Still Deciding

I'm still trying to decide how I feel about the future of my blogging endeavors. If I am going to do it, then I want to give it the time, effort, planning and vision that goes into any meaningful media. And I haven't quite nailed down whether it is worth it. Or if I even have anything unique to contribute to the blogging community. Hmm ... who knows.

BUT --
All of this reflection has made me think a lot about what blogs/blogging has meant to me, and I found myself surprisingly thankful. When it comes to forms of expression and media, I am admittedly biased towards books. God himself is on my side ... when he wanted to communicate truth to his people, we got a book (the Bible, in case anyone was confused). And I still love books ... ardently. But blogs have found a place in my life, and, interestingly, in my heart.

Here's why.
1. Because, when I found out that I was very unexpectedly pregnant, I hated the idea of becoming a mom. Obviously, this was something that I would have to get over. My mommyhood-hating remedy? Mom blogs. There was one particular blogger that made motherhood sound like the greatest adventure, and it gave me just an inkling of hope that my life wasn't ruined. And the more blogs I read, the more I believed that maybe being a mother could end up being one of the great joys of my life. And blogs continue to inspire my parenting, to imbue me with creativity and to encourage me in exhaustion. I often find myself thinking "you too?" while reading mommy blogs ... and that solidarity (even with people I've never met) has been indescribably life-giving.
2. Since our budget requires eating at home most nights, I have had to start cooking/meal planning. I don't know how anyone did this before the Internet, but blogs are the reason that we survive on home-cooked meals. When we first got married, Josh ate a lot of tacos and I ate a lot of frozen Trader Joe's entrees. Enter aforementioned baby (and all her expenses) ... now we eat so well at home! We eat a minimally-processed, mostly organic diet -- with A LOT of variety. If eating at home meant casseroles every night, we would've given up months ago. But blogs have given us so many wonderful meals! And I have found online cohorts for my baking addiction; though not good for the budget, baking is always so fun for me!
3. Because blogging about Phoenix's birth/NICU stay was not only informative for all the wonderful people who were praying for us, but it was hugely therapeutic for me. It gave me a recurring reason to sort through my experiences and feelings, and it gave me a taste of leading through personal hardship.
4. Because it is a fun window into other people's worlds! Granted, it is largely the good stuff -  in other words, fashion bloggers don't take pictures in their jammies. Even though it is edited, I love to see the creativity, self-expression, intentionality, devotion and love that exist in the lives of other people. Maybe that makes me a creeper ... or maybe just a people-appreciator.
5. Reading blogs inevitably leads me to wonderful little corners of the internet where I learn new things. I come out of such corners with a new favorite quote or artist, a new word or paradigm, a new craft or new style strategy (anyone else notice that the front-tuck is making a comeback?), a tattoo idea or verse to memorize. And the summation of those little thought-trinkets ends up being a meaningful contribution to my life.

So no matter what decision lies on the horizon for my personal blog, I will always be thankful for blogging!

Our Last Adoption Class

Josh and I are officially done with our adoption classes -- woohoo for milestones!

On 8/20, our last class was about infant care. Admittedly, I was annoyed that we had to go to this class ... seeing as we are not strangers to caring for an infant. It was actually helpful, though; Phoenix isn't a little baby anymore, so it was nice to have a little refresher on the things that lie ahead for us. And I forgot how much Phoenix's NICU stayed changed our newborn parenting experience. I never had to take care of an umbilical cord, for example. And she was already on schedule of sorts when she came home. So there is new and exciting territory for us to explore ... and it gave me the new-mommy-scared-to-death feelings that I described HERE. And I can't wait to be in over my head with another baby!

I have had lots of questions about our timeline, so I will let you know our best guess.
This Friday (8/31), Josh and I start the homestudy process with our first joint interview. After that, we each have individual interviews and then a home visit. The timing of that totally depends on our timeliness in filling out paperwork and the availability of our social worker. Most likely, it will be around mid-October when we are done with all of that. After all our documents are submitted, our social worker has 45 days to write up our official home study. During that 45 days, my free time will be devoted to making our profile book. After our homestudy is officially complete, our profile can be shown to birthmoms (probably early December)! And the waiting officially begins ... though my heart would argue the waiting began years ago.

The average wait? 9 months. So if everything about our adoption is perfectly average, we are looking at a placement about a year from now. Though it could be much sooner (at the VERY EXTREME earliest, December), or much later.

So here's how you can pray for us in the coming weeks:
1. We have a LOT of paperwork to fill out. Every detail of our lives (childhood, mental and physical health, finances, marriage, etc) gets put down on paper. Pray diligence and endurance for us, and that we would find the right words to describe ourselves, our family, what we believe, what we want to pursue, and how we parent.
2. When we have our homevisit, we owe Bethany $1,500 for the homestudy and $2,000 for "networking fees" (meaning we pay them in advance to find a birthmother for us). We are saving for the homestudy cost, but will be asking for help with the networking fees. More on that in the future. But just pray God's provision for us!

Love you all!

Birth Mother Panel

I would like to begin this post with a public service announcement: I LOVE BETHANY CHRISTIAN SERVICES. That is all. (No, they didn't pay me to say that. I wish ...)

The reason we love Bethany so much? The adoption classes that we're taking are mind-blowingly awesome. When we left on Monday night, Josh and I agreed that everyone should attend theseclasses. I am conscious of how my world view is expanding and deepening, and we are growing in compassion, empathy, passion, excitement, and awareness.

This week the class was a panel of birthmothers ... four women who had made adoption plans and trusted their child with another family. I have never sat in the company of more courageous people in my life. For whatever reason, birthmothers are stereotyped as teenage drug-addicts who give their children up for adoption out of selfish motivation. But, while I'm sure the occasional birthmom fits that bill, these women blew up any of those preconceived notions. Each of them made an adoption plan precisely because of their parental love, knowing that they couldn't provide appropriately for their child (because of lacking finances, maturity, father figure, etc).

Three of the four ladies had their moms sitting beside them, and that was hands-down the coolest part of the experience. Obviously, none of those mothers were thrilled to find out that their daughters were pregnant -- one admitted to feeling angry and ashamed. But each of them had such a profound respect for their daughter's courageous decision to make an adoption plan ... you could hear it in their words and see it in their eyes. One of the girls hid her pregnancy from her mom until 9 days before the birth, because she knew her mom would encourage an abortion. That mother, with tears in her eyes, said "Noah is alive because of my daughter." I pray that Phoenix will surpass me in faithfulness, courage and obedience ... that she will continue to teach me about God like these women inspired their moms (though, admittedly, I hope there is no teenage pregnancy involved).

We also peeked into the window of their grief, and it was overwhelming. As a mother, I can't imagine the immense hurt and healing involved in making an adoption plan. Interestingly, though, our journey with Phoenix gives me an ounce of understanding and empathy that I would otherwise have missed. For example, one of the girls was talking about being in birthing room at the hospital without a baby. I do know what that feels like. I teared up when while she spoke, because I vividly remember laying in my bed (when I first came home from the hospital) and realizing that I left without my baby. She also mentioned being surrounded by other women receiving balloons and congratulations, when she was in the midst of grief. Yup, I've been there too. It was days after Phoenix's birth before anyone said congratulations to us (I don't blame anyone, because it would have been inappropriate to congratulate me on the trauma we were navigating), and it was unbearably hard to see happy mothers and babies. And, let's be honest, I know what it feels like to get pregnant when that's the last thing you want. Like I said, I still can't imagine what it's like to live where these women do -- but I have at least set foot on the property of their pain. Hopefully, the suffering that Josh and I experience will translate into an appropriate compassion for our child's birthmother.

Apparently it is typical for this particular class to be moving ...  our social worker told us to intentionally remember everything we were feeling. Because, at some point, it is easy to see the birthmother as a "threat" of sorts when she wants information/communication.
Pray that God burns this class on our hearts and minds, so that we can be sensitive, confident and excited about whatever level of openness our birthmother desires.
We are both so thankful that God is taking us on this journey, and for the many ways he has already begun to prepare us!

Ode to Our Village

Phoenix turned one just over a week ago. Crazy.
A year ago, we didn't know if she would ever see her birthday.
But, thanks to the kindness of God and the extravagant love of His people, she made it. Big, beautiful and happy.

It is not lost on me that all three of us only survived because of the massive support from the people around us. There is nothing that I can do to repay you all ... all I can do is say thank you.

Thank you for praying. For wearing out your knees on behalf of our tiny girl and our broken hearts. Thank you for the tears shed in intercession, and (to many of you) for vocalizing your prayers to us with such faith.
Thank you for all the wonderful gifts that you gave to Josh and I while we were in the hospital. Sweat pants, snacks, Starbucks, cotton candy ice cream, coloring books, clean clothes, meals for my man, chocolate, flowers ... shoot, some of everything. We were so well cared for in those couple days.
Thank you for rushing to support us -- whether that meant a hospital visit, a card, or a Facebook message, it was a treasure to know how much you all cared. 
Thank you for all the ways that you helped us financially -- gas and restaurant cards, cash, gifts, etc. Josh and I didn't worry about money once during her hospital stay, which blows my mind in retrospect. Thank you for freeing up our mental/emotional energy so we could worry about the one thing that mattered.
Thank you for putting us on a mat (metaphorically, of course), and carrying us to Jesus. So much of my faith during those days was borrowed -- thank you for sharing.
Thank you for covering the shifts that I missed during my hospital stay and recovery, and for picking up my slack at work when my mind was in the NICU.
Thank you for the hugs ... all of them.
Thank you for the beautiful pictures - few things have been so profoundly dear to me.
Thank you for giving us space when we needed it.
Thank you for letting our circumstances commandeer our relationships for a while. I am so sorry for missed birthdays, milestones and thank-you cards. We were probably very self-centered in conversation, and thank you for giving us so much love and grace for that.
Thank you for cleaning our house. No really ... THANK YOU.
Thank you for letting us process our pain in our time/way.
Thank you for hauling your pregnant self (and three children) to the hospital so that I could see my fragile bird for a bit. For everyone who drove me around in the early days, thank you!
Thank you for helping us to laugh. We treasure the weightless moments, when you freed us from the pain with a smile.
Thank you for the comments on my blog posts. For whatever reason, they meant SO much to me.
Thank you for enduring with us. It was a long journey, and the support never let up.
Thank you for making the "stuck-by-the-oxygen-tank" days bearable with meals, visits, and Netflix suggestions.
Thank you for loving my girl so well. Everyone who saw her, touched her or held her in those first months did so with marked tenderness. I am tearing up just thinking about it ...
A special thank you to the staff at the hospital (though I am sure they will never read this). You fought for my sweet baby's life, loved her when we couldn't be there, and put up with my all my crazy. You deserve an award.
And thank you for all the unmentioned gifts of love you gave to us. 

They say it takes a village to raise a child ... and for us, it took a village just to make it one year. Whether you know it or not, you were the kindness of God revealed to us. We are forever grateful.

March for Babies

This Saturday was the March for Babies, a fundraising walk hosted by March of Dimes.

It was amazing.
I couldn't help but get involved in raising funds for an organization that champions the cause of tiny preemies like mine, but it ended up being a huge blessing to me.

A few minutes before the walk started, Josh and I were sitting on the sidewalk in the shade while Phoenix napped in her stroller. A beautiful little girl with curly blond hair walked up to the stroller, curious to see the baby inside. Her dad gently nudged her away, but I assured him that she was welcome to peek at my girl. I asked if this little beauty had been premature, and he said "Yes. She and her twin were born at 29 weeks."
"Mine was a preemie too! She was 28 weeks ..."
It was amazing how quickly you connect with someone on a heart level with that kind of a shared experience. We only chatted for 2 or 3 minutes, mostly about how chunky Phoenix is and how desperately they fight to get their 2-year-old twins to gain weight. But, to me, there was this depth to the conversation that an onlooker wouldn't see ... an undercurrent of "you understand."
A couple of other family members wandered over to admire my girl, and one remarked on how she is a miracle. Hundreds of people have called her that before, but he said it differently. The word, miracle, was colored with experience -- a man who had witnessed the divine before was seeing it again in our girl.

There are few times in my life that my heart has felt so full.
It was amazing to see the way that friends and families rallied to support the babies they love so dearly. There were groupings everywhere of people wearing matching t-shirts boasting pictures of little babies in isolettes, fighting for life. And it was heartbreaking to see the number of shirts that said "Walking in memory of ..."
Sometimes I forget that not every mommy goes home with her preemie. I was in tears as the walk began, feeling infinitely blessed to be pushing a stroller with a healthy baby, surrounded by people who understand our fight and triumph.

 It was a beautiful day to be walking with my two loves, and Josh made it extra fun by weaving in and out of all the slow walkers. We walked the 4 miles in under 40 minutes ... not too shabby.

Here are some more pictures from the day:

You guessed it ... she is wearing my t-shirt as pants.

Thank you so much to the grandparents, the Silvas, Joel & Sandra, and the O'Mara's for donating!
This will definitely be an annual event for our little family!