Handling Loss

One of the life lessons I hope to be able to teach our child is how to grieve. At this point, I can only hope to teach them because I am not sure that I have learned how best to grieve yet. I do know that it is important to do or the pain will bite us later when we least expect it. But, knowing just how best to grieve is a skill I am unfortunate enough to keep learning to perfect.

So many different losses can teach us how to grieve. The obvious ones are losing a loved one, being wronged by someone important to you, or thinking you had a cookie left, but realizing you do not. Okay, so I grieve through levity sometimes. What can I say? I did say I am still learning.

One loss that can sit like a lump in your throat and leave you wondering what level of grief is appropriate is the loss of someone once important to you with whom you had fallen out of touch. Memories of that person flood in and seem so current and relevant when you hear that they have passed away. As you discover the details of the life they went on living after you parted ways, you cannot help but relate to those who love them now and were likely the most present thing in their mind as they passed. You realize that while they did not occupy the same presence in your everyday life that they once did, they have had a profound effect on you in some way. You grieve the loss of that potential relationship, even if it was effectively put on pause years ago.

This week, I am grieving the loss of a former coworker and friend from the first few years after we moved to Colorado. Her interest in my resume is why we are currently living here and her hiring me contributed to the path we are currently living. It is hard to separate memories of her from our early days in our new home, new careers, new lives. Although our connection had grown distant in the past few years, she came up now and again and I was always pleased to learn of her happiness in her new life, full of adventure and a devoted love with her partner.

Her death was sudden, tragic and much too soon. In these cases, I always struggle with accepting this new reality. I never can stomach any contemplated reason for the loss. For her love, who was planning to propose the day she died, and her community, who lost their daughter, sibling and friend on Mother's Day, I offer this as a gentle reminder that she will always be with them.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,

I am the swift, uplifting rush

of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.

I am not there. I did not die.

~  Mary Elizabeth Frye

One of the most important aspects I take from each loss, and probably the number one lesson I have to pass on to our as yet unknown baby, is to cherish what I have with me in the living. It sounds trite, but life really is fragile and can be unexpectedly taken from us at any time. Until you have lived that reality, it is near impossible to believe. Once you have lived through that reality, you do not take anyone for granted..for a while at least. It is painful to realize you needed another reminder to hold your loved ones close, but the reminders are also so important in order to keep us present and aware of the love and beauty that surrounds us.

Tonight, I wish you peace and gratitude.

Keep the Red Maple in Your Sights

This journey affects more people than just the two of us. I have written before about how the hope, excitement and disappointment along our path so far has been shared by our family, friends and coworkers and we are so grateful to you for your support of us and for your endurance in your own experience with this Wait. We know most of you reading this blog are just as wrapped up in the agony of The Wait as you can possibly stand. We understand that along this path optimism ebbs and flows with despair like a tiny bird riding the wake of a ship in the stormy sea. There is no way to control if you are going to float up for a while, or plummet downward to await the next rise in spirit. We are all just along for the ride.

Although we know in our hearts that you are all here with us, we try to use this blog to communicate our share of the experience with you, rather than make it the subject of every family gathering, every dinner out with friends, every work event, every walk down the street. This is our outlet. This is how you get a glimpse into how we are doing without having to ask and worry about being the one who brought it up and reminded us that we are waiting, as if we could ever forget.

Because of your sensitivities to our emotions, we do not always hear about your share of the experience. Your thoughtfulness in not focusing on the hard part of this journey can sometimes leave us wondering if anyone remembers that we are waiting at all. We do not know that it wanders into your mind as frequently as it does when every one around you seems to know someone who is waiting to adopt, or is welcoming a new grandchild, or is hosting another baby shower for a friend. The subject pops up unexpectedly and can leave you feeling powerful with hope, like if you just wish for it hard enough, it will come to be. We may not always know you are sharing in this, but we feel the power of that hope and openness too. Sometimes, it feels like we can make this dream come true with collective focus.

As I wrote earlier this week, there are periods during The Wait when signs about adoption abound. In response to that post, I received a few notes from friends who had been quiet for a while that they were still out there, praying for us and keeping all digits crossed. As the week has continued, there have been more signals that we are currently open to the universe's plan for us. That leaves me in an optimistic mood as the week winds down.

Decades ago, our Texas mom served a friend in need on the night of her son's birth. She walked the hospital halls with the woman while labor ensued and held her hand through the toughest parts. That memory has always left this friend with a hope of being able to repay our mom for her kindness on that night and through the years. This family friend now works for an organization which helps mothers in crisis who have no support for their pregnancy. Her work is to help these women decide either to parent their baby or develop an adoption plan, rather than choose abortion. She just learned about our plans to adopt through a discussion with our mom. Knowing our family, and a bit about us personally, she is ecstatic that we are hoping to adopt and is eager to get our profile in front of the women they are serving.

When I shared this story with our Colorado mom, I learned that our local parents have been busy this week as well trying to think of ways to bring their grand baby to us all. Our Colorado dad planted a red maple tree in the meadow behind their house to serve as a visual reminder that we are all waiting for this baby to find us and that someday he/she will arrive. As the tree grows, so will our love for our baby to come.


It has been eye opening for me to hear the stories of our journey staying so present, so relevant, in all of your lives. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for your persistence in hope. Although you feel like there is nothing you can do to make this happen for us, all you need to do is stick around a while longer, stay open to our story's development and we will all have something to celebrate soon. It means the world to have you on our side.

http://youtu.be/uYsBDmqJfjQ?t=2m50s

Week of Signs

Some weeks come and go with very little thought about our journey to adopt. Really, they do. They're an accumulation of days just living in the moment, noticing the change in seasons, engaging in fun conversations with friends out on the town, or just making a meal and enjoying music together on the back patio. Sure, thoughts of how things might be different someday with a little person demanding our attention do come up, but they are put aside effortlessly.

Some weeks are all-consumed by our own impatience with the situation. Every trip to the store, commute to work,  or evening tooth brushing session reminds us in some way that we are still a family of two (+ chickens). Those are excruciating to endure. Luckily by now, I have enough experience in The Wait to know that time will pass and we will again get back to effortlessly living in the now.

As much fun as the first type of passed time is for me, I have to say that my favorite periods of The Wait are those in which we're not the ones bringing up our plan, but other signs creep in to keep it in the forefront of our minds. These weeks of signs plant fleeting thoughts that this is really going to happen for us. During these times, we're living in the now, and the now includes positive reminders that we're going to be placed with a baby someday.

When visiting with our friends last weekend, we learned that another couple they know were just matched with a birth mother and will be picking up their baby today! We don't know these people, but I can certainly relate to, and share in, their joy. Later that afternoon, a story on the radio highlighted a woman who was placing her baby with her sister to adopt. Yesterday, one of the other waiting moms in our group emailed me to say that she was checking in because she just felt there was some activity with birth mothers working with our agency and she had a feeling someone would be getting a call soon.

Sometimes, it just seems the subject of adoption is all around us whether we want to focus on it or not. These little tales and dreams of adoption working out attach themselves to our story so far and begin to paint a different, more hopeful and imminently promising picture.

Tonight, my Colorado mom and I have tickets to see Lori Lavender Luz speak as part of the Listen to Your Mother series. Lori has written a book and blogs about open adoption. Also in the audience will be a friend of a friend who I've never met in person. She and her husband also adopted and she provided tremendous support to us during our California "vacation" last summer (start with this post and go backwards if you would like to catch up). It feels fitting to finally get to put a face to the friendly emails we've received from her during this week of signs.

We certainly have no way of knowing if this week's signs will amount to anything. They haven't in our past. However, emotions during the experience of The Wait are important to recognize. Living in the moment with reminders popping up every now and then about what might be creates an optimism that is absent sometimes. When it's present, all things seem possible.

Reflections of a Wish List on May Day

Another anniversary has come to pass. One year ago today, we met with the agency to complete the process of training, paperwork and background checks. The last step was to answer pages of questions that amounted to our "wish list" about the baby we wanted to welcome home.

It's funny how time and experience change a person's perspective. Before that meeting, we tried to anticipate the questions. We discussed things like how comfortable we would be with drug exposure in the womb, how much the mother drank or smoked while she was pregnant, what level of financial support we could provide her, and the ethnicity of the baby.

In the meeting, each of those questions was broken down into as many categories as there are types of cereal in a U.S. grocery store. We were not prepared for the degree to which our preferences could be dissected. We spent the long drive home rethinking our responses and emailed updates to the agency a few days later, then again a few months after that, continuing to question our thoughts and feelings on different topics. It carried the weight of an anvil bearing down on us. With every "yes" or "no", we felt that we were directing the fate of who would find us. What amazing life experience were we eliminating with a "no" to a potential illness in the baby's background? If we said "yes" to certain characteristics, was it a guarantee that our baby would have them?

Now that the recent year has passed, we know some of those answers might still set up the plot of our tale, but we also know that our story will not be written by the responses to questions about our preferences, but by something completely out of our control. Answering those questions in a particular way does not dictate who walks through the agency's door. When a woman brings her own unique story to our agency, there are always decisions to make about our comfort levels on various topics, all while the potential placement of a baby is staring us in the face. Making these decisions while wrapped up in the emotionally charged hope of being matched can be nearly impossible, but it remains important to consider things carefully. After all, it isn't wise to quit your job after buying a lottery ticket. You need all of your numbers to match the ones pulled in the drawing to achieve success. At this point, the only remaining wish on our list is for a speedy, successful placement.

I recently learned about one May Day tradition from two good friends. They both grew up placing a May Basket of treats and flowers on the porches of their friends' houses, knocked on the door and ran. Hmm, could it be that we'll receive a very special May Day Basket of surprising news today, one year after our Wait officially began? Of course it could.

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P.S. On another note...Yes, it is snowing here, AGAIN, four supposedly springtime weeks in a row. Whether it is a beautiful snow globe storm or not, we're ready for the flowers to bloom. It seems there is very little that gets more stale (see various posts about The Wait) than the persistence of winter when the flowering buds are forming anxiously on the trees, trying to break through to brighten things a bit.