What a difference a year makes...

... Or does it? ;-)

So I was sitting on my couch, enjoying the light of the Christmas tree, when it occurred to me that I remembered sitting on my couch this same time last year, looking at my Christmas tree and blogging about adoption.  So, I went back and read that post.  That was a hard night. That was a hard few months.  That was a hard year.  You know how you go through times of intense stress and when you are through it and look back, you wonder, "How in the WORLD did I get through that? It was AWFUL!"  Well, last year was full of incredible stresses, and I'm not sure how I got through some of it... I think I was just barely surviving emotionally and physically, and the Lord was just tenderly carrying me through the haze... Covering me, shielding me, allowing me to feel some of the elements but not letting me completely break apart...  Most of my trials were very private, and the rest of the world was oblivious to them, but let's just say they were a mixture of problems that most everyone experiences at some point related to: marriage, finances, job uncertainty, parenting, family relationships, church issues, health problems, and of course ADOPTION grief.  I guess not everybody experiences adoption grief, but they probably have experienced everything else on that list, right?

The fact is, adoption grief is pretty much always that one final thing that threatens to topple everything else over into a total pile of disaster.  You know what I'm getting at... You've been there. There are all of life's little (or big) stresses and we go from here to there putting out fires and problem solving and just living life in the moment doing the best that we can with what we have.  Then BAM! A trigger. It may be an innocent comment, a malicious remark, being introduced to someone with the same name as the person you've lost, a photo, an article, a program on tv, a smell...  And it takes you back to the reality of the grief that you hide from everyone else, every day, in the most secret place of your heart.

I've learned that the loss of my first daughter is something that is so big, so painful, so out of this world unnatural to my "mother's heart" that if I stare at it square in the face, I am so overcome with debilitating grief that I'm down for the count. My house goes to pot, it saps my physical energy and I start to feel very sick and lethargic, I have weird, unexplainable pains, I am not as patient with my kids or my husband, and I withdraw from the good and healthy things in my life.  I cancel plans with good friends. I'm bad at returning emails or phone calls.  I miss regularly scheduled commitments like Bible study, homeschool co-op or choir practice.  I procrastinate with bill paying. :( I eat what is easier rather than what is healthier. In other words, it is VERY unhealthy for not only me, but everyone else who depends on me if I try to face the behemoth adoption, it's stereotypes, myths and misdeeds.  Do you know how utterly exhausting it is to be in an environment (the community of other Christians) where the most horrible way you have been wronged in your LIFE is something that everyone else sees as wonderful?  Oh my goodness, I would rather have someone stomp on an ingrown toenail repeatedly than try to fight that uphill battle on a regular basis. It would definitely be less painful! LOL

And so I just continue to lay it on my God, and He knows why.  He is glad to take it for me now.  He does not wonder what He is doing with it or how it will all turn out or if it there will be good years ahead.  He is perfectly working His will in this horrible fallen situation, and I feel pretty confident that He will redeem it all somehow, in a way that is too precious and priceless for me to know at present, even if I will not know it this side of heaven.  But you see, I am too small and too weak to bear those unknowns by myself, so I say to Him with the Psalmist,

"What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee...Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book? When I cry unto thee, then shall mine enemies turn back: this I know; for God is for me... In God have I put my trust: I will not be afraid what man can do unto me."

I was speaking with my mom about the peaceful state that this leaning upon the Lord brings...  We were discussing how to some it may seem like apathy, but in reality, we know the deep, secret sorrows of our hearts and how we could be anything but apathetic toward something that strides alongside us day in and day out - invisible to others, yet staring us in the face - as we put on our smiles for the rest of the world.  No, it is not apathy.  It is the Lord's kindness to me that He will invite me to lay my burden on Him and "long to be gracious to me... rise to show me compassion..."  

I think about my daughter every.single.day.  I miss her.  No, I ache for her.  I love her.  I pray for her.  I wonder about her.  I have many questions.  I may never even know her name.  But I am getting along alright and cherishing the loved ones that are here in front of me.  I'm lovin' on the two precious girls I have and trying to learn to be a better wife, mom and friend.  I am chomping at the bit for the day that I might have the privilege of knowing my first daughter... even just knowing SOMETHING about her...  I can't really even imagine the emotions I would feel if that were possible.  I might have a stroke! LOL But at least I'd die happy, right? ;-)

It is interesting that I can still feel exactly the same way that I did a year ago but cope with it completely differently.  I still think there is far more pain in adoption than there is joy or healing.  I can barely tolerate what I know about how adoption done big is marketed and twisted and manipulated into looking nothing like a ministry. And I'm REALLY weary of hearing all the ridiculous stereotypes.  But you know, I can't do a whole lot to fight it when I've got the rest of life's challenges on my shoulders every day... We can all think of a few, right?  Lots of bills and a little bit of money, a family relationship strained, a mountain of dishes or laundry, a houseful of puking kids, a broken down car or a back thrown out ... Or maybe something much more difficult to knock the wind out of you, like a longterm illness or the death of a loved one? Everyone has something that they carry with them. Everyone has SOMETHING or somethings that try to creep in and rule their life because they are just so big and well, so PAINFUL.  Everybody has a story.

For me, life doesn't stop for the things I cannot change. (Oh how I wish it would sometimes!)  But I don't have to let it eat at me until I am wasting away.  I think deeper times of grieving are inevitable.  We are human.  They ebb and flow.  But  I am living "In His easy yoke..." and that is the perfect and best place to be if I am "weary and heavy-laden".  So to everyone who would suggest to me or any other mother who has lost a child to adoption that they hope I can find some peace in my life... I have for the moment.  It's just not the kind of peace you were wishing for me.  It is not the kind of peace that is happy or content or even resigned to  being separated from my child.  It's the kind of peace that is a tender, mysterious gift to me from a God who condescended to be a "man of sorrows", who pities my suffering, and who has lovingly borne it all so that I don't have to.

Picking up with the story... Separated and lonely

Disclaimer: This is a bit of a somber post, so if you are looking for something lighthearted or funny, you may want to check back another day... :-)  That being said...

Being pregnant and knowing you are going to relinquish your child turns your due date into something akin to knowing the exact day that someone you love is going to die.  Well, that is what it was like for me, at least. 

It is a strange and sickening feeling.  You are moving forward, heels dug in, fingers clawing grasping for things to hold on to, toward a day that you know is going to forever change the rest of your life, and you can't do anything to stop it.  You can hope that it is a bad dream and that you are going to wake up, but you know that it's not... and you won't... and your baby IS going to be gone. Period. All you can do is try to get by one day, sometimes one hour, at a time, and try to accept what looms ahead.  A cloud of nausea just hangs over you at all times. Everything else in life just starts to not really matter very much.  All the other ridiculous things that people complain or fuss over seem so trivial. (Who the heck cares who is going to the beach for senior week?!)  It is like you are watching everyone else live their life in realtime, but your own life is in slow motion. You begin to grieve and waste away before the loss is actually experienced.

I journaled a lot to sort through my emotions while I waited for Ellen to arrive.  Those journals are dark and deep. When I read the journal entries, letters and poems I wrote, I wish I could travel back and visit the 17-year-old girl who wrote them and encourage her with what I now know having lived a few more years. Of course, we all have those moments of looking back and wishing we could advise our younger selves. :) The biggest thing that stands out to me is how incredibly LONELY I was. I had no friends or family around me. No one to lounge on the couch with and talk into the night about what was happening... the present or the future. No one to cry with, to be silly or relax with, to watch a movie and escape reality for a couple hours... No, it was the shepherding home and me.  My SW and me.  I saw my parents, brother and sister, three times,I think during my entire pregnancy. I had a good friend from high school drive the hundred miles with my dad once to spend the afternoon with me.  I remember she and I drove to a field at a nearby park and just sat on the hood of the car and talked and talked and talked. She was not the sort that I would take advice from, but I remember her sitting there tearing up leaves as we chatted, offering a listening ear and understanding that I was at the mercy of all the adults in my life.  She was just there to BE THERE with me in the moment... To sit on the hood of the car and tear up leaves... It is amazing how vividly I remember that and how much that simple act meant to me.

I don't think shepherding homes are necessarily a bad thing all around.  I know there are tons of women who find themselves without a place to live once they divulge to their family that they are pregnant.  It is sad but true. Shepherding homes can be a lifesaver in that regard.  And I think that there are a lot of wonderful families opening their homes in this capacity.  But for me, I went there to "be away from influences". I've talked about that before, and I don't want to stir up too much because I know my family is reading.  But the point is that as I look back on what was happening, I can see that there really never was any hope for me to explore any other "options".  I was 17 and a senior in high school. I had never lived apart from my parents. I was doing what high schoolers do and working at a shoe store as a sales clerk the summer I got pregnant.  I had no idea how to live in the world apart from my family.  Oh, I thought I was fierce before I got pregnant. LOL :-)  Summer was just around the corner, and I was making my measley little shoe store paycheck and spending it on clothes at The Limited or fries and cheese sticks at The Clock after school. I was laying out in the sun all day on Saturdays and pushing my curfew with girlfriends at night.  I was like most of the other girls my age who just wanted that one great guy to think I was special... I wasn't looking for trouble, but I was "looking for love (a.k.a affirmation)  in all the wrong places".  Sigh.  Enter my late-twenty-something boss at said measley little shoe store, who also doubled as youth pastor at a local church.  I had no idea just HOW BAD that combination would be. (Apparently some other young girls didn't either, but I digress...)

Looking back, I know that my parents were in total shock and in a desperate crisis situation.  I know my mother has said to me on several occasions that one of the most difficult things for her was knowing that I was going through so much but not being with me... not being able to go through it beside me.  I know she is telling me the truth.  It makes me sad for her when I identify with those maternal feelings.  But what really breaks my heart is that whoever's idea the shepherding home was... Well, I mean REALLY??  Why was that necessary?  What was the real purpose of taking me away from everything and everyone I knew?  I wasn't homeless.  I wasn't kicked out of my house.  I had a stable, Christian home environment with parents who loved me.  They were scared and uncertain of how to handle the situation. They didn't want friends influencing me.  But being taken away was just the beginning of the end.  It squashed communication and interaction with my family and friends.  It really cut the lifeline.  Remember, back then, cell phones were fairly new and were not commonplace.  (Remember the gigantic phone with the cord, mounted on the contraption next to the gear shift? LOL) There was no email.  No instant messenger.  If I wanted to talk to anybody, I had to get on the old fashioned horn (ok, not that old, wink) and call LONG DISTANCE to talk to my parents or friends.  Guess how often that happened at the shepherding home? :-(

No, the shepherding home was just that... a place to "shepherd" me toward the decision that was deemed best FOR me, not BY me.  Yes, the agency social worker was nice.  Yes, the shepherding home was beyond kind in opening up their home to me.  Undoubtedly.  But do you see?  Everyone was "ministering" to me in a way that shuffled me down the path of doing what they wanted.  It is really difficult to make any friends in a college town when you are 17 and pregnant.  Basically, you just keep to yourself as much as possible and wish you didn't have to go anywhere.  At least back home, there were people there who knew me before I was pregnant... friends who still loved me... Parents and siblings... MY FAMILY.  It was the loneliest, darkest time of my life.

I am not going to skip over my time in the hospital and the day I relinquished my daughter.  I'll write about that later.  But the separation that was established while I was gone during my pregnancy just continued right on after I came home.  Friendships had been deserted for months and months.  Nobody had seen me.  But they knew I went away to have a baby.  I was either avoided completely, or the topic was avoided completely.  I came out on the other side with a God-sized hole blown through my soul and two friends (Angeline and Anna) twins whom I had known since we were in preschool.  I was so empty and dead inside.  That was the beginning of buying into the win-win-win that was handed to me...  I was desperate to latch onto something that would bring some relief.  Without it I was losing my mind.  I had given my baby away to someone I didn't know.  It was too much to accept.  I had to pretty it up somehow or give up completely.

The main point is that pulling someone away from their support system is so detrimental.  I realize that many women don't have a support system, and a shepherding home may provide something for them.  But many women DO. They have family and friends who love them and who will love their child.  The shock of an unplanned pregnancy takes some time to adjust to.  It is so dangerous to start making decisions toward relinquishment early on before even giving anything else a chance.  I found out I was pregnant in July and was at the shepherding home a few weeks later.  I stayed away until March of the following year. :(  I really believe we would have had a much better shot as a family if we had stayed under one roof to talk it out and work it out piece by piece.  The break in communication was the first nail in my coffin.  Think about it.  When someone is depressed or in trouble, don't we tell them it is important for them not to withdraw, but rather, to stay connected to the people who love them and can offer support?  So why is it different for a young girl who is unmarried and pregnant?  Why was my family not an important resource for me? 

There are a lot of things I realize now.  I don't write any of this out of bitterness or anger.  In all honesty, I am just trying to get to the bottom of WHY these things still happen so often.  Why did it happen to me in the first place?  Why would we remove support and label it ministry?  I'm thinking through all of this.  But now I get to do it with a thirty-something heart instead of a 17-year-old heart.  I'm not too intimidated to ask the questions anymore.

While I sip my coffee...

How many of you find yourselves warming and rewarming your coffee in the microwave all morning just hoping to get a few minutes of peace to drink it?  That is very typical for me if I don't get my coffee finished before my kids wake up. :)  So, seeing that it is Saturday morning and David is working (as usual), I have banished the kids to the playroom for a few minutes so that I can have my cup of happiness. It has also been known to greatly increase my ability to remain calm and patient, and we can all only benefit from that! :)  I don't feel bad about putting them in the playroom because it is ridiculous how many toys children have these days. LOL  There is so much fun stuff in there, I don't even think they could manage to play with all of it if they had all day long.  So... they will be fine for the next few minutes until lunch. :)

I don't usually blog about things unrelated to adoption, but since I took a much-needed long "break" from adoption, some very healthy things happened that have recharged me.  I don't really expect anyone to care much about it, but my blog is partially an outlet for me to journal my thoughts, so I'm going to take a few minutes to focus on all the GOOD things that are going on right now. :)

The biggest change has been the move.  We moved 2 states away for David to start a new job.  It was unbelievable crazy trying to get here because I had too much on my plate and not enough time to get it done.  But kuddos to my sweet family for helping me in any way they could even when it was not ideal for them. xoxo  I know buying a house is usually a fairly stressful event, but let's just say my particular experience was out of this world crazy.

Nevertheless, we found a cute little house with a great fenced in grassy yard for the girls.  We were also able to find one that has a nice long, flat blacktop driveway for the girls to ride bikes/trikes, roller skate, draw with chalk, shoot baskets, etc.  It seems like a simple thing, but having a nice flat driveway makes me feel like a queen! LOL  Being at home with kids means that you must get outside frequently.  I'm so thankful we have a place to get outside. (And with it being flat, I am not constantly running after balls or children on runaway toddler tractors rolling toward the street.) :)  It will take us a while to get the inside totally painted and feeling like home, but we don't have to be in a rush.

The next encouragement came in the form of finding a church in our new town.  That can be overwhelming.  But we have found just the place we believe we are supposed to be, and it feels GREAT.  (Edited...)

Another major change for us has been the jump into homeschooling!  I NEVER in a thousand years thought I was going to homeschool.  It's true.  I was very eagerly awaiting the time when I would drop off and pick up my children from school and hear all about their day... help them with homework, and attend school events and activities.  We all know how well all our plans always come together, though, right?! :)  For a variety of reasons, some our choices and some our circumstances, we are homeschooling Susannah this year.  I started out kicking and screaming, but now I am really excited about it!  Will it be easy? No.  Will it be overwhelming at times? Yes.  But I'm on board all the way, and we have a really fun year ahead of us.  This decision was made prior to finding our new church, but oh how well it is working out!  There is quite a nice mix of kids at our church - public schooled, private schooled and homeschooled.  For those who are homeschooled, there is a support group and a co-op.  On a side note, it sounds funny to say there is a support group for the homeschoolers! LOL  Sounds like going to AA or NA or something! :)  Yes, I have met my share of odd homeschoolers, but I am glad to say I haven't met any weird ones yet in Richmond.  I'm quite sure they're here like any other place, but somehow we got connected with a really great group. :) It does not look like the cast of Little House on the Prairie when we are all together. (Wink)  Fist-bump to all the homeschoolers out there who do not fit the unpleasant stereotype! LOL

Anyhow, we are signed up for a variety of activities and field trips, and Susannah will be doing music and gymnastics through the co-op.  There are several other little girls at church starting kindergarten at home this year, too, so how fun is that? :)  There is also a Mom's Morning Out at our church every Friday that coincides with the times of a lot of the "older kid" activities, so that means that little sister can go to Mom's Morning Out while I accompany Susannah to plays and field trips that wouldn't be good for the attention span of a toddler.

I am also making girlfriends. :) That was a challenge for me in the social climate we were in back home.  I am still keeping in touch with two friends who seem to "get me", and we had a great playdate/visit the last time I made it to SC for a short stay.  (Hello Bridget and Steph!) That's one great thing about true friendships.  Distance doesn't seem to phase the relationship very much. :) Life can happen, but you just pick up where you left off when you get the chance.  I am the kind of gal who needs to get out and get movin' every day, so making girlfriends has provided lots of opportunities to do that. 

Last but not least, I got my hair chopped off into a sassy new short 'do thanks to my sister's good friend! And for me, a sassy haircut is always a pick-me-up! LOL  I feel sooooooo much better when I take care of myself and feel like a girl.  I haven't been able to do much of that in the last few months.

All in all, we are doing much better as a little family of four.  Even with David's endless work hours and job-related stress, we are happy... There is more levity in our home.  We haven't had that in quite a while.  We laugh and joke with one another.  There are more kisses, hugs, and smiles.  We are growing where we are planted, as David's Aunt Nancy says. :)

So that's what's been going on with us. :) My life isn't ALL adoption ALL the time.  It is always in my mind, but I have innumerable blessings on a daily basis... And I like to talk about those, too. :)

Praise to the Lord, who o’er all things so wondrously reigneth,
Shelters thee under His wings, yea, so gently sustaineth!
Hast thou not seen how thy desires e’er have been
Granted in what He ordaineth?


Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work and defend thee;
Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee;
Ponder anew what the Almighty can do,
If with His love He befriend thee.

(Praise to the Lord, The Almighty... Neander, 1680)

Back in the Saddle

Well, I have taken a much-needed hiatus from blogging and blog reading.  A lot of life has gone on in the last few months, but the break sure felt good. :)  My husband got a new job, we bought a house, moved to another state, searched for and found a wonderful new church, and now we are starting homeschooling in two weeks.  So why exactly do I think I have time for blogging? LOL 

The answer is, I don't. But I will make time because it is important to me.  What I won't do is ignore my children in order to blog, so I definitely won't be able to post as much as I feel I need to with all the stuff swirling around in my head. :)  And speaking of my children, I won't be able to get up and be worth anything tomorrow if I don't get some sleep tonight.  Just wanted to say a quick "hello again" to anybody out there who may not have forgotten about this little blog.

We'll talk soon. ;-)

I'm alive... just not kickin'

I haven't dropped off the face of the earth. :)  I am just so covered up with life that it isn't funny.  I mean COVERED UP.  In fact, I haven't even been blog reading at all until doing some catching up tonight.  I have the weight of the world on my shoulders at the moment.  I'm pretty burned out.  When I am having a hard time doing even the simple things, then unfortunately adoption stuff has to take the back burner.  It is the most emotionally taxing thing in my life.  So it is on hold for a little bit.  Well, as on hold as it can possibly be.  Anyone else out there living it knows that you can't escape from it nomatter how hard you try.  So I'm still thinking about adoption daily and processing some thoughts, but I'm self-preserving at the moment.  I have a lot of people counting on me daily.  I can't afford to fall apart - at least, not on the outside. And the inside does better when I take an adoption break and live in denial for a while.  Not pretty and probably not healthy either, but honest.

Hope you'll stick with me and ride it out.

Finding her family - The next part of the story...

I intended to write this post almost a month ago, but as usually happens with my blog, I let a lot of other things distract me.  It is always more convenient to let my responsibilities in real life take me away from dealing with difficult feelings.  Then I write, and I wonder why I didn't help myself sooner. :)  I began my story of how I came to relinquish through Bethany a few posts back.  You can read it HERE if you need to catch up.  My intention is to give you the background on how I relinquished and where I was at emotionally and psychologically so that you can understand how I got to where I am now with my beliefs about adoption.  I hope tonight's post will help you understand even more...
I said before that I didn’t want to go into my time at the shepherding home too much, but there are some things that merit mention. As I said before, I worked on school and had some duties around the house. One of the things I did to help out was drive the kids to their various activities – and they had a LOT of activities. Ballet, jazz and tap, theatre practices, karate… In a way it was kind of fun because you can bet that I would never have attended a ballet class otherwise. LOL I also would never have known much about theatre, but because of this family, I got to see how much hard work went into productions, and I was able to really cheer them on during performances when they hit a routine just right. To this day, I can sing every word of West Side Story and The Fiddler on the Roof. :) In a way, I became a little part of their family, and I don’t really think I could find a way to convey how much I appreciate how they opened their home to me. I was very lonely being apart from my family and the few real friends I had. Looking back now with older eyes, I can see that it put a BIG strain on what seemed like an already fragile marriage (I believe they are divorced now), and there were plenty of awkward and embarrassing social moments. The mom took me to doctor appointments. Did people think I was her pregnant daughter? The family didn’t really have a home church, so when we visited places, my obviously pregnant teenage belly got some disapproving stares. It must have been uncomfortable for everyone, and I know they had to set aside their pride at times. Plus, just think of living in a college town and being young and pregnant. You pretty much get the stink eye everywhere you go. The two kids involved in theatre were extremely outgoing and seemed to be mostly unaffected by answering the probing questions of nosy people. But the middle child, the more quiet and pensive one… Even though he was very sweet to me, I know that he must have dealt with a fair amount of embarrassment and frustration. I have a lot of guilt over that now, but I sure can’t go back and change things. I never felt like they opened their home reluctantly, but rather, they were warm and probably pretty tolerant of the changes my presence brought. Their youngest even gave up her room for me and moved upstairs with her brothers! Now that’s sacrifice! LOL

As I mentioned in my earlier post, I met with my social worker regularly. We met in person about once a month and talked on the phone in between. I think we had a hard time getting on the same page from the get-go. It is difficult to explain the dynamic there… Because of my age and the way things were “arranged” for me to go away, it was kind of like I was riding a big tidal wave from the very beginning. And there wasn’t really a way to get off. Everything was just set in motion in the direction of relinquishing. Everyone expected it of me. It was the default. Of course I wouldn’t KEEP the baby. I would just get through the experience the best I could and figure out how to prepare for moving forward with life. I have a really unpopular yet descriptive phrase for this, but I’ll save that for another post.) It was uncomfortable discussing parenting with the social worker. It was as if she wanted to acknowledge that I wanted to talk about it, but it was a distraction from the plans we were supposed to be making. Everybody was on board with the original plan – my parents, people from my church, the shepherding family, the agency people – you name it. The SW was gentle and kind. She listened and offered a lot of Kleenex to dry my tears. She walked me through a lot of questions (many of them listed in my Checklist from God post.) But ultimately, we always needed to get back on focus. My perception of that time was that it was very much ok for me to have feelings; those were validated. But it was not really ok for me to have a voice. I was the child in the situation.

Trying to select another family for your child is one of the most unnatural, frustrating, discouraging things a mother can experience.  Every couple looked nice enough.  But that was really the extent of it.  I was staring at strangers that wanted to parent my child.  What can you truly know of a complete stranger?  I have a very, very distinct memory of a conversation I had with my social worker regarding how surreal the process was.  I was explaining to her how guilty I felt about "choosing" one couple over another.  I remember asking her, "How can I pick one couple over another as if one is more deserving?"  She did her best to comfort me, but I'm not sure she knew the depth of what I was struggling with.  Oh, did I have it backwards back then. :(  I felt such a burden to choose the right couple for their sake.  I felt like I was being unfair to the couples I didn't "like" on paper.  I didn't realize that I was not selecting them for their benefit, but rather, I was selecting someone for Ellen's benefit.  No one ever addressed that.  When I had questions and doubts, I was always reassured with positives about the families I was looking at.  They were so nice and so neat and so this or that...  I honestly don't believe that my social worker meant me any harm.  I think she genuinely had good things to say about the couples we were looking at on paper.  But the problem was that I didn't want to be choosing in the first place.  I was going through the motions.  Doing the next thing in the process.  Being the good girl.  That is why I could not zero in on a couple that "felt right".  None of it felt right to me.  It was weird.  Unnatural.  Exhausting.  Like being in a bad dream and begging to wake up.  But you don't.  I wish very much that my social worker had possessed the maturity, discernment or insight to point out that I did not have an obligation to the families I was reading about.  I wish that she would have helped me understand that if I was selecting a family for my child, that it was good and right for me to be focusing on what was in the best interest of my beloved daughter.  I needn't worry about who might be "let down" that they were not selected, but rather, I needed to find parents that would be a good fit for Ellen.  (As if a person can even know something like that.)  Overall, I wish that she would have just given me permission to NOT choose... permission to say that I didn't want to look at any more families.  Because I didn't.

I didn't know that writing about this would bring back such vivd memories.  It gives my stomach a pit and makes my head a little light.

I do have to say that I am very, very glad that they did not have those profile books on steroids back then.  And of course, the internet was in its infancy at that time, so very few people had acces to it.  The family I lived with actually got connected while I lived there, but with it being dial up and brand spanking new, every minute online cost mega bucks.  It was like talking on the phone long-distance. :)  LOL  All that to say, thankfully, there were no sappy YouTube videos either. :)  I wrote a detailed post a long time ago regarding the way profile books are handled today and a proposed solution to the serious problems they present.  You can find that post HERE.  I beg you to read it if you are unfamiliar with how women select adoptive couples for their babies or if you are familiar but have never really considered the perspective of a "birth mom" looking at profiles.  But I digress...

This looking at families on paper went on and on for months.  I wondered to myself what would happen if I just kept telling my social worker that I didn't feel right about any of the couples.  I wondered if it might mean that I didn't have to go through with things, but a larger part of me felt like they knew I would be "stalling". Such is the mind of a 17 year old.  Then one day my social worker brought a new folder with her to our meeting.  I remember she came to the shepherding home for that visit.  She was collecting a stack of folders that I had been looking through since our last appointment, and I think she had prepared herself to hear that I didn't have an interest in any of them.  The gist of the conversation was that she had a really great family in mind but that she had been holding back on showing their folder to me because another girl was seriously considering them.  She really shouldn't be telling me about them, but she just really felt like this was the family I would like.  She left the folder with me, and we agreed to talk on the phone in a few days.  I did like that family waaaaay more than I had liked any other family I had read about.  I don't want to share my reasons here on the blog, but my heart received them differently.  I know that is vague, and I apologize.  I know I usually tell a lot more than you probably want to read about my personal thoughts, but this is an area I don't want to divulge.

So I kept the folder, and as promised, my social worker followed-up with me soon after.  I told her that I liked them best of anyone I had seen, but that the problem was that I just wasn't sure I wanted to choose ANYONE.  This was not a surprise to her.  Her response was sincere, but again, in hindsight, not appropriate.  She informed me that I really needed to think about this and decide if I wanted this family because this other girl might choose them, and then I wouldn't be able to do anything about it.  It was like reserving an apartment or something.  Sigh.  And honestly, after our conversation I DID have a sense of urgency.  But before we got off the phone, I told her that I would have to take that risk because I just didn't know what I wanted to do.  If that girl had her heart set on that family, then I didn't want to be "mean" and "steal" them away. (How do you like my overuse of quotation marks?) :) 

A couple weeks later, I got the call from my social worker that the other girl had made ammends with her baby's father, and they had plans to get married and parent their child.  They were no longer working with Bethany, and I was free to reserve that family's folder if I wished.  I knew I didn't want any of the other folders I had previously seen, so I said, yes, I wanted to "reserve" them.  Doesn't all of this sound completely like something out of a Lifetime Movie?  I hate it.  But it is what it is.  Or was what it was.

This conversation took place about four or five weeks prior to my due date.  My social worker was going to contact the family to let them know I was interested in them, and we were going to discuss possibly meeting at the Bethany office.  We would not have that opportunity, though, because I went into labor 4 weeks early.  The ride I was on instantly got a lot faster, crazier and more scary.

Open Adoption Bloggers Interview Project

Well, today is the day!  We get to meet lots of bloggers who we previously may not have known and pick their brains about adoption-related issues.  Sounds like the perfect time to grab a cup of coffee and settle in. :)

Just in case you are just tuning in, Heather over at Production, Not Reproduction initiated this fabulous opportunity for Open Adoption Bloggers to interview one another.  I encourage you to check out the link and read some blogs that might be new to you.  I plan to hunker down tonight after my kids are in bed. :)  Click here for a complete list of bloggers who participated. 

I was paired with Andrea, who writes about her perspective as an adoptee on her blog entitled The Sought-After.  (Very neat title, by the way.) She is an intriguing woman who wears the hats of wife, mother, English professor, wilderness expert/enthusiast and adoptee.  I very much enjoyed familarizing myself with her blog and doing this interview with her.  I can't seem to soak up enough of the adult adoptee perspective.  Below are the questions I asked and her responses...  You can find her interview of me HERE if you are interested in more reading. :)

1) Would you be willing to share any memories (positive or negative) of specific times growing up when your thoughts were more focused on the fact that you were adopted? During those times, were you open with your parents about your feelings, or were your thoughts private?

When I was growing up, if someone said I looked like someone famous--Shirley Temple and Natalie Wood were two I remember--I wondered if I were somehow related to that person; I especially wondered if she were my mother. I think I told my parents about it, but they didn't really make a big deal about it.

2) Before you knew anything specific of your birth mother or met her, did you have a desire for her to grieve your absence and regret her choice, to be “at peace” with her decision and have moved forward with her life, or a mixture of both?

When I began thinking about my adoption with a semi-adult's mind (18 years old +), I wanted my birth mother to want me and miss me and to regret giving me up. Since I came from the long era of closed adoption, I always had to invent what my birth mother's situation was until I met her when I was 34. By then, I was a fully formed adult. She is still very terse about her experience of being pregnant with me and of placing me for adoption, so I still don't really know if she regrets her choice or grieved my absence. I'm sure she is still burdened by the shame that was heaped upon her for having premarital sex and getting pregnant. I wish she would say, "I wanted to keep you."

3)How did reunion with your birth family meet your expectations or fall short of your expectations? Did you feel any type of frustration or burden to meet expectations your birth family or your adoptive family might have had regarding the reunion?



My reunion fell short of my expectations in that I didn't really connect with my birthmother in any significant way. We are very different in most ways I can think of, so we have very little common ground upon which to forge our relationship. We don't look much alike, and we don't share any intellectual pursuits or hobbies. It was really disappointing to me to find that I don't even look like her. I think the only frustration I felt about our reunion was my own, not from anyone else's expectations.

4)Do you feel that your experience as an adopted person has influenced the way you approach marriage and parenting? If yes, how so?


Yes. I think being adopted kept me at loose ends for many years. It was very difficult for me to believe that anyone (ie a marriage partner) would not eventually leave me.



I didn't marry until I was 33.


I also didn't have children until I was 36, when my only child was born. Since his birth, we have dealt with infertility--I waited too long to start having babies--and while I really wanted another child, I haven't been able to come to terms with adopting a child, given what I know about how it feels to be adopted.

5)The light bulb is starting to come on for many people regarding the fact that adoption is often not really about the person it has always claimed to be about – the adoptee. But what do you believe is still the biggest elephant in the room? If you could speak your most honest thought regarding adoption with no fear of hurting or angering anyone, what would you need or want to say?

I think it's important for everyone to know that adoption isn't the "triple happy solution" that it's sometimes made out to be: the adopted child gets a home, the infertile parents get a baby, and the birth parents get to go on with their lives; everyone's happy. People must be made aware that adoption is a big deal--the emotions involved in adoption can't be swept under the carpet. Women do not forget the babies they relinquish. Adopted people need to know their origins. Adoptive parents must not enter the adoption world because they want to "save" children.


It's hard to answer all of these questions because I'm writing them to you--a birth mother. In general, I feel nervous about airing my true feelings about adoption because I'm very afraid of hurting someone in my adoption constellation. Perhaps this comes through in my blog. It's also hard to answer these questions because I'm so tired of people responding to my explanations of how I feel as an adoptee with statements such as, "But we all have feelings of insecurity and not belonging; we all have issues with identity. It's not because you're adopted." Well, I think it is because I'm adopted, and I think a lot of adoptees feel that way, but our voices are not heard.

I also think that birth mothers and adoptees suffer very similar kinds of pain--we both grieve huge losses in private. I hope reading all this isn't too painful for you. I'd love to hear your thoughts.Best wishes, Andrea

______________________________________________________________________________

Thanks, Andrea, for your honest answers.  They were not painful at all for me to read, but rather, just more to think on... And that's a good thing. :)

The freedom to write...

I have not intended to have such a long intermission here on my blog.  I began breaking down my story a couple of weeks ago and intended to continue it a few days later.  But there have been some legitimate reasons to pause before hitting that "publish" button.  The biggest reason has been my hesitation to continue digging into painful things.  Don't get me wrong.  I am very much ready to talk about my adoption experience.  But if I talk about my experience, that means that I also speak of other people in my life... People who are of great worth to me... People I do not want to wound.  It means talking about family relationships and very personal details of our lives.  It means not only opening up myself to criticism, but possibly opening up my family and maybe some friends to criticism or misunderstanding.  The last thing I want to do with my blog is hurt other people.  I live with a lot of pain because of adoption, but that does not mean that I ever want to hurt others. 

The intent of my blog is not to be a sounding board for anger or sarcasm, but rather, I actually want to accomplish a few things. :) 

1) I want to get my story out there. 

2) I want to dispel stereotypes (good and bad) about adoption. 

3) I want to show people who have only thought about adoption in a simplified way that it is COMPLICATED.   But then I want to offer some solutions and some hope when the complexities seem too much to take in. 

4) I want people to see that my joy and my survival comes from my relationship with a tender and wise God who is sovereign, rather than a sovereign God who loves adoption in its contemporary form.  Big difference. 

5)  I want to help people understand more about the truth of adoption so that they can own their choices - whether they are a person considering relinquishment or a person considering adopting.  Guilt is a heavy cross to carry, and there is a lot that an agency will not tell you, nomatter which client you are and no matter if the agency has "Christian" in their name.

6)  I want to create a place for people to connect with others who can understand their experience.  I used to think I was crazy until I found the internet and connected with gobs of other people who had always thought THEY were crazy too.  And here's the cherry on top:  A "birthmother" who is a Christian, who believes in the sovereignty of God in all things, yet who believes that contemporary adoption needs serious reform?  Yep.  I'm that gal. :)  And I'm not the only one.  In fact, there are also quite a few adoptive parents who agree, not to mention many, many adoptees -  all people who are often dismissed as not spiritual enough or mature enough to see that adoption is all beautiful and biblical.  Well, not here.  This is a place of respectful, open dialogue.

7)  This last goal is very lofty, but let's just go for it anyway. :)  I want to effect change in a way that will make adoption more ethical and more like showing the love of Christ to others, rather than the status quo, which is finding babies for families under the guise of ministering to pregnant women.  When the chief client is the adoptive couple and the main goal is getting their fees, then things get really skewed.  This is not an easy thing to talk about, but we know that the paying client is the top client - even for a non-profit.  Can you imagine what would happen if the people the agencies cater to the most would put their foot down and say, "I can't work with you if you conduct business in this way?"  It would revolutionize contemporary adoption.  But you can't put your foot down about what you don't know.  So I'm going to start the conversation.  I hope those with the balance of power will listen compassionately.

I feel good about writing here, now.  I had a really wonderful conversation with my mom today.  As circumstance would have it, we were both home from church sick. :)  We ended up talking on the phone for a long time, and she divulged to me that she had found my blog.  Yeah, that would be major for me.  But the first words that followed that revelation were, "... and I just want to tell you that you are doing a great job and good for you."  I didn't expect that from her... not because she is not an affirming mom, but because we are talking about some serious stuff here.  We talked about many things and finally had to get off the phone after being on for waaaay too long.  Of course, there are some things that she sees differently.  But she understands that I am writing from my experience and not through her eyes.  And she is ok with that.  She "gets it".  She encouraged me to keep writing and to keep talking about the hard, important stuff.  I can't tell you how much relief it brings me.  It lifts a very large elephant off of my chest and puts a tiny spring in my step.  Because I love my mom. (I love you, Mom!)  I don't want to tell my story at the expense of anyone else.  But I also don't want to be quiet.  I expressed to her that my number one goal is to tell my story with truth and integrity.  And now that we have crossed the hurdle of even bringing up the blog, it opens up the door for more conversations and more sharing of perspectives.  It is the possibility of understanding one another better and bringing more healing to the situation.  We have been so close for a long time, but we usually have just skimmed the surface of adoption "stuff".  It's just not something we talk about very much, and I assume that is because it is very painful for both of us.  But now we have a really great start.

I am ready to get back to writing... to being able to express grief and hopes and the need for change in adoption.  Thanks for giving me that freedom, Mom.  I don't know of anything bigger you could have offered me right now, and I want you to know how much it means to me.

In answer to your questions... :)

The reader of another blog contacted me this morning regarding some comments I had made on another discussion. I won’t link to it because it would be a TON of reading to catch up, but I’ll summarize it in a nutshell…


A woman struggling through infertility posted on her blog about a very recent (as in, the funeral has not yet taken place) death in her family. Sadly, the person who tragically died was the mother of a brand new three-week-old baby. The point of the blog post was not to discuss the tragedy of the accident, but rather, it was to discuss how badly she wanted that baby, and when it would be best to approach the new widower about the subject. To her delight, she didn’t have to worry about how to approach it because another family member had the same idea. She wanted to adopt the baby, but only if the other woman didn’t want the baby first. (Oh, do I wish I had emoticons.) A fellow blogger asked her (in a very self-controlled way, I might add) to please consider how backwards her thinking was on this. The initial blogger (Alicia) expressed that she believed this tragedy was God’s way of orchestrating the opportunity for her to finally become a mother. The commenter (Christina) tried to offer that adoption is not designed to find babies for people who want them, but rather, to provide homes for children who need a home. In the case of this newborn, he already had a capable father who was still in shock grieving his wife’s sudden death. How could this child possibly be viewed as someone who did not have a home or someone to care for him? Anyway, it just got out of hand, and rather than responding to Christina’s questions, Alicia pulled the “do you know where you would go if you died tonight” card and went off on a very inappropriate and unrelated tangent sharing the plan of salvation with Christina. It was a trainwreck. I left some comments, trying to offer the perspective of another Christian who felt it was an inappropriate venue, and another commenter who was in agreement with Alicia came to my blog and had a couple of questions for me.

He was very respectful, and I want to answer him honestly, so here is what he posed to me:

“Hi Jenni,

You posted a comment on another blog and instead of replying there since it is off the main point of the post I thought would come to your blog.  You profess to be a Christian, so if I was not a Christian and had 3 minutes left to live, what would you say to me?  Also, when is it an appropriate time to share your faith and when isn't it?  Thank you for your time.”

So this is to the poster, known as Galatians 2:20, and anyone else who might be wondering the same thing…

I don’t mind answering your question at all. :)  Although, because your question stems from the discussion over on the other blog, I think it is imperative to set my comments and my explanation of them within the proper context.

I absolutely believe with all of my being that as Christians it is our duty and privilege to bring the gospel to others. No doubt about it. You asked if you were an unbeliever and had 3 minutes left to live, what I would share with you. Well, without a doubt, I would compel you to look to Christ. I would be very compassionate yet direct with you about what God tells us about eternity. But here is the thing: In the context of the other blog conversation, it was not a life and death moment, not a moment in which all else should be cast aside and an urgent plea made. It was just totally inappropriate. The discussion at hand was about adoption, where Christina outlined her concerns over Alicia’s view on adopting her family member’s baby. Alicia did not address Christina’s questions at all, but rather dismissed them entirely, and then proceeded to go completely off-topic and cite every misinterpreted verse in the Bible where she believes that adoption has God’s stamp of approval. On top of that, she then goes into a detailed sharing of the gospel, which automatically falls on deaf ears because she has just finished dismissing everything Christina said. Sharing Christ is not about ignoring everything else about a person and forcing them onto the topic of total depravity and Christ’s atonement. If you mistreat a person, dismiss them, plug your ears as you hum la-la-la, and then plunge into, “Do you know where you would go if you died tonight?” they are not going to hear anything you have to offer them, no matter if it is truth.

I am an absolute living trophy of God’s grace. I am one hundred percent a Saul turned Paul. It overwhelms me daily that God would love me and have mercy on me when I was doing everything I could to run away from Him. But I can’t help anyone see how amazing and beautiful that is if I treat them rudely right before I offer it. We must treat people with compassion and grace. If we cannot be kind to them, our sharing of the gospel means nothing because we are more concerned with spreading our message than with authentically reaching people and seeing a change in them.

I Corinthians 13 speaks plainly on this. It tells us that “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

I don’t want to be a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. I want to be patient and kind with those who do not share my faith. I do not want to be rude or seek to make my point at all costs (even if my point is to share the gospel). I would rather show love to the person by listening to them, valuing them as a person (translate: love them as ones for whom Christ died) and seek to gain their respect and trust so that they might receive what I have to say at the appropriate time regarding their need for Christ and the truth of the gospel. We can’t blindside people by attacking them with Scripture and trying to scare them into eternity. We must compel them with our own lives as examples of what the love of God, the death of Christ, the power of the resurrection and the keeping of the Holy Spirit can do to change our lives forever.

I have heard it wisely said before that sharing the gospel is not JUST sharing the gospel. It is sharing your own soul with another person. I Thessalonians 2 is a wonderful expression of this. Bear with me in reading the first twelve verses:

“For you yourselves know, brethren, that our visit to you was not in vain; but though we had already suffered and been shamefully treated at Philippi, as you know, we had the courage in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in the face of great opposition. For our appeal does not spring from error or uncleanness, nor is it made with guile; but just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel, so we speak, not to please men, but to please God who tests our hearts. For we never used either words of flattery, as you know, or a cloak for greed, as God is witness; nor did we seek glory from men, whether from you or from others, though we might have made demands as apostles of Christ. BUT WE WERE GENTLE AMONG YOU, LIKE A NURSE TAKING CARE OF HER CHILDREN. SO, BEING AFFECTIONATELY DESIROUS OF YOU, WE WERE READY TO SHARE WITH YOU NOT ONLY THE GOSPEL OF GOD BUT ALSO OUR OWN SELVES, BECAUSE YOU HAD BECOME VERY DEAR TO US.


For you remember our labor and toil, brethren; we worked night and day, that we might not burden any of you, while we preached to you the gospel of God. You are witnesses, and God also, how holy and righteous and blameless was our behavior to you believers; for you know how, like a father with his children, we exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to lead a life worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.”

This doesn’t mean that I have secret motives when I befriend a person who does not think like me. I am not lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to pounce on them or back them into a corner and spoon feed Scripture to them. It means that I believe that there are times for frank discussions, and there are times for LIVING my faith as an example. I must first take an interest in them as a person if their soul will truly mean anything to me. Otherwise, we reduce people to another check mark in the wall… one more notch in our “witnessing” belts. Ugh. I grew up in a Christian school that routinely emphasized in its chapel services that it was of importance to win as many souls as possible to Christ.  But it was done in a way that reduced people to a notch on a belt, another point on the score card, as if it was some type of competition or evidence of being "more holy" if you had led the most people to the Lord.  I don’t think this is the heart of Christ. People are not to be notches in our belts.  I have a very distinct memory of being in junior high in one of those chapel services with the preacher going on and on about this and feeling like a complete and total loser because at the age of 12 I had never led anybody to the Lord.  ??? Seriously.

You must also understand that the world of adoption is a place in which far too many people have been immeasurably wounded by religion, selfishness and greed disguised as ministry, and covetousness backed by biblical accounts of adoption. It breaks my heart. There are a lot of people out there spouting off Bible verses who don’t have any real knowledge. They are just regurgitating things they have heard elsewhere. It is damaging and well, just plain wrong. It harms the cause of Christ way more than it helps it. I will even go as far as to say that I think Satan rejoices when this type of thing happens because he knows it complicates things even further and causes a greater divide between truth and what is just commonly and blindly accepted about adoption. Very sad, indeed.

Anyway, now I have written way more than you wanted to read, so I apologize for that. I am at home with sick kids today, so there isn’t much I can do besides sit here with two little girls snuggling me on the couch. I’m not complaining, though. :)  I hope you’ll stick around to read more and hear what others have to say. And I hope I answered your questions sufficiently.  Thanks for listening.

Really quick, before I forget...

I LOVE talking to people and listening to them tell me about their lives.  It is always so interesting to me to get below the surface and find out who somebody REALLY is and what makes them tick... you know, what types of experiences have influenced them and shaped who they are.  I am always amazed at how much more beautiful a person is to me after I have been given a small window into their life for a few minutes.  It has helped make me a more compassionate person and taught me WAY MORE than I could have ever known that I didn't know!  How is that for confusing! LOL 

Anyway, if you are like me and want to soak up more and gain a better perspective on the very complex world of adoption, I encourage you to check out the Open Adoption Bloggers Interview Project over at Production, Not Reproduction.  You can also click on the button to the right to find out the details.  I am excited about participating and getting to know another blogger, not to mention, finding new blogs to read.  Don't be shy!  Jump in and learn from someone else!  And have a voice! :)

Growth and change... The first of the story

Well, for those of you who stay pretty connected with me, you know this has been a rocky adoption week.  The blog was private for a couple of days while I was getting more information on why in the world some total stranger would contact my agency and meddle in my personal situation.  I was told that the person (who is still unknown to me) was coming at it from an angle of "concern" for me.  I still maintain that it was completely inappropriate for someone to show "concern" for me by going behind my back, going to the agency first instead of to ME first, and jeopardizing an already delicate situation.  I will completely own the responsibility for writing on a public blog.  And I do have analytics, so I happen to know that my agency has been reading... I knew that before I got the call.  Just do me a favor, friends (and foes). I ask that if you disagree with me (and I know you will at times), please have enough compassion and decency to come to me personally, or respectfully join the discussion on the blog.  I welcome differing viewpoints as long as people keep it civil.   Afterall, the whole purpose of the blog is to facilitate discussion and give a voice to people who are often dismissed.  I stand behind what I believe.  But I am fair.  Please be fair to me.  And don't punch me in the gut in anonymity or in a passive aggressive way.  If you can't respect me, can you respect my family, my precious little girls, and my first daughter?  Because those are the people who were affected by your "concern" this week. 

With that said, I thought it might be a good time to explain a few things about where I started out and how I got to this point.  I was asked this week how I could go from being supportive of Bethany and speaking publicly for them to having a blog that talks about so much that I believe needs to be changed.  I think that is a very legitimate question and one that is worthy of a sincere response.  If you are going to be able to see where I am coming from now, you have to be able to see where I started out.  This may take a couple of posts so as not to bog you down completely in one sitting. :)

I grew up knowing about Bethany.  I grew up in the church and in a Christian home.  My church was very heavily involved with Bethany.  I knew people who adopted through Bethany, people who kept foster babies and who did interim care for Bethany, and people who opened their homes to women who were relinquishing through Bethany who needed a temporary place to stay.  I did not know anyone who had ever relinquished a child.  We regularly had "Sanctity of Life" Sunday each year, had elders in our church who were on the local Bethany Board, etc...  Bethany was always a very good thing in my mind.  So naturally, when I became pregnant right around my 17th birthday, it was THE place to go.  My parents were as lost as I was, and it was as if when we called Bethany, the cavalry was coming.  Help was on the way.  ( I promise I don't mean to sound like I am making light of this.  I am just spilling it all out, and this truly is how it was at the time.)  We, my mom and dad and I, had HOPE that they would help us sort through the possibilities.  Our heads were spinning, and we honestly were in a panic.  Well, my parents were in a panic.  And heartbroken.  Crushed.  I was humiliated by what I had done, the circumstances surrounding HOW I got pregnant (not ready to talk about that here) and basically scared out of my mind.  No, more like TERRIFIED.  I had just finished my junior year of high school and had taken Senior English in summer school.

My mom and I went to Bethany and talked with the person who had been there for years and years... someone beloved by our church and many families we knew.  She was a gentle woman, very kind and compassionate and calming.  We used up a lot of tissues in her office, but we breathed easy after we left.  We had more clarity.  I was only 8 weeks pregnant.  To this day, I truly believe that everything she said and did was from a heart that desired to help us and to show us the love of Christ.  Her heart was in her work, and she was a person of integrity.  She is now retired from Bethany.

Over the next few days after that appointment, my mom was on the phone with the Bethany office.  I was not involved in those conversations, but it was revealed to me soon after that the social worker and my parents believed I should not go through my pregnancy in my hometown.  Too many outside influences.  Too many people who would offer opinions and advice.  So... drum roll please...  I was going to go live in another city, one hundred miles away, and live with what Bethany called a shepherding family.  In a matter of a few weeks, it was all said and done... totally arranged... and I was packing my bags and driving my little red beretta down the freeway.  It didn't matter that I sobbed and begged and pleaded to PLEASE be able to stay at home.  I had no say in it.  Off I went.  I stayed in the other town the entire time I was pregnant, coming home only for a few days at Thanksgiving and then again at Christmas.  I am not usually a vulgar person, but frankly, it sucked.  Bigtime.  I had never felt so alone and in despair.  If I thought I was terrified when I learned I was pregnant, it was nothing compared to how I felt when I was sent away.  Oh, and I forgot... First we had to tell my church that I was pregnant, that I was remorseful, and that I was working with Bethany.  THEN I had to leave home.  Of course, at the time, it was explained to me that it would be better if we told the church all at one time instead of just letting people gossip and spread misinformation.  Actually, it was pretty much the most humilating thing that has ever happened to me, and separated my heart from the church for quite some time.  You have to understand that at age 17, when everyone is already so disappointed and so angry and so crushed that you have messed up so badly, all you want to do is make it go away.  Make it better.  Try to repair things.  Do what it takes to make your parents and the other adults in your life approve of you.  At least, that is how I was wired, but I'm getting off track...

I don't want to go into much detail about my time in the shepherding home.  I do remember a great deal about that time, but I honestly don't want to drag anyone else into my story at this point.  As lonely and debilitatingly painful as it was to be sent away, I do have to say that the mother in the home was the first person to ever question if I truly had a relationship with God.  Of course at the time, I couldn't have been more offended! LOL  But I do credit her with asking me some hard questions about spiritual things, and causing me to evaluate my heart... all the while being very angry with her! :)  I am not proud of that, but that is how I felt at the time.

While I lived in the home, I spent my days finishing my senior year of high school via correspondence and getting some college credits through the university in the town.  Ironically, this involvement with the university would help me years and years later when my husband and I moved back to that town, because everything was familiar to me.   Actually, I find it very, very sweet that the happiest memories of my life up to this point are in that town, because for years it contained my darkest moments and was a place of instant pain for me whenever I had to visit .  I believe it was God's tenderness with me and a personal gift that he gave out of love for me, but I'll talk more about that at another time.  In addition to finishing school and starting some college work, I had some responsibilities around the house (which were good for me) and I met regularly with my social worker.

I want to go into a lot more detail with that, but it is extremely late.  Like almost 3 am late.  And since I have two little kids, I don't have any business staying up any later. :)  But your eyes are tired by this point anyway.  I'll pick back up next time.

May I recommend...

My friend Michelle has a fabulous post on recognizing loss in adoption.  She did such a great job of compelling the naysayers to acknowledge the reality of WHY adoption contains loss, nomatter what kind of adoption you have.  Her perspective comes from being in the role of adoptee, mom to bio children and mom to a child through international adoption.  She is gracious and articulate.  Go check her out!

A checklist from God

Overall, I feel good.  I feel positive.  I feel scared, but I'm alright.  In working on my letter, I have hope, and I can only live in the present.  I can't forecast grief.  I have to do what I believe is best, with the information that I have available to me (not much), and step out there.  I have continued to go through all the stuff I saved from my first pregnancy, and it is so very interesting to look at it with older eyes, an older mind, and an older heart.  It makes me want to go back and put my arms around the 17 year old who was so lonely and heartbroken.  I have tried to read some of my journal entries, but I am not quite ready to go there, yet.  When I start to read the words, I can actually go back in time in my head and see the room I stayed in at the shepherding home, think of specific moments, songs, smells... It is a sad thing for me.  I don't have a good reason to go back to those places right now, so I am going to set the journal aside until I am able to take on some of the reality of it.

I did come across some notes, though, that I thought might help some of the people out there who have a hard time understanding what my (and so many others') big beef is with Bethany.  I'm not trying to just spew ugliness about them.  Honestly.  But I have begun to realize in this grieving process that a very LARGE part of my grief is that they still counsel women in the same manner I was counseled, and people LOVE them for it.  I mean, they LOVE it.  They praise Bethany's ministry and just can't say enough good about them.  And if you bring up anything negative... look out. LOL

Well, folks, here's a glimpse into one of my counseling sessions during my pregnancy.  I would often take notes while I met with my caseworker, and this is the gem I pulled out of my files today.  It is a list of questions she wanted me to think over and answer for her during our next meeting together regarding my desire to keep my baby.  Hold on tight!

1) Am I truly searching out God's will or my own?

2) Am I being realistic about being able to go to college if I parent?

3) Am I remaining firm in my desire to parent because of outside influences and opinions?

4) Am I doing what is truly best for my child with the right motives?

5) Is my relationship with my parents suffering because I want to parent?

6) Is my relationship with God suffering because of selfishness?

7) Am I willing to humbly obey God's will as He reveals it to me?

8) Do I love God more than my baby?

9) Am I closing my eyes to the doors God is opening because of denial?

10) Am I thankful to God for what He has delivered me from so far?

Surely anyone who will be honest knows that what they just read was very sad.  Do you think that was ministry?  Was that unbiased?  Appropriate for speaking with a 17 year old who is purposefully separated from her parents?  Do you think that is something that I should look back on and respond with a "Thank God Bethany helped me see the light!"  I know the word sad is not very descriptive, but honestly, sometimes a simple word says a lot.  Sad. That is what I am every time I have read back through that today.

It is not ok to counsel women in this way.  It is using guilt and God to manipulate a desired response from someone who is in a vulnerable state physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  The woman who asked me to think on those things was not a tyrant.  She was a sweet, sincere woman in her young twenties who was working on her masters in social work.  She was nice to me.  She wrote kind little notes at the bottom of my form update letters for the first few months of my updates (until she left employment with Bethany to be closer to college friends.)  She was as sweet as candy, but she was SERIOUSLY misguided.  I have no doubt that she was well-intentioned.  I'm sure she felt sorry for me and felt somewhat uncomfortable with my emotional struggles.  I'm sure she probably entered her career with the hopes that she was going to minister to women in unplanned pregnancies and couples who suffered through infertility.  I believe I've heard the career referred to as being a "dream-maker" before? (Tongue in cheek.) 

Anyway, pure intentions or not, she bombed.  But she isn't the only one.  She is one of many, many social workers asking pregnant women if they are searching out God's will for their baby, all the while sending women home from their counseling appointments with those "Dear Birthmother" letters and profile books full of people already calling them a birthmother and praising them for being so selfless and mature and telling them their woes of being childless and having so much love to give.  I'm not being snarky.  I'm letting you into my life for about two minutes.  I'm trying to show you how something that is so important to me, my belief in God and my desire to make a right decision, was used to convince me that I needed to give my baby to someone else who God approved of more.  Go back and read it again if you need to.

I am not angry tonight.  I'm not bitter.  As I said before, I'm sad.  I'm sad that people raise money for this to happen.  I'm sad that when women talk about their experience, others are there to add insult to injury and tell them they just need to find some peace in their life.  I'm sad that so many, many people would suppose that they know God's will for other people's lives.  Maybe that is why they continue to charge so much for their services.  I would imagine that supernatural wisdom like that is worth a pretty penny. LOL

I love my God.  I am at peace with my God.  I trust my God even though I am not certain of what he is doing in my life and my daughter's life.  I live in forgiveness and freedom because He not only died for me, but then rose from the grave to show that he had overcome every evil thing, including death.  Nothing, nothing, can confine Him or test His love for me.  I do not have to accept someone else's definition of who He is or what He asks of me because He reveals Himself to me personally.  This is the hope that everyone in Christ can claim.  If you do not share my faith, I do not expect you to embrace what I am saying, but this is my source of strength and courage and confidence.

I want to write more, but I'll sleep now.

"Let those who fear the Lord say, 'His love endures forever'. In my anguish I cried to the Lord, and he answered by setting me free.  The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid.  What can man do to me?"

Psalm 118:4-6

I dit it.

I wrote the letter.  And I feel strange.  I haven't done anything with it, but I guess the next step is to have another set of eyes read it.  I probably need to change a few things that I am not yet aware of. :)  I just kind of poured it all out and there it was.

It feels good to finally have something on paper.  I have procrastinated for so long for what I believed to be very valid reasons.  But it is time to stop hiding behind those reasons and just take a step in faith.

The bad news is that I will have to call Bethany in order to set up a meeting with them and then have them forward the letter.  The good news is that I'm no longer 17, and I don't have to feel intimidated.  It took me a long time to get here, but I'm actually pretty comfortable in my thirty-something skin.  I have some things I'd like to say, and I don't mind saying them.  It's amazing what 15 years of life can do to boost your confidence.

For the first time in a loooong time, I will have some genuine rest as I put my head on my pillow tonight.  I don't know what the future holds or if there will be a lot of heartache because of this letter.  But I have been praying about this for years, and very intensely for the last few months.  I believe it is right to move forward with it.