Learning To Ask The Right Questions

Anyone who knows us well knows that we have a lot going on in our lives right now. Since this blog is public to all the "interwebs" I won't go into great detail. Sam and I are fine, and will continue to be fine, but much of what we are dealing with is very unplanned and often difficult. I wish I could say that we had just one event or situation to contend with, but unfortunately the past few months have turned out to be a really stormy season with no sign of letting up.

Sometimes I wish that God would just hand me a road map of how to navigate this season in my life. A list of easy directions, turns to take, places to avoid, and people to trust. A way to get out of the weather. But that's just not how life or God works. The more time I spend in the desert and valleys, the more I realize that its not easy and rarely comfortable but is as much of a place where God works as any.

I was watching the Today Show this morning and they had on the families of the two girls who's identities were confused after a horrible college van accident. This tragedy occurred a few years ago, but for several weeks one family nursed the other family's daughter unknowingly. After a substantial amount of time had passed, the two families found out that their daughter's identities had been confused. The family who thought their daughter had survived found out she was dead and the family who had buried their daughter found out she was alive. I cannot imagine the unbelievable pain for one family and the relief for the other.

Long story short, both families sat together and talked about how this event had (obviously) changed their lives. Both families discussed their deep faith in Christ and how He sustained them throughout the grief. The thing that struck me about this particular interview was something that the dad who found out his daughter had died said near the end their time. He said, (and I am paraphrasing here) 'Instead of asking why, I began to ask, why not me? Why not us?'

I think this grieving father's question is an important one, albeit amazing to hear from the mouth of a man suffering great loss. I don't believe that God showers down trials, hardships, or heartaches to punish us. I don't think God allowed me to be infertile to cause me pain. I don't think he was punishing this family by taking away their daughter. So if I take that one step further, then I have to ask, just like this father has, why not me? Why should I be off limits to suffering?

Going through hardships brings about a lot of questions. I don't believe asking why me is necessarily a bad question. Goodness knows I've asked it thousands of times. And I don't think processing through various other not so pretty emotions is wrong either. Been there as well. The God I serve is a BIG and can handle both my questions and emotions. But I think I am coming to see that it is not so much about not asking the wrong questions and learning to ask and focus on the right ones.

Why not me?
What will God teach me through this?
How can I seek God in the middle this storm?

Two Amazing Articles

I came across both of these articles today and found them both profound and insightful. Maybe it has something to do with today being Mother's Day and all but I wanted to pass them on.

The first is by Nia Vardolos, the actress and writer of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. She struggled with infertility for a long time and recently adopted a little girl with her husband from the foster care system. As I have struggled through my emotions surrounding this holiday, her words were like a salve to my soul helping me to remember that others have walked this path before me.

If You Don't Have Anything Nice To Say...

The other article is from the New York Times a couple of days ago. It was written by a birth mother who placed their child through an open adoption 10 years ago. As we continue to wait and pray for our birth mother, it was a good reminder for myself and everyone that adoption is never a simple equation. But out of the pain, beautiful relationships, real life and the chance to love fully can emerge.

Open Adoption: Not So Simple Math

Both of these articles remind me of both the heartache and joy that accompany our infertility/adoption journey, no matter what step we are on, even when we don't know how our story ends.

So with that I wish you all (all three of you who read this...) a very happy Mother's Day.

National Infertility Awareness Week

I happened to run across this video this week as it is National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW). One of the BIG infertility bloggers is organizing something called the "What If" Project encouraging others to speak up about the emotional struggles that dealing with infertility brings.

A blogger participating in this project took the idea a step further and made a pretty amazing video. Its moving to say the least and provides a ton of insight to some of the "what if" questions infertile couples deal with. Here's the link:

What If? By Keiko Zoll

(just a heads up, the motion in the video is a little jerky, but so worth it)

Learning to Live with Loss

As I mentioned before I have found a good amount of solace in reading other people's blogs. A good friend of mind pointed me towards one of her friends blog's not too long ago. This blogger has had a horribly rough year including a heartbreaking loss that I cannot even fathom. Even still her writing about her faith is amazing. Her trust in Christ so complete even though she is grieving.

Through reading a handful of her entries and in processing my own stuff relating to our infertility/adoption/loss, I realize that often I play the "it could be worse" card. It goes like this, our situation could be worse at least _____ didn't happen, or how can I be struggling, look at what so-and-so is dealing with. While its true, my "stuff" could be worse, its not right to discount the fact that the past 4 years have not been a cake walk by any stretch of the imagination.

Pain is pain; regardless of our human-made hierarchy of loss, regardless of what others are going through. Infertility, I think, is a special type of pain that is often hidden, swept under the rug, not acknowledged. I often wonder if this is because it is somewhat invisible. Maybe it is because no one really knows what to say, or because it is so personal. Whatever the reason is it is often a much quieter grief. I mean essentially we are mourning children that do not exist.

Somehow through all of the failed cycles, through the trials, through the years of waiting, through the pain, and the glimpses of joy, I'm learning that it is okay to not be okay. I obviously have a lot to be thankful for and I am, a God who would send his son to die for me, a wonderful supportive husband, a great family, our sweet dog, and so much more.

Its not that I want to wallow in what I do not have or in the obvious ache of what I long for, but I am still aware that something is very much absent from this picture. I am learning how to be present in this season that God has obviously called me to. My hope is that I will learn how to truly submit my all heart to God in this time and learn to live right where He has me at this moment, really live.

Still I have a great deal of hope for life the other side of this desert. If I really look hard enough I can almost see the promised land, but it feels like it is a long ways off. Some days it even feels like a mirage, a dream. I know it is there, but I have to make it through this journey first. I have to learn how to patiently sit at the feet of my Father and find contentment in His love first, even if this means I have to rest in the desert of all places.

One of my all time favorite verses right now is from Isaiah 42:16. God promises to "...lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them."

Even in the darkest roughest places God is there. He can see the way, even when I cannot. He knows what is coming and where He is taking me. And while He is leading me; blind, anxious, stumbling me, He will make the darkness turn to light. I cannot wait to see the sun rise over this journey.

So Much To Say...

Before you get too excited about the title of this post let me start off by saying that we have no new news about our adoption. Believe me you will all know when we know something. I won't be able to keep quite. The end of March marks 6 months of waiting for a match. We continue to pray for our birth family whoever and wherever they may be, especially the birth mom. Waiting has not been easy by any means but we know that this waiting serves a purpose, bringing us one day closer to our child.

Now back to today's title. I've had several blog post swirling about in my head. Surprising as that is because I am not close to being a prolific poster, I've just been unsure about how my thoughts, feelings and perspectives would be received. As we've struggled to start a family over the past 4 years (yes, yet another unwelcome milestone firmly situated in March) I have only shared my truest struggles with a few close friends. This is not because I didn't trust others, but mostly because some of the things that I've experienced and needed to process have been messy and hard to explain.

But as we continue this (endless?) journey I have started to realize that maybe it would be beneficial to get it all out there. Ironically, one thing that has kept me sane, or as close to sane as possible, is reading other people's blogs. Now I'm not exactly talking about my friends blogs, although I love keeping up on their lives that way as well. But those people's blogs who have experience with building their families despite infertility.

Hearing other women's stories about infertility treatments, adopting, and how they have survived has provided me with the sense that I am not alone. These women are usually complete strangers, but we share something so heartbreaking, so defining, that I cannot help but to feel bonded with their journey. Call me crazy, but this has been one time where I am thankful for the vastness of the internet and for these brave women who have not only gone before me but shared their pain in a real and honest way with strangers.

What I'm fumbling around saying is that for a while I need to post about our journey, our struggle, and our pain. It may not be fun to read and please if it is not what you want to hear about, that's okay. In writing our story I may write somethings that could seem like I am bitter at the world, or that I am not happy for my friends how have had an easy journey to parenthood. Its not that at all.

Honestly, I rejoice that most of my friends have not had to deal with the things that we have. I wouldn't wish this journey on anyone, even those I don't like. I am grateful when things go as planned, when pregnancies are easily achieved and maintained. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't sting to hear about how so and so got pregnant their first month of trying.

So there it is. I need to be more honest about this trek towards what we thought would be an easy addition. I hope that I am able to communicate clearly and that maybe someone out there in blogland will identify with what I'm saying. If not maybe it will just be an opportunity for me to learn how to be unashamed of my emotions, to learn be more honest with myself and open with those who I am in relationships with.

How is the adoption going?

I am ready to be done waiting. I know that is not the right thing to say but it is true.

We are both doers. There is not a fiber of either one of our beings that feels comfortable with sitting by and waiting.

I think the hardest thing for me (sam) is that this is what we are called to do in this moment: to sit, trust and wait. I can't help, add more and calling the agency doesn't further the cause in any way. So I work at not thinking of the wait, and being sensitive to hearing what it is that God would have us do, or not do.

This is a common lesson that is hard to hear every time but true every time that I need to do a better job of living today and not always looking forward to tomorrow. Tomorrow will come and there is nothing that I can worry about today that will help bring it any sooner.

So with nothing else to do but wait, that is what we will do with continued faith that God knows what we need better than we do.