then I HAVE to believe that He is NOT DONE. Or I can believe that God is cruel and that receiving that call on Mother's Day, of all days, was just one more way to stick it to me. I can go there, believe me it wouldn't take much, but then what will become of my faith? of my heart? of my hope? And as small as all of those things are for me right now, I have to cling to something. Some semblance of a future where God actually grants this desire I feel HE put in my heart.

What is faith? It is the confident assurance that what we hope for is going to happen. It is the evidence of things we cannot yet see. -Hebrews 11

For all those who have read previous entries- my floating faith walk continues! Please pray for us today as we go home. It will be very hard. The bassinet is still sitting beside my side of the bed, letters I was painting to hang in the nursery are still sitting on the kitchen table, the diaper bag-still in the backseat of the truck will need to find a storage place as well as the bottles and supplies I organized in the kitchen- Please pray that the nursery does not become a bitter shrine for us. Dear friends have offered to take care of things in the house for us before we get there- but I need to do it. I can easily allow some twisted time warp to happen in my head and pretend these last 3 months didn't happen- but I have to allow myself time to mourn when handling all the baby's things.

Lee told me last night that the first thing we are going to do is pray over that room. Pray boldly that God will fill it. Soon. We will believe that God is providing for us- even if right now it is just the strength I need for this very moment. Tomorrow will come and we will believe the same to be true then, and the next day, and the next day, and the next.

God Why?

2007-05-13T19:06:00.000-05:00

Please pray for us as we received news this afternoon that the birthmom has decided to keep the baby.

Lee and I both are -what do you possibly say?!?

We can either cling or despair and we want to cling.......but not doing so well today. We will be heading back home to Duluth pretty soon and will continue to post updates as we wait for God.

2007-05-10T21:42:00.000-05:00

I think I may have scared the social worker this morning when we talked because she was on the horn to me this evening with a very sympathetic attitude. Good. Time to work for us now.

So it appears that birth mom did indeed go into this bridge care with baby and her 2-year-old son. This bridge care is run by a couple who, from what it sounds like, have some sort of cottage-type thing that birth moms are able to stay in. It is not entirely kid-friendly so they had to do some arranging so that they could all be there. She will be able to get some help from the caregivers but will mostly be on her own- which I think is great because she needs to see if she is actually capable of handling two. She's been living with her grandmother for a while- but her grandma told her she was not allowed to bring the baby home to her house- she's too old and it's too much for her to handle. The birth mom thinks that this time in bridge care will help her distance herself from the pressure of her family and allow her time to really see what she is able to do. I'm so glad that she is trying to figure this out NOW when she's been singing a different tune for so many months. (Sorry- still a bit raw)

Tonight is her first night alone with the two children. Pray that she doesn't get any sleep! I checked and it's OK that we pray for her to have a miserable night....

From what our social worker said this evening, the birth mom is taking the weekend to be at bridge care and plans to have a decision on Monday. Pray that she doesn't wait that long! Pray that her cousin (who's not a good influence at all and can't even care for her dog) will shut her mouth of lies, that the birth mom will wake up tomorrow and realize that the decision made so long ago be confirmed.

We've been in and out of this emotional haze for the last 24 hours. I'm pretty sure I get a certain look on my face when I'm about to lose it, because Lee's been watching me pretty closely and numerous times he's interrupted me with words like, "Don't spiral on me, Tiff. Stick with me." And I want so much to hold fast, and God has held me close. Lee looked at me earlier and said, "I can feel people praying- I don't know how to explain it, but I can feel it." Pretty cool, and honestly I'm grasping on to that fiercely. So thank you, all who have been praying!

Snippets from songs have fluttered into my brain all day and I know those things are not coincidence. For example this Third Day song has been ringing through my head:

"It doesn't take much for my heart to break
and you have done it for what seems the millionth time.
Whenever I hear of your saving grace
and how you gave your life in exchange for mine.
Sometimes I wonder why you even love me?
And why you ever chose to call me child?
Then I remember, it's by your sacrifice
and I can say that I am yours and you are mine.
It doesn't take much for me to shed a tear,
and you have done so many things to make me cry.
Whenever I think of all that I've done wrong
and everything that you have done to make it right.
Sometimes I wonder why you even love me?
And why you ever chose to call me child?
Then I remember, it's by your sacrifice
and I can say that I am yours and you are mine.
I can say that I am yours and you are mine."

Remember the character of God, Tiffany. He doesn't dangle things in front of us just to rip them away. So I will cling to the character of God because clinging to people and their promises has not proven trustworthy. He is the only one that can make this possible, and I will choose to trust even thought right now it is one of the last things I feel like I can do. I don't understand the 'why' of this and I don't know why I feel like knowing that would even help me. If I knew that we were going through all of this just for the sake of someone else, say the birth mom, would I still be as receptive to what God was doing? Or would I not pay as much attention because it didn't have that much to do with me?

A cool thing happened tonight. It affected both my mom and myself the same way, so I think God was trying to encourage my heart. We went out to dinner tonight and spent some time at Fleet Farm (my mom likes their almonds better than anywhere else- I know, but you don't know what length she'll go to for a good almond) and I completely lost it in one of the aisles. Poor Lee, one minute he was talking about these knee-high Sorel boots and the next he's wiping me up off the floor. Shortly after we got back to my parents' house there was a knock on the door. The girls who were our very first foster children 16 years ago stopped by to say hello and give my mom some senior pictures. They were in our home for about a year and were adopted by my dad's co-worker. The story of how this couple adopted these children is a testimony of God's amazing and complete control- their family is a living breathing example of God providing a home to children who needed it, and children to a couple who wanted a family more than anything. God reminded me of His awesome tenderness, and I'm grateful that He laid it on these girls' hearts to come here tonight- the day we were supposed to be bringing our little girl home.

I am so sad, and so scared, but I know that God is good. I know that He loves us, that He is full of mercy and compassion. I know that He delights in us, that He will carry on to completion that which He started, that He has a plan to prosper us and not to harm us. These things I know and it's these things I will cling to.

On our knees.....

2007-05-10T12:08:00.000-05:00

The latest in our ever unfolding saga......

Yesterday I received a few messages on my voice mail- my cell phone died while we were in the hospital visiting birth mom and baby. Apparently the birth mom has been getting a pretty hefty guilt-trip from her loser dad and is suddenly now uncertain as to what she is supposed to do. She and the baby are being discharged as I am writing this and will be going straight into what is called "bridge care" or a crisis center so she can take some more time to process through the feelings she has regarding her family. My heart does go out to her, only by the GRACE OF GOD, because I would partly like to go strangle her, but I also cannot imagine the feelings she must have right now as she is worried that if she proceeds with the adoption plan she will lose the love of her father.

I had a pretty intense conversation with the adoption agency this morning and I feel pretty confident that they now know where we stand. We are not happy with them and the counseling they have provided the birth mom. We don't understand why all of this is being dealt with NOW, when we have had months of preparation for it. The birth mom knew how her dad felt about all of it, but still allowed him to come to the hospital and give her grief. PLEASE PRAY that his lies and deceptive "support" would be deaf in the birth mom's ears, that she would know that his influence is EMPTY and that he is not reliable. Pray that this time would truly be about determining what is best for that sweet baby girl and NOT what will most alleviate the birth mom's guilt. The time in the bridge care is totally up to what the birth mom needs, but has a cap of 30 days. 30 DAYS!!!! She is also trying to get her 2 year-old son to join her in this home and we are praying that she will be truly faced with caring for two children- that this home will not provide a lot of support for her so she will deal with the reality of the situation.

The agency has promised to keep us updated with her status. I let them have it a bit this morning and communicated to them our frustration with being completely powerless. We told them that we will be taking some time to determine exactly how much of this we are willing to continue with as we are not willing to be toyed with anymore. I don't want to add to the birth mom's pressure, but she literally has several lives hanging in limbo until she gets it together.

PLEASE continue to pray for STRENGTH in our faith. I've already deconstructed the baby's room in my head a hundred times, saying to myself, "what am I going to do with all that stuff? How am I going to walk back into that house with no baby, walk into that room and pack everything away?"and I know that is not from God. I know the truth, but my heart is fragile. Lee has been SO strong for me, and I cannot be more blessed with such an amazing man of God. He is steady when I am not and I am so grateful for him. Thank you all our dear friends and family who are battling with us in prayer. God is at work, He is faithful and He is completely sovereign over all of this. This is no surprise to Him and He will show up.

I will continue to post things as they progress so you can continue to pray specifically. Alright Lord, let's make this a story worth telling!

2007-05-09T18:37:00.000-05:00

Please, please please pray.....

Things are very uncertain and incredibly stressful right now. I don't completely know where things stand and we DESPERATELY need your prayers. That's all I can say right now before completely losing it....

2007-05-08T18:34:00.000-05:00

Proud Daddy!!

Sharing

the news....

Little Miss Eva.....

She's Here!!!!

2007-05-08T14:42:00.000-05:00

6lbs. 4oz. 19" long.........I know these specs but am dying to see my little girl! What will that moment be like when I finally lay eyes on her? I am waiting for Lee to come so we can head over to the hospital. I'm in a complete daze and am praying that God gives me the wisdom, the strength, and the freedom of joy over these next few hours. Pray for Stephanie as she spends time saying goodbye....

We will post pictures later today.....

2007-04-30T22:45:00.000-05:00

We have completed our end of the adoption paperwork! We are just waiting to get our copy of the home study, which should be any day now. I talked with the birthmom on Friday and she is at 2cm! So it could, quite literally, be any day now!

I have started packing the infamous bag and believe I have everything I need, for now. Thank goodness we will never be too far away from Target! Our mulitcultural training class went better than expected, so once more I got myself worked up over nothing. A sensitivity-training comment for all those who will get into conversations with people wanting a family: Please do not ever say, "why don't you just adopt?" There is nothing "just" about it. To be perfectly honest, this is not a fun process and I cannot wait until the beaurocracy is over and I get to be mom (I realized I was about to put "just" before the word mom...ha, I caught myself!).

I am so excited, though, despite my brutal honesty! We will post news once we get the call and then lots of pictures to follow!

Compassion.....

2007-04-23T19:53:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was Compassion Sunday at church. I was not prepared, to say the least, and spent most of the service with my head down; tears and mucus (ok, snot) running down my face. Of course we were sitting in the front row, so there was no discreet exit happening for me. Why didn't I grab a donut before the service? At least then I would have had a napkin or something... But God was at work in my heart. Big time.

As part of the focus for Compassion Sunday, a majority of the service was devoted to adoption. We had heard that another couple from church had an open adoption, but hadn't yet talked with them. They gave their testimony and as Dar was talking I sat stunned in my seat. Their story is almost identical to ours! But they had to do it all in 3 weeks! And as Dar was retelling the details of the time in the hospital, the goodbyes, and the actual placing of the child in their arms she made a comment about the birth mother that hit me hard. She said, .."how could we turn her away? She was giving us her newborn son!" I realized then that God was once again changing our view of this whole scenario. I had spent the past couple of weeks getting defensive, overprotective, and jealous of our birth mother! Apparantly I was missing the point here. God's plan goes way far beyond just giving me a child- he has something in mind for the birth mom too. But if I'm already closing myself off to her, then how will she be reached? So my challenge continues and we are anxious to talk more with Fred and Dar about their experience. How cool that we have people so close that have gone before us in this! God is good.

Not only did we walk alway incredibly challenged, but networked with two other couples from church that have either adopted, or are in the midst of adopting.

On Saturday we will be attending a parenting seminar down in the cities at the adoption agency. Because Eva is 25% Native American, the agency is requiring that we attend. It is titled, Multicultural Parenting in a Racist Society, and will be interesting. I'll leave it at that.

We are still waiting to hear whether or not the birth mom has accepted our openness agreement, so are anxious to get that finally sorted out. Other than that, we will get a copy of the home study and wait for the call to go to the hospital. And somehow in this whole grand scheme I'm supposed to be preparing myself for motherhood. The closest I've come is putting a few items into the diaper bag, slowly getting that packed so it's ready when we get the call. But I don't even know exactly what to put in there!

This whole process is incredible, surreal, and just downright weird.

My kind of Labor....

2007-04-19T09:16:00.000-05:00

I heard from the social worker today and ICWA does not apply to our situation! Praise the Lord! ICWA stands for Indian Child Welfare Act, and because the baby is 25% Ojibwe, there was a possibility that the Leech Lake Band could take jurisdiction over this adoption, could require things of us in raising this child, but that the baby could also receive benefits from them (which wouldn't have been all that bad..). I felt like if anyone else was going to try to step in and tell us how we were going to raise this child I would absolutely scream. But once again, God is gracious. I must cling to that.

I don't know how many times over the past week and a half I have said to Lee, "I don't ever want to do this again." But I wonder if it's one of those things you just say in the middle of stressful muck. Will I look at this baby girl and then feel like this has all been worth it? Probably, but right now I'm really tired of playing telephone with the social workers. We've been working it seems continuously on a mutually acceptable openness agreement, defining all of the contact that we will have with the birth mother. What's in the best interest of the child mingles with our best interests and sometimes it's hard to see clearly what we should do. Birth mom wants to make it a legally binding contract, and Lee and I are intentionally trying to work past the feelings of mistrust. If we say we are going to do something, then we are going to do it, but then I remember that birth mom doesn't really know us. Just because she chose us doesn't automatically instill her with deep abiding trust that we will see her when we say we will.

I feel like we have been through several weeks of labor, and I'm praying that these last few weeks before the baby is born will be uneventful for us. I just want to enjoy the anticipation of it, not be flooded with anxiety. I have been working more and more on the room- crib skirt, window treatments, and it is slowly beginning to look like someone might actually live in there soon! In just a few short weeks a child will actually be sleeping in the bassinet and I have not fully prepared myself for that. One of my dearest friends just had her baby on Tuesday and as proud papa was telling me all of the details I thought - we're going to be sharing details like that very soon! How strange that my brain has not yet absorbed everything yet, but I hear from many mothers that "it" will come. So as we wait for the true labor pains to begin we will try to focus on the joy that awaits us!

5 weeks and counting

2007-04-06T21:28:00.000-05:00

4/6/07: Today was spent getting dirty. Dirty like as in, 'I haven't seen this corner of the basement in six months let alone clean it.' We loaded up all the old carpet we ripped off the floor, as well as the rest of the remains from our home improvement projects over the past two years and headed for the dump. The gentlemen standing guard at the entrance proved to be very generous today and only charged us for half a load. I don't know why that was so cool to me, but right now any extra we can save the better.

We have two days until our social worker comes for the home visit and I have a running tally in my head of all of the things I want done before she gets here. And once again I have to remind myself that just because there is dirt on the wall from the dogs does not mean that our house will be labeled an unsafe environment. It's the little things under my control that are stressing me out. So we will run full speed ahead tomorrow to get the bathroom done, the edging paint work done, the visit to the grocery store, the library, Goodwill... Really, does any of that need to get done tomorrow? Not necessarily, but I will feel a whole heck of a lot better so we are going to do it.

This is a before shot of the baby's room. (This picture was taken when we went through the house before we bought it.) The previous owners had conveniently placed that nice big rug over the ugliest part of the floor, so when we went to strip the paint off the woodwork, it wasn't the biggest shock that some of the paint stripper got on the floor. So we ended up stripping that too.

4/9/07:

Our social worker left a few hours ago after a brief visit to the house. I think she was here maybe an hour... Once again I have been reminded of my tendency toward unnecessary anxiety. But what is necessary anxiety I ask myself?

I was completely stressed out last night and was frantically organizing our closet, to which Lee inquired, "Do you really think that's necessary?" I was in no mood to have my discretion questioned, so I responded, "Who knows where she's gonna look!!!" Darn it all if my clothes weren't going to fit inside those drawers..... So all of the outlet plugs, safety latches and scrubbing dark musty corners of the basement proved only to be physical stress relievers as the social worker didn't notice any of it. But hey, my house is clean.

It is now incredibly relieving to have one more hurdle jumped of this very interesting journey. And again I'm reminded that there is nothing about this that God did not forsee, that He did not know we were capable of enduring, if not attaining victoriously! So I will follow through with what I have learned: I will trust, I will wait patiently, I will continually give thanks because none of this would be if God had not entrusted us with this process and ultimately an amazing baby girl that I just can't wait to hold.

(Baby's room with floor and woodwork refinished)

We are now putting the finishing touches on the baby's room and will post those pics soon.......

Serenity Now!

2007-04-01T13:53:00.000-05:00

Today we are feeling a bit better than how things were going for us last week. The agency we are using is great, but sometimes it's best to eliminate the middle man from communicating between us and just talk to one another. We were a bit surprised with some of the ideas the birth mother had about how this whole openness thing was going to go, and had to take a few days to gather ourselves and attempt to think clearly. I remember a few hairy moments when thoughts like, "OK, God. I didn't agree to this whole thing expecting to have to share. This is not what I thought we had signed up for...." But then, this whole event has been completely His doing- so who am I to try to navigate the details, really?

So my biggest challenge? Receiving blessings, grabbing on to them with gratitude, but not clinging to them. What does that look like? Heck if I know right now, but I will try my best. And in the meantime we have to look deeper into this deal and pray, pray, pray for divine wisdom. Can anyone really decipher God's plan in the making? Sure, hindsight brings incredible perspective. But I don't have hindsight now and my only option is to pray, trust and step out. I remember in college coming across the verse in Joshua where God promises him that He will give Joshua every place where he will set his foot, and I picture this faith walk across a dark, bottomless chasm. As I walk suddenly these floating rocks just appear under my feet. (A few too many sci-fi movies, perhaps?) But even after one step appears I still find myself holding my breath until the next one, then the next one, and then finally one brings me to a steady place. Relief finally comes, but would I be prepared to turn around and walk it again? So another challenge is to learn, truly learn; not just 'whew! Made it through that one!', but really prepared to walk it again.

So as we process through how this open adoption is going to work out, we are attempting to look beyond this as just an answer to our prayers. Is God also planning to use this blessing as a way to reach out to the birth mom? What room in our hearts (beyond our obvious gratitude), can we make for her so that God can be revealed to her? So the dichotomy of my heart continues, but I know that obedience is my ultimate desire. We want to do what God has planned, knowing that if we prove trustworthy in this, He will be able to give more and more. And I remember another of my cries to God being, "Break off a slice for me!!!" So here I am, trying to digest this incredible portion. If only my eyes could me the size of my stomach.......

Enter Eva

2007-03-31T18:41:00.000-05:00

So here begins the life of our little blog.....six weeks and counting until we can hopefully post some pics, but until then just our thoughts as we await parenthood. Good luck sifting through the insanity.

We've entered into an open adoption after six years of infertility. For all those that don't know the story let me fill you in. We finished our last infertility treatment in December, and by last I mean, there is no way in heck we're ever doing that again. We were spent and we had given it all we had. So impressively cliche, I know. Truthfully, we only allowed ourselves to go so far with the doctors, treatments, monitors, test sticks and the whole glory of medically assisted conception. Turn down the lights and get some candles going after that whole deal. Let me tell you there is nothing more romantic then laying on an exam table staring up at a flourescent light display of some tropical island as the miracle of conception is attempted. Sarcastically Lee said, "Was it as good for you as it was for me?" Funny, Lee. And as the doctor left the room with a semi-patronizing comment, "Well, we'll see!" we wanted to scream. It came close to that when we got home, but a good cry seemed to do the trick. We knew at that moment that it was time to let go. What that looked like, heck if we knew, but we had to do it. So we went to Tahoe.

Nothing like a good trip down a mountain strapped to a snowboard to give you a sense of freedom. A few weeks after we returned from our trip my mom visited for a few days, most of which we spent dissecting the role of women in relation to husbands and families. I admit although I have been somewhat unaffected by the feminine diatribe, I honestly struggled a bit with what in the world I was meant to be. And in turn, because of my emotional straightjacket, I was subliminally communicating to Lee that my life as it was was not quite enough for me. Enter Cesar Milan. Yes, the Dog Whisperer.

We had been graciously given a free preview weekend of the National Geographic Channel by Dish Network. I know, they must really like us. So as we were watching Cesar perform his mind-boggling training he made a comment that pretty much struck me to the core. (Another intentionally utilized cliche.) His comment was that dogs live in the now. They do not walk around with the attitude of, 'yeah, I'm the dog that bit someone yesterday'. They constantly live in the 'now' reacting only to what's immediately in front of them. Apparantly I have not completely absorbed the scripture that talks about not worrying about tomorrow, when we only have today. I needed to learn it by watching some poor shih tzu who couldn't take a walk on leash.

And as the lesson of living in the now began to transform my perspective, Lee reminded me of a well known parable. If we started to look at the days we've been given as something we have been entrusted with, what are we doing with them? I had spent 75 months burrowing. And as I began was praying for purpose, outside of motherhood, we got THE phone call. As I mentioned my mom was visiting. She technically got the phone call, but what are technicalities, really? Anyway, we were in the kitchen talking about IKEA flooring when my mom turns to us and says, "That was Ally. Her neice just told the family that she is pregnant and plans to place the baby in an adoptive home. Would Lee and Tiffany be at all interested in this baby?" I cried, Lee poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down. We hugged, cried some more and now are six weeks away from bringing home our little girl! Wrap your brain around that if you can, because we are still six weeks into trying and still are pretty much trying to stay afloat.