It's a funny thing, rest. Josh keeps reminding me that we never felt like we got enough of it before the baby came along, so we shouldn't feel too deprived now. We've actually reached a pretty good rhythm for the time being, so I can't complain too much. Still, it's non-stop staring at the baby and that'll take a lot outta ya.
I have big plans to start back at the beginning and tell the story of being in the delivery room when our son was born, cutting the cord and stifling a giggle when he peed all over the doctor with the bad attitude. There's the journey home to share, involving a lot of tears and then hysterics as we pulled over in an eastern Colorado field to undo the mess he made all over his "going home" outfit.
I do plan to catch up at some point before he graduates from high school. I promise. I want to do it for Pi (as he'll be known on this site) because it just wouldn't be right for a blog about our growing family to stop when the family actually grows. It'll just take another two arms and a second head. I'll get there. I'm going back to work soon and I remember that smokers get breaks throughout the day. Maybe I'll have blog breaks. But, for those of you still following along every once in a while, something utterly adorable happened today. I'm going to interrupt my silent chronology and skip to today for the time being.
It was a long day out on the town with me hoping that he would get enough sleep in the car or in the ergo carrier to count for his normal nap routine, but it wasn't happening. When we returned home, he was exhausted and fighting so hard to fall asleep. Despite the advice of many, it wasn't going to happen without the common crutches, rocking/bouncing/constant motion and the paci/soothy/binkie/doony, whatever you call it. He did finally fall asleep and I can only imagine that random thing he saw in the plant nursery, on the highway, driving through town that tickled his fancy. He actually laughed in his sleep. Out loud and way beyond the coos we've come to love. He laughed.
We're not at belly laugh yet, but it's amazing to be reminded that this little ball of squish is going to turn into a full-fledged person someday, today even. Each of his new talents surprise me as if I've never seen a baby grow before. Really, it feels like I haven't. This is the first time all of this ever happened for anyone, anywhere as far as I'm concerned. I thought he might stay this way forever, but I'm proven wrong daily.
Wishing you lots of funny rest tonight.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Friday, April 25, 2014
And now...The (beginning of the) Rest of the Story
At the end of a long weekend in the mountains with family
and friends, you would think that a young teenage girl would want to just plug
in her Walkman and tune out on the ride back home with her parents. Instead, I
was interested in the Paul Harvey show (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rest_of_the_Story)
that played on the radio as we rode along. It was always so interesting to hear
the real end of the stories we all
thought we knew. After seven months off from writing the story of our growing
family, we now present the rest of the story.
~
When we first moved into our new home in Denver, we received
a fragile heart-shaped tree ornament from a friend in San Francisco who had
purchased it in one of those tiny shops in the Castro. Eggshell thin and light
as air, it was a bright rainbow striped heart with tiny bands of gold nestled
between each stripe. A proud beacon of love on our colorful Christmas tree, its
shine held a special attraction for children. Of course, that attraction,
combined with its fragility, would conspire in its eventual demise.
I remember that ornament tumbling from the branches of our
tree and bursting into a cloud of tiny shards on the floor during our annual
Winter Solstice party just as one of the youngest guests was reaching for it to express how it was her favorite. The night before, we had stepped out the back door to
gaze up at the full moon winter solstice eclipse at 3:00 am. I remember thinking it was peculiar that the
moon was so dark red, yet all the news reports leading up to that night
referred to it as a “blue moon” because the timing was so rare. That fleeting
moment in our back yard together, with my arms around Tiffany under the red
blue moon, would be made even more auspicious by the fact that it would happen
to be just days into our only pregnancy. However, the baby’s heart would stop
beating just a few short weeks later, in February. I’ve always looked back on
that moment when that beloved heart-shaped ornament shattered as a potential
sign of that heartbreak to come.
When our agency finally collapsed in 2013 and our adoption
group scattered a few months later, we all tried to maintain our connections
with each other. But as others rushed to sign up with other agencies, we felt utterly
finished. We concluded that if a baby didn't join our family by just falling into our
lap, it wasn’t meant to be. We’d give it a year to see what happened and then
we’d finally be done. We’d most likely be a family of two, which would be fine
with us. We have friends who have come to that decision naturally, without
having to endure any devastating mistakes in the process, and we could
certainly also take that path. We could
simply take a deep breath, close our eyes and paint over the giraffe on the
wall, and the elephant trunk, and have a great big yard sale for the rest of
the baby stuff that had accumulated in bright boxes and lined the shelves of
our empty nursery. The “baby’s room” would become the “meditation room,” and we
could have a life of rest and thriftiness that would eventually lead to early
retirement and vacations in Spain. Besides, we already had children in our
lives, just other people’s kids. We could spend fun times with them and then go
home to hypothesize about various styles of parenting and then contemplate our
next vacation once we got bored with that conversation. That actually didn’t
sound so bad at all when we talked about it last year. And, honestly, it still sounds
pretty good.
Just a couple of months later brought an interesting twist.
It was a day full of signs and messages sprinkled with hope and caution. The last step in
being done with the agency we had been working with was for them to send us
back the profile book that had been sitting on their shelf for the previous year and a half. One bright autumn day, we came home to two packages on the porch. One was the profile
book in a torn paper grocery bag with no note or anything attached. “Well, I guess
that’s the official end of that,” we said to each other.
The other package was an unexpected gift from a friend in South Africa. It included two sweet heart-themed gifts. One was a simple string of wooden beads tied with twine which lead to a larger heart made of wood. The other was a string of soapstone hearts each stamped with the words love, hope or joy. These particular friends have always been very supportive of us over the years. They have three children and are a true model of positive parenting, always nurturing and engaging with their kids. It’s really beautiful to witness. They make it seem very possible (and even rewarding) to be parents. They later shared that they just sent the package for fun, not for any special reason.
The other package was an unexpected gift from a friend in South Africa. It included two sweet heart-themed gifts. One was a simple string of wooden beads tied with twine which lead to a larger heart made of wood. The other was a string of soapstone hearts each stamped with the words love, hope or joy. These particular friends have always been very supportive of us over the years. They have three children and are a true model of positive parenting, always nurturing and engaging with their kids. It’s really beautiful to witness. They make it seem very possible (and even rewarding) to be parents. They later shared that they just sent the package for fun, not for any special reason.
On that evening when we received our profile book that
finally closed the chapter with the agency and that special gift of hearts, we
were also particularly distracted by other news. That day, we had learned about someone
who knew someone who was intending to place her baby for adoption and was looking for
a couple to place him with. All of a sudden we had a big decision to
make. Should we hop back on the adoption train? We had seen it derail several
times and were beginning to feel pretty comfy with the idea of jumping on the
child free train headed in the opposite direction. Suffice it to say that the adoption “adventure” had
been a really, really, really bad
trip. But this was still exciting and positive news, or at least we would have
certainly seen it that way in the past. It was just a shame it was coming years
later than we would have liked. But…there we were anyway. We stared at the new
heart-shaped ornament we received on that truly auspicious day and considered that at least this
one was made of wood. Maybe it wouldn’t shatter this time.
Not wanting to ever succumb to blind hope and get hurt again
had driven us to be extremely cautious with our expectations. We spent the
following three months waiting for the birth mother to decide that she wanted
us to parent her baby. We kept our secret close to home and only allowed the occasional
“what if?” to creep into our dreams. After our trip to Costa Rica in January,
we learned that she did in fact want to place her baby boy with us and that she
would be due in March. We also learned that she had been hospitalized for
preterm labor multiple times during this pregnancy and that we should be ready
for a preemie.
Now when we see that wooden heart hanging in our home, it gives us a sense of peace that this time our hearts won’t be broken. As for the other string of hearts, we put that over the door to his room to remind him of how much love he’ll give and receive each day, and how glad we are that he finally made it home to our hearts.
Miraculously, she carried him to full term and we were there for the delivery and discharge of our little boy. He’s now six weeks old and we have yet to figure out how to describe what we’ve been feeling since March 14th (Pi Day!). We’ll make every attempt to get back into this blog with more frequent updates. It will certainly be more fun to write the posts again. Feel free to stay tuned if you want to. We have a lot of catching up to do.
Miraculously, she carried him to full term and we were there for the delivery and discharge of our little boy. He’s now six weeks old and we have yet to figure out how to describe what we’ve been feeling since March 14th (Pi Day!). We’ll make every attempt to get back into this blog with more frequent updates. It will certainly be more fun to write the posts again. Feel free to stay tuned if you want to. We have a lot of catching up to do.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
A Cleansing Rain
We saw a postcard in a gift shop the other day that read:
It made us laugh, but in the same jaded, angry way we've laughed for years now. We decided not to pick it up.
This journey has made some undesirable characters out of us. We go to work, we meet with friends, we love our loved ones. However, the anger bubbles just beneath the surface and rears its head in ugly ways every once in a while. A few weeks ago, we both had finally had enough. There comes a time in every adventure when the element of excitement turns to something sad, or worse. With us, that often means turning the car around or boarding the plane home because vacation is over. In this case, it meant that we had become people we didn't like anymore. Anxious, cynical, cheated people who weren't able to see the beauty around us because we were crowded by the mess of buffoonery too close in view. It was time to put an end to it.
We realize that we've been quiet lately. It's been over a month since our last post and it was a long time before that since you heard from us. Just know that there hasn't been anything we were comfortable sharing. It's been a time of making hard decisions and we needed to make that an insular process. Not all caterpillars are ugly and not all butterflies are beautiful, so it can't be said that it's always a progression for the better, but you get the idea. We've come out of our little cocoon and are beginning to spread our wings again, tentatively.
Some people have the tenacity to wait through multiple failed baby placements, or even years of silence for their special bundle to arrive through adoption. On the other hand, we know people who would never even consider adoption to grow their family. Everyone has to know their limits. Even if we didn't know what those limits were when we started down this path, we've reached ours. After three failed matches, two of them criminal, and four babies that we were told to welcome into our hearts because they were "ours," but they turned out not to be, Josh appropriately declared that no one ever gets to hold our major life decisions in the palm of their hand again (as long as we're conscious). And, I agreed.
Right about the time that a majority of our state was under water, our spirits needed that cleansing rain. We soaked it up. We used it to deliver us a new perspective and a renewed interest in the little things around us. Our favorite summer concert venue was completely lost to the floods here a few weeks ago and the owner simply said that he was "power washing the facility." That was the perspective we needed to absorb. What could result from the torrential soak we've endured are cleaner, fresher versions of us. But not if we didn't first make the move to wash away the layers of stagnant muck.
For those of you who like the details, here is how it went with the adoption agency. Just weeks after we made the decision to search for our sanity again and put an end to this pursuit, we got a message from them. It turns out that they aren't working with any birth mothers and they are sending all families on a search for a new agency to work with to grow their family. We had already been in talks with another agency for about five months. We had already received the application packet and our hearts sank at the thought of diving in again and starting over. We had already made the decision not to put ourselves through that. When we heard from the agency with which we were working, we felt some comfort in having an emotional head start on this next round of surprising twists along our gnarled path. We weren't surprised at their closing and we were already clear on what our next steps were before they dealt the latest blow to our dreams.
Maybe the butterfly was an optimistic image to put in your minds. We're certainly not fluttering around weightless just yet. We might be more like that 100-year-old tortoise at the zoo. The one that mostly sits and watches what is going on around her, sticking her head out to see if anything new and interesting might be happening and quickly retracting when she senses danger or annoyances. Yes, we're cautious right now. But, we are sure of our decision and that's refreshing after years of questioning what's next. We have finally shed a few pounds of doubt that hovered over us for too long.
Thank you for your support for the past 22 months through reading these posts about our roller coaster. We don't know what the future holds, but we're sure it will be an improvement over parts of the past. We've committed to making one hard decision at a time, and nothing else. You know, living in the moment...
Eventually, you might notice that spring in our step again. For now, we're just getting our springy shoes on. With summer coming to a close, and a greenhouse to build, we're going to focus on growing our farm-ily instead of our family.
Putting the Whole
Hideous Thing
Behind Me
by Blogging
About It
It made us laugh, but in the same jaded, angry way we've laughed for years now. We decided not to pick it up.
This journey has made some undesirable characters out of us. We go to work, we meet with friends, we love our loved ones. However, the anger bubbles just beneath the surface and rears its head in ugly ways every once in a while. A few weeks ago, we both had finally had enough. There comes a time in every adventure when the element of excitement turns to something sad, or worse. With us, that often means turning the car around or boarding the plane home because vacation is over. In this case, it meant that we had become people we didn't like anymore. Anxious, cynical, cheated people who weren't able to see the beauty around us because we were crowded by the mess of buffoonery too close in view. It was time to put an end to it.
We realize that we've been quiet lately. It's been over a month since our last post and it was a long time before that since you heard from us. Just know that there hasn't been anything we were comfortable sharing. It's been a time of making hard decisions and we needed to make that an insular process. Not all caterpillars are ugly and not all butterflies are beautiful, so it can't be said that it's always a progression for the better, but you get the idea. We've come out of our little cocoon and are beginning to spread our wings again, tentatively.
Some people have the tenacity to wait through multiple failed baby placements, or even years of silence for their special bundle to arrive through adoption. On the other hand, we know people who would never even consider adoption to grow their family. Everyone has to know their limits. Even if we didn't know what those limits were when we started down this path, we've reached ours. After three failed matches, two of them criminal, and four babies that we were told to welcome into our hearts because they were "ours," but they turned out not to be, Josh appropriately declared that no one ever gets to hold our major life decisions in the palm of their hand again (as long as we're conscious). And, I agreed.
Right about the time that a majority of our state was under water, our spirits needed that cleansing rain. We soaked it up. We used it to deliver us a new perspective and a renewed interest in the little things around us. Our favorite summer concert venue was completely lost to the floods here a few weeks ago and the owner simply said that he was "power washing the facility." That was the perspective we needed to absorb. What could result from the torrential soak we've endured are cleaner, fresher versions of us. But not if we didn't first make the move to wash away the layers of stagnant muck.
For those of you who like the details, here is how it went with the adoption agency. Just weeks after we made the decision to search for our sanity again and put an end to this pursuit, we got a message from them. It turns out that they aren't working with any birth mothers and they are sending all families on a search for a new agency to work with to grow their family. We had already been in talks with another agency for about five months. We had already received the application packet and our hearts sank at the thought of diving in again and starting over. We had already made the decision not to put ourselves through that. When we heard from the agency with which we were working, we felt some comfort in having an emotional head start on this next round of surprising twists along our gnarled path. We weren't surprised at their closing and we were already clear on what our next steps were before they dealt the latest blow to our dreams.
Maybe the butterfly was an optimistic image to put in your minds. We're certainly not fluttering around weightless just yet. We might be more like that 100-year-old tortoise at the zoo. The one that mostly sits and watches what is going on around her, sticking her head out to see if anything new and interesting might be happening and quickly retracting when she senses danger or annoyances. Yes, we're cautious right now. But, we are sure of our decision and that's refreshing after years of questioning what's next. We have finally shed a few pounds of doubt that hovered over us for too long.
Thank you for your support for the past 22 months through reading these posts about our roller coaster. We don't know what the future holds, but we're sure it will be an improvement over parts of the past. We've committed to making one hard decision at a time, and nothing else. You know, living in the moment...
Eventually, you might notice that spring in our step again. For now, we're just getting our springy shoes on. With summer coming to a close, and a greenhouse to build, we're going to focus on growing our farm-ily instead of our family.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Intruding on Hippos
As you might have guessed, we've been pretty busy lately. We've managed to be away every weekend for multiple weeks in a row on camping trips to the mountains nearby. The weeknights have been consumed by music practice, babysitting, rescuing the garden from squirrels and cleaning up after or packing for the next weekend. The weekdays have both of us neck deep in big projects at work, with more piled on before we can complete the task at hand.
Some complicated family dynamics, a lot of stress and not enough time in the day for life to do its thing have made for some rough waters along our stretch of the creek. With emotions so high, life-changing decisions get made and then rethought a day later. Then, we're back where we started. Not a lot of what we're going through is fit for the blog, but I thought of a way to sum it up for you.
Lately, I feel like I'm standing too close to a hippo guarding his stretch of beach:
http://youtu.be/hy8nDb5nCak?t=10s
Some complicated family dynamics, a lot of stress and not enough time in the day for life to do its thing have made for some rough waters along our stretch of the creek. With emotions so high, life-changing decisions get made and then rethought a day later. Then, we're back where we started. Not a lot of what we're going through is fit for the blog, but I thought of a way to sum it up for you.
Lately, I feel like I'm standing too close to a hippo guarding his stretch of beach:
http://youtu.be/hy8nDb5nCak?t=10s
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Parenting Books
Despite the claims of exasperated parents everywhere that there are no books telling them how to raise a child, there are in fact hundreds (maybe thousands) of titles on bookstore shelves claiming to lead these parents to the happiest, healthiest, hippest kid on the planet. There are books about sleeping, feeding, clothing, loving, disciplining, educating and so much more. There really is no excuse for not knowing what you're doing these days.
Except that books can't train you for your baby. Thank goodness we're not all wired the same way. It's a relief to know that human beings still maintain some shred of individualism and can throw curve balls at the "experts" who think they have it all figured out. Unfortunately, these experts succeed in selling millions of copies to desperate parents trying to get their baby to stop crying, sleep through the night, eat more variety or just generally be super cute and easy to care for. Once the neurotic parent has read these how-to manuals and inevitably fails at the execution of steps 1, 2 and 3, the guilt of not doing it "right" sets in. The happiest, healthiest, hippest kids I know are cared for by parents feeling their way along the murkiness of parenthood and doing what feels right for their family, not the latest trends in baby care.
In contrast to my general advice (because I'm an expert too, just an uninformed one) to just take it as it comes and do what feels best for you at the time, in this case we do have a book recommendation for parents everywhere. It's a parenting book that will make your most embarrassing, frustrating or feeling-incompetent stories about how you're parenting absolutely okay. Our only disclaimer is that the language is foul. Be ready to wince at some of the expressions within.
We read the book to each other last weekend and both of us shared moments of laughter and tears. It's well-written and, again from an uninformed perspective, describes what we're sure we'll experience someday. We can already relate to some of the scary moments in the story. However, mostly we were in stitches at the way seemingly benign trips to the grocery store or the playground are described. It crosses generations and we're sure most of you will get a kick out of it, young or old, kids or kid free.
Check it out at your local library and enjoy a few days of a funny tale. It will make all of your parenting decisions seem brilliant and it will also pierce your heart with the unconditional love of parenthood.
P.S. After you've read this and you assume that we're planning to parent with four letter words, please know that we've also recently acquired this:
Don't worry, kindness will always prevail in this house....but foul-mouthed sarcasm gets a nod every so often.
Except that books can't train you for your baby. Thank goodness we're not all wired the same way. It's a relief to know that human beings still maintain some shred of individualism and can throw curve balls at the "experts" who think they have it all figured out. Unfortunately, these experts succeed in selling millions of copies to desperate parents trying to get their baby to stop crying, sleep through the night, eat more variety or just generally be super cute and easy to care for. Once the neurotic parent has read these how-to manuals and inevitably fails at the execution of steps 1, 2 and 3, the guilt of not doing it "right" sets in. The happiest, healthiest, hippest kids I know are cared for by parents feeling their way along the murkiness of parenthood and doing what feels right for their family, not the latest trends in baby care.
In contrast to my general advice (because I'm an expert too, just an uninformed one) to just take it as it comes and do what feels best for you at the time, in this case we do have a book recommendation for parents everywhere. It's a parenting book that will make your most embarrassing, frustrating or feeling-incompetent stories about how you're parenting absolutely okay. Our only disclaimer is that the language is foul. Be ready to wince at some of the expressions within.
We read the book to each other last weekend and both of us shared moments of laughter and tears. It's well-written and, again from an uninformed perspective, describes what we're sure we'll experience someday. We can already relate to some of the scary moments in the story. However, mostly we were in stitches at the way seemingly benign trips to the grocery store or the playground are described. It crosses generations and we're sure most of you will get a kick out of it, young or old, kids or kid free.
Check it out at your local library and enjoy a few days of a funny tale. It will make all of your parenting decisions seem brilliant and it will also pierce your heart with the unconditional love of parenthood.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Dear All of Us
Sometimes the craziness of life can leave you feeling like you're gasping for air in the deep end of the pool. It's hard to remember that everything, and I mean all of it, is temporary. We don't have enough fingers to count the things that are unresolved and challenging in our lives right now. For me, the physical reaction is a tightness high in my chest that I try to take deep breaths to diffuse. We're just left with throwing our hands up and knowing that regardless of our stress levels life will continue on, however it is going to - on its own time, along its own twisty path. In the midst of this dizzying chaos, I found this plaque in a shop the other day and it resonated with me. So now, we own it and I try to read it multiple times daily as I catch my breath and wait for what's next. I'm passing it along in case you too are trying to stay afloat these days.
We were excited to learn that our neighborhood started a new Farmers Market last night (or rather, Farmer's Market, since there was only one farmer). We checked it out and it was a little dreamlike inside when we felt how happy and peaceful the place was while nestled along one of the busy thoroughfares through town in rush hour traffic. It was packed with our neighbors and a lot of hopeful feelings for a new traditional food truck dinner on Wednesdays in the 'hood. There were, of course, kids everywhere. The loved it. We just hoped it will last enough seasons that our own will get to enjoy it as well on these perfect summer evenings.
The live musician at the market sparked something in my house band's soul and when we came home and I stepped inside, this is what I found in our back yard minutes later.
There is goodness in the summertime. Easy livin' and peaceful evenings are for the taking. Summertimes' oppressive heat can force you to relax, without getting all of the chores done or coming to terms with everything that the air-conditioned day shot at you like a fire hose. Sometimes, you just have to stop and soak it in.
After our calming stroll through the neighborhood market, we even got a response from the agency on my standard three questions about the status of their work with potential birth mothers. They are working with women now who are due in the next couple of months. None of them are ready to look at profile books yet and, despite the urging of future grandparents to rush that part of the process, we appreciate the care it takes to make sure these women really want to make an adoption plan for their baby before showing them eager families waiting to adopt. It's a process that takes time to make sure it goes well. It is just very reassuring when we get hints that there is actually a process happening.
The irony in the lyrics and tone of this song rings true for me right now. Enjoy this as you sip on your summertime drink of choice tonight and remember us over here treading water, but livin' easy this summer, all at the same time.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Average
Summer is in full swing. That means our days and evenings are packed with fun things going on outside. Our good friend asked me last week "How often do you two not have plans in the evenings after work?" The answer is rarely. At around the same time, another good friend sent us this article. Do yourself a favor and take the time to read through it. It's long, but important.
In the context of that article, I suppose our claims of being busy all the time could sound like boastfulness. The truth is that sometimes those busy plans consist of pulling a few weeds and sitting on the back deck, drinking wine and talking about how lucky we are to the sound of the bubbling water fall we created in our own little urban oasis. Sometimes I'll say no to any plan being made so that there's time for a weekly laugh with a good friend in CA, or sometimes I'm blocking out time for yoga so that I can maintain some semblance of patience with my life and the people in it. Once a week, Josh is "too busy" to do anything else because he's playing music with his band. We dedicate time to just being grateful for what we have and for enjoying it to the fullest during the seasons that allow us to be outside in it.
Today marks the nineteenth month that we've been working with our agency with the hope of growing our family. Eighteen months is often quoted as the "average" wait time for an adopting family to be placed with a baby. We met the newest member of our adoption group last week, the second baby placed with a couple in our circle of waiting parents. After hearing their story, it is again evident that no two journeys follow the same path. After our own three failed matches with what were touted as "our" babies, we know that there is nothing average about The Wait. With only two of the seven families in our group placed with their babies in the past 18 months, it seems even the average time it takes to Wait has been extended beyond the norm for us.
I'm sorry to report that we have no information from our agency about any planned placements any time soon. And so, we remain "too busy" with fulfilling activities during The Wait. We volunteer, exercise, grow food, play music and love our friends, family and ourselves. Nothing distracts us from the knowledge that we're Waiting. Not even a packed schedule could help us avoid that incessant truth. But, we don't stay busy to brag and avoid life, we stay busy to soak in everything life has to offer us in this present moment. And, there's a lot on the table if you're open to it. We're also open to the notion that at the end of our journey, we'll either be here:
Stay tuned to find out!
Thank you from the bottom of our busy, but full, hearts for your continued support.
In the context of that article, I suppose our claims of being busy all the time could sound like boastfulness. The truth is that sometimes those busy plans consist of pulling a few weeds and sitting on the back deck, drinking wine and talking about how lucky we are to the sound of the bubbling water fall we created in our own little urban oasis. Sometimes I'll say no to any plan being made so that there's time for a weekly laugh with a good friend in CA, or sometimes I'm blocking out time for yoga so that I can maintain some semblance of patience with my life and the people in it. Once a week, Josh is "too busy" to do anything else because he's playing music with his band. We dedicate time to just being grateful for what we have and for enjoying it to the fullest during the seasons that allow us to be outside in it.
Today marks the nineteenth month that we've been working with our agency with the hope of growing our family. Eighteen months is often quoted as the "average" wait time for an adopting family to be placed with a baby. We met the newest member of our adoption group last week, the second baby placed with a couple in our circle of waiting parents. After hearing their story, it is again evident that no two journeys follow the same path. After our own three failed matches with what were touted as "our" babies, we know that there is nothing average about The Wait. With only two of the seven families in our group placed with their babies in the past 18 months, it seems even the average time it takes to Wait has been extended beyond the norm for us.
I'm sorry to report that we have no information from our agency about any planned placements any time soon. And so, we remain "too busy" with fulfilling activities during The Wait. We volunteer, exercise, grow food, play music and love our friends, family and ourselves. Nothing distracts us from the knowledge that we're Waiting. Not even a packed schedule could help us avoid that incessant truth. But, we don't stay busy to brag and avoid life, we stay busy to soak in everything life has to offer us in this present moment. And, there's a lot on the table if you're open to it. We're also open to the notion that at the end of our journey, we'll either be here:
or here:
Stay tuned to find out!
Thank you from the bottom of our busy, but full, hearts for your continued support.
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