Just Keep Swimming

Just Keep Swimming, swimming, swimming...
     This is the mantra that has been on my mind the past few weeks.  I love Dory from Finding Nemo.  For all her faults, she is fearless and persistent.  Surrounded by deep murky waters with unknown dangers, she doesn't give up.  Instead she hums a simple tune and keeps on swimming, trusting that everything will work out in the end.  And her courage and tenacity doesn't just help her own journey along, it also encourages Marlin to not give up hope.
     So often I find myself weary of waiting.  Waiting sucks!  There's really not a nicer way to describe it.  We would all like to have a smooth, easy journey to parenthood, but for most adoptive couples the journey is more like a swim upstream against the current.  There are disappointments, delays, and detours.  There are days when it seems like it will never happen.  There are days when hope is hard to find.  Those are the days we especially need to take a deep breath and keep on swimming.
     This is not a blind faith swim.  There are times when it is a good idea to change course.  Maybe it's time to revise your Dear Birthmother letter.  Maybe it's time to consider opening your profile more.  Maybe it's time to do some personal networking.  But maybe it's not.  Sometimes you've done everything you can do and it's just time to let go and trust. 
     Trust...persistance...patience...faith!  Those are words that are hard to put into action, but it can be done.  A few special adoptive moms on the IAC adoption forum are great at reminding me (and other waiting families)- It's not a matter of if we adopt; it's a matter of when we adopt!  The journey is hard, but it will all be worth it in the end.  We just have to keep on swimming.
     These days, I am trying to be more like Dory.  I'm trying to be fearless and persistent.  I'm trying to let go and trust.  I'm trying to keep things in perspective.  I'm trying to remember that when we do adopt, all the struggle will be oh so worth it!  And if I keep on swimming, maybe my courage will encourage someone to else to keep on swimming as well. 
    
    

Summer Fun!

     It's been a while since I posted a new blog, but our summer has been so full of travel and fun that I've hardly had a spare moment to write.  Jim and I have spent most of the last two weeks in a car.  First we drove to Arizona to pick up our niece Cali and nephew Javan.  We visited Monterey and Sequoia National Park on our way home to Susanville.  In Susanville, we spent time with friends, visted Lassen Volcanic Park and had crazy fun with puppets at VBS.  Then we hopped back in the car to drive back to Arizona to deliver the kids safely back to Grandma and Grandpa. 
     The trip was absolutely awesome!  We were all exhausted by the end, but everyone had so much fun.  We did learn a few things during this trip...namely that kids can have fun ANYWHERE!  We wanted to take them to iconic California spots...the ocean, Sequoia, Monterey Aquarium.  They had fun climbing rocks, having pillow fights, and listening to me read through Judy Blume's "Fudge" series.  They enjoyed the "iconic" spots too, the destination just wasn't all that important to them.  The important thing was to just spend quality time together.  The best memories aren't planned, they just happen when we spend time with those we love. 
      This will be a trip we will always remember... so here's some pics for you to enjoy of our fun!   

Javan and Cali at the hotel in Bakersfield

Pillow Fight!

I usually won:)

high-fiving Javan

Look at the air Cali got

I gave free train rides around the pool

What a beautiful girl, inside and out

Jim hanging out with Cali and Javan

The Ocean near Paso Robles

Circus antics

Are we all ready to join?

Not sure what's going on in this pic

Cali and Javan's favorite thing to climb besides rocks, lol

Cali on a rock in Sequoia

cozy cubby at the hotel...no she didn't sleep there

The cannon at the park across the street from our house

Ducks in a row?

They convinced me to join them on the bridge

Pure kid silliness...Cali and Javan with friends Max and Madi

Just the right size

Smiles all around

While We Are Waiting

Here's a pic of us on our latest trip to San Fransisco



     Waiting is not easy.  There are days when Jim and I just want to skip ahead to the next chapter of life when our baby is already born and safe in our arms.  Unfortunately, that is not the way life works.  For whatever reason, our adoption journey has taken longer than we expected.  We are learning the lesson of finding balance in our lives and actively living while we wait.
     This spring we started talking about how we both felt that in some ways we had been putting life "on hold" while we waited to adopt.  We both were feeling weary from the wait, but didn't know how to break out of our rut.  Then we read a statement by Les and Leslie Parrot that really got our attention.  They talked about the trap of  "indefinitely preparing to live."  We looked at each other and it clicked.  That's exactly what we had been doing.  Most of our conversations, much of our time and energy was all focused on the future.  We were trying to live in the there and then instead of the here and now.  As much as we want to speed up time, it's out of our control.  If we constantly grasp at the future, we will miss out on the present.
     So we decided to make some changes.  I am writing again- not just adoption related topics, but for fun!  I've even set a personal goal to submit one of my stories to a children's magazine by fall.  We are taking two great vacations this summer.  First, in June, we are traveling to Arizona to visit my parents and pick up our niece and nephew for two weeks.  In July, we are flying to Michigan to visit family and then on to Florida for a convention with our church and Disney World.  We are working on personal goals such as getting in better shape and learning Spanish.  We are enjoying what is happening in our lives right now! 
     That doesn't mean that there isn't any preparing and dreaming going on!  We still talk about "When our baby arrives..."  We still pray every day that our baby will be with us soon.  We pray for the birthmother that we will one day have a realtionship with, that God would give her peace and courage and strength.  We still set aside time to for adoption related activities.  But we are also taking time to live in the now!
     We have a good and full life.  We have a great relationship with each other.  We have wonderful friends and family.  We have much to enjoy in the here and now while we are waiting!

Empty Arms On Mother's Day

     I wrote the article below several years ago.  It talks about my struggle with infertility and the peace I was able to find through my faith in God.  Since that time my husband and I have continued on our journey toward parenthood.  We have experienced many ups and downs along the way.  In 2008 we began the paperwork for the adoption process.  In Spring 2009, I became pregnant but lost the baby to miscarriage at 11 weeks.  We've had several contacts by potential birthmothers and a match that fell through last summer.  Now we find ourselves here in 2012 still in the waiting process.  Our arms may be empty today, but our hearts remain full of hope.  We know that God has a plan for us and so we continue to wait for our baby to come home to us.  I hope this article will encourage others who find themselves with empty arms this Mother's Day.  Whether your arms are waiting for a baby still hoped for, grieving for a baby you lovingly placed in another woman's arms, or wishing for one more hug from your Mom- I hope you can find joy and peace and hope.  Happy Mother's Day!

     Empty Arms on Mother's Day

By Amy Thomas

Published Church of God Evangel, May 2006

     Pain and heartache surface at the most inconvenient times- sudden tears on the way to a sister's baby shower...a tightening knot in the stomach at the announcement of yet another friend's "surprise" pregnancy"...the uncontrollable and unmistakable flushed face and embarrassment at an uncle's tactless blurting our, "So when are you two going to start popping out kids?"  But for the couple living and struggling with infertility, one of the worst days of the year is Mother's Day.

     Mother's Day is filled with mixed emotions for me.  I have a great mother and mother-in-law, both of whom I am happy to honor on that day.  I have siblings and friends who have children; I rejoice with them in their celebration of life.  But on Mother's day, I also have the painful reminder that I am still childless after 10 years of marriage.  So many years I have sat through a Mother's Day service wearing a brave smile on the outside, all the while crying on the inside and counting the seconds until the service is over and I can dash to the safety of the car before the tears gush out.

     In this article, however, I want to tell of a journey God has taken me on since Mother's Day two years ago.  A journey of heartache, of healing, and of restored hope in God's promise.

The Heartache

     I woke up Sunday morning, already dreading the day.  Usually I'm rushing my husband along, excited about getting to church early for praise team practice and to make preparations for the community dinner to follow the morning service.  But on that day, I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed to shower and get dressed.  I put on one of my favorite dresses, hoping it would make me feel better.  I checked my hair and makeup; I checked to see if we had everything.  Then I checked everything again, stalling, in hopes of postponing the upcoming dread, if only for another five minutes.  But the trip began, and I had to face the day head-on.

     Before service I stood at the door to pin flowers on all the mothers as they came in-young mothers with babes in arms and toddlers clinging to their coats, middle-aged mothers with teenagers following at a safe "cool" distance, elderly mothers whose children had grown- all having one thing in common with each other, but not with me.  I found myself wondering if I would ever have a place among them.

     I don't remember much of the service that morning.  I'm ashamed to say that I spend most of the time feeling sorry for myself and just keeping the tears in check.  Usually I would at least have my husband sitting next to me to hold my hand and give a little encouragement throughout the service.  But this year, he had other responsibilities...and so I was all alone.

The Healing

     It was actually a few weeks after Mother's Day that the healing began to take place.  My friend Stacey led a Bible study on the "Lament" psalms.  After reading several passages and sharing an outline with us, she encouraged us to write our own lament concerning an issue in our lives.  Immediately, my infertility came to mind.  At first I dismissed it.  I really wanted to pick a "safer" topic, especially since there were lots of people around, and I wasn't sure if we were going to be asked to share at the end.

     But then I thought of David.  David obviously found comfort in pouring out his heart, his feelings, his stuggles and deepest pain into his psalms.  Maybe I could find comfort there as well.  I began writing, and the words began to flow.  I began to feel a release from the pain; the burden was lifting.  I didn't want to stop writing!  After the service was dismissed, I went home and wrote some more.  With each line it seemed I traded some of my pain for God's peace.  By the end, my hope had been restored.  God was in control.  He still had a plan for my life.  I could trust Him to meet all my needs.  "Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations for ever and ever!  Amen."  (Ephesians 3:20, 21, NIV).

The Hope

     To be perfectly honest, there are days when I still struggle with my infertility.  There are still tears on occasion, still a brave smile to be worn at times.  I don't think the pain will ever completely go away, but at the same time I now have something to hold on to.  I've had my Jacob experience of wrestling with God, and I'm holding on to it.  I've poured out my pain; I've asked the questions I was afraid to ask.  God is sovereign, still in control.

     Whether God chooses to bless me with children or not, I am finally at peace.  I still serve a God who is able.  He is able to sustain me.  He is able to bring me peace and joy in the midst of any circumstance.  He is able to work all things (even this) for my good.

Dear Lord, my Father, my Savior, and my Friend,

sometimes I just don't understand-

You've heard my prayer; You know my desire;

You've seen my tears; You've heard my cry.

Why haven't you given me a child?

You opened Sarah's womb; You opened Rachel's womb;

You even opened Mary's womb to send your Son into the world.

Why won't you open mine?

I see so many unwanted children, abandoned children, abused children.

I would love our children and raise them to serve You.

Lord, I look to You! You are my healer and my provider,

my Savior and my Lord.  All power and authority is in Your hand.

There is nothing too difficult for You.

Lord, breathe life into my barren womb; fill my empty arms;

soothe my aching heart!

Lord, I will give You the praise.  I will testify of Your mighty works. 

My voice will not go unheard; I will give all glory to You.

Lord, I rest in the promise that you hear my cry; and not only do You hear,

but You answer.

I put my hope and my trust in You. 

I know that You are faithful to me always.

I will be faithful to You.

Whatever the future, whatever Your plan. 

I will continue to praise You.  I love You, Lord.







Jim and Amy Hoping to Adopt: Daddy's Arms

Jim and Amy Hoping to Adopt: Daddy's Arms:      I would like to welcome my sweet husband Jim back as a guest blogger this week.  I hope you enjoy reading about his memories of his fat...

Daddy's Arms

     I would like to welcome my sweet husband Jim back as a guest blogger this week.  I hope you enjoy reading about his memories of his father's arms and the longing he has to have his arms filled.  You might want to have a box of tissue close by. 

     Although it was many years ago, I still remember it better than yesterday.  I was probably five or six.  We had been out past my bedtime and I had fallen asleep on the long ride home.  Upon arriving home I awakened, but did not stir.  Instead I did what is sometimes typical of children:  I played "possum."  I pretended to be asleep so that someone would carry me into the house and put me to bed. 
     Dad was a genuinely kind man.  He had an active work life as a postal carrier, delivering mail and walking typically 4-5 miles each workday.  It wasn't in his nature to say many cross words to another person.  Even though he had worked hard and was probably exhausted after a long day, Dad still picked up his tired son, carried him into the house, and put him to bed.
     There was something gentle, soothing and reassuring about Dad's arms.  When he held me I felt cared for, loved, even protected.  When Dad held me, for that moment my world was at peace.  I had seen him use the strength of those arms in plowing a garden by hand, in splitting wood and in other chores.  I loved him.  I miss him.
     Dad had no memory of his father's arms.  His father died when Dad was a year old.  Dad readily admitted that he didn't know how to be a father because he couldn't remember having one.  More than twenty-five years after losing him, my heart still aches for Dad, for his loving arms.  He did alright by me.
     Lately my arms have been aching.  I do miss Dad's hugs, but that isn't the only ache I have been feeling.  My arms ache for the child we conceived, but wasn't born.  They ache for the baby promised to us by a birthmother, but lost to us when she walked away.  I ache from the longing to be a father when I am daily reminded by the sight of selfish men who have abandoned this role for temporary gain.  I ache to channel the love of my Dad through my own arms to my children.  I look forward to carrying my son or daughter and putting him/her to bed.  I especially look forward to doing this when he/she is just playing "possum." 
     So where are you?  I have been aching to feel you in my arms for years now, and you have not yet been born.  Whenever you come, know that my arms are ready.  And whenever you do come, know that your arrival will be the only medicine that can cure the ache in my arms.  Carrying you will never be as heavy as carrying this incessant longing for you.  Please come home to us.  Your Mom and I have been waiting for you. 

    
   

Over the Moon

   
    I really enjoy reading...especially children's literature.   Recently, I checked out several adoption related picture books from our local library.  Below is a book review I wrote on one of the books for a writing class I am taking.  It's not my typical genre of writing- but I was happy with the end result:)  I'd love to hear some suggestions of your favorite adoption related stories. 

Book Review:  Over the Moon-An Adoption Tale

     Over the Moon-An Adoption Tale, is a joyful celebration of adoption that will appeal to both children and parents alike.  Karen Katz is an adoptive parent.   She wrote and illustrated this book to commemorate the birth of her daughter who was adopted from Central America.   The story follows the couple’s journey to parenthood from eager anticipation to the satisfied contentment of bringing their baby home for the first time.  The book is targeted for a K-3 audience, but could also be read aloud to toddlers.

     As a hopeful adoptive mom, I think this book has several characteristics that make it not only a great story, but also a helpful resource for adoptive families.  There are lots of good adoption books.  I think this book goes beyond the norm and integrates three key aspects of adoption.  This adds depth to the story and opens up opportunities for parents to discuss adoption with their children. 

     First of all, the book includes the community aspect of adoption.  At the beginning of the story we see the support offered to the hopeful adoptive parents.  The grandmother, the fruit seller, and the neighbor all ask about when the baby will arrive.  They are eagerly and actively waiting right along with the couple.  Hopeful adoptive parents are sometimes reluctant to show excitement in the waiting process because there is no definitive amount of time to wait.  A support system becomes vitally important.  This couple is supported by a loving community who shares in the waiting and in the celebration when the baby girl is brought home. 

      Second, the story deals with the wide range of emotions the couple goes through.  At the beginning of the story the couple both dream about their baby.  They are excited and hopeful.  When they get “the call”, they are overjoyed and barely able to contain their excitement.  The illustration shows them hugging, suspended in mid-air, with fireworks going off around them.  The next step is nervous anticipation as they pack, prepare and fly away “on a giant airplane…over the moon and through the night.”  The moment of meeting is peaceful and happy, but closely followed by the fear of failing as brand new parents.  Finally there is an exuberant celebration home coming for the new forever family.   The range of emotions adds richness to the story and lets us see the story as a journey in progress and not just a single event. 

     Finally, the book honors the baby girl’s heritage.  This story deals with an international adoption so there is no ongoing relationship with the birthmother.  However, the birthmother is acknowledged, “You grew like a flower in another lady’s tummy until you were born.  But the lady wasn’t able to take care of you, so Mommy and Daddy came to adopt you and take you home.”  Also the baby girl’s homeland is described with references to palm trees, the sea, the mountains, and birds of many colors and depicted by bold, whimsical illustrations.  This is an important part of the baby girl’s adoption/birth story.   Who am I?  Where do I come from?  Who do I look like?  These are all integral aspects of forming an identity.  An adoptive child’s story does not begin with the adoption.  The history and heritage that comes before the adoption is a crucial part of the story. 

     Over the Moon-An Adoption Tale is authentic and heartfelt.  Karen Katz has created a sweet gift, not only for her adopted daughter, but for the many adoptive families who have shared a similar journey.  I would definitely recommend this book.