I took a back-to-school break from blogging, but had no intentions of not writing for so long. This fall has been very interesting with lots of changes at work and a lot of long days. As I might have mentioned way back in AUGUST (egads!), both Jake and I have new administrators at work, and anytime that happens, you can expect a season of change and adjustment as leadership norms as expectations are different. My school had, unfortunately, taken a negative turn and made a D on our school report card, and although I personally had good scores and good growth in my students, there were still LOTS of new expectations, a new room, a new schedule, new teammates, and new work to be done. Makinzy played two sports this fall, AND has joined the band (playing flute like Mama did!) and is doing the Junior League Cotillon (much needed - she is learning so much… we wanted her to learn how to socialize with boys with class and tact, and this has been a HUGE help. Crushes on boys aren’t inherently bad for a 6th grade girl, but how dramatic she is and the choices she makes in how she expresses that can be… but, mom digresses...). So many extra things on our plate this fall! Plus what crazy weather! I hate to “blog about the weather” but it’s been an integral part of the stress of the season. The flooding and fear from Hurricane Matthew (and worrying over my coastal friends), then the extreme months-long drought (what even is rain!?) and the heartbreaking wildfires in the mountains I adore - Lake Lure, Blowing Rock, South Mountain, and now, Gatlinburg. Places I know and love! So… yeah, a difficult fall indeed.
Not to mentions the one thing everyone asks me about the most… the waiting. Y’all. I don’t know why I expected this not to be difficult. I mean, everything we do regarding having children is difficult. I said, “Oh, I’m not worried about the wait!” and legitamitely thought it would be a few months and we’d have some “hits” and it would just work out. And now it’s almost Christmas. After my last (and let’s hope, final) miscarriage last November, I was truly miserable. I almost considered going back to our grief therapist (no shame - #mentalhealthmatters #endthestigma) but I knew I was just realistically and rationally sad about the idea of losing the hope and possibility of carrying and birthing a child, not clinically depressed. I was just too sad to enjoy Christmas, and the new year brought the hope of a second adoption. We resolved to jump in full force. And I actually thought I would have a baby home in my arms at Christmas. A little chubby cheek to kiss. Oh, I can’t go imagining too much or I cry. I never thought I’d still be feeling so empty and incomplete at Christmastime. I have people daily ask, “Hey, where’s that baby?” or “Still no baby?” and I literally have to control my hands to keep from lunging at their throat. I mean, uh duh, he or she would be in my arms. We’d be at home, skin to skin, bonding. Bye, girl, bye. I know they mean nothing by it, but I still feel such things, every single time.
A notification from our adoption agency did finally come right before Thanksgiving, but it didn’t work out. It was for a baby in a situation that just wouldn’t have fit. Not that we were being “picky.” I can’t go into much detail, but let’s just say her extensive needs were more than we could financially and emotionally bear, considering the amount of money we earn, our previous losses and own emotional baggage, and keeping in mind Makinzy’s needs too. Saying “no” was so very hard. I wanted to hear God say “YES! THIS IS IT!” and feel the thump on my heart, the almost-audible voice, the same as I did when I heard about Mak… but I didn’t. So I do feel peace that we were being obedient to God’s direction… but it still hurts to say no to this precious child. And so, back to waiting… STILL.
A friend I have (we met a wedding a year ago) is has written a book (to be released TOMORROW 12/2!) called SanctiFly Chicks, and her faith-inspired posts online have been super inspirational to me. Recently, she asked if she could feature my testimony on her page as she has been profiling “SanctiFly Chicks” on her page. I was honored to be asked to share, and the feedback has been overwhelmingly uplifting. I have to constantly remind myself that God is weaving the tapestry that tells the story of my life… and this waiting… and the last five years of joy and heartbreak are part of that. I cannot dictate God’s plan for me. And right now, His plan is to wait. My one hope for the end of my life is that people will say I lived a life that pointed to Him. That He was the source of my strength in my trials, the One who received the glory of my blessings, and the one who I obeyed even in hard times.
So we wait. With expectation. With pain. With joy. With open hearts to share our story.