Wednesday, June 21, 2017
So, I don't know if you are watching The Handmaid's Tale on Hulu, but I am. For those not familiar with this story, it is in a future where pregnancies are few and fewer still are those who make it full term. There have been wars, and the US no longer exists, but rather a country call Gilead (a Theocracy) is in its place. In a place where the Old Testament rules and women are property with no rights or abilities, it is a bleak existence for any one, but it is worse for the handmaids: Forced into a life of being used for their ability to conceive, for the benefit of the leadership of Gilead.
Now, why am I talking about this on the blog? Well, it was really the season finale that got me, and I knew I needed to share. *I promise to try not give any spoilers for those who want to watch still can without fear.*
It was at the beginning of the episode, and Serena Joy has forced Offred to take a pregnancy test. And then Serena Joy takes that pregnancy test, gets on her knees and prays to God that it is positive.
I know it doesn't sound like much, but watching that scene, I was sobbing. I remember feeling that way with pregnancy tests. Worse yet, I know that feeling right now in our adoption. That feeling of being on the edge of hope and giving up hope. Like wanting to cry and vomit and laugh and run away, all in a single moment. There is no other feeling like it, and it is the worst feeling ever.
Right now I'm feeling this way, because I just experienced my first real health crisis ever. I was actually admitted to the hospital for a few days, and am now on the road to recovery. But that puts a hold on trying to save money for the adoption from our paychecks, because now we will have a hospital bill and an ER bill to pay.
I can't help but feel that every time we take a step forward in this, we get shoved back another 5. There are days where I feel like we've made no progress at all. And there are days where I feel like all I am doing is crying, praying, asking God to give us a child.
It's such a fine line, but giving up means saying good by to the dream of being a mother. And maybe, where I am today is where you are struggling with your own dream. It might not be motherhood that is your dream. It might be a great job, or having a spouse. It might be your dreams of travel or you dreams of stepping out of your comfort zone and doing something crazy. I don't know where you are, but if you are on the fine line of hope and hopelessness, don't give up.
It's hard for a reason, because the outcome will be worth the pain.
Wednesday, June 7, 2017
Warning: This is a post that has been sitting in my drafts for over a month. At first, I wasn't sure if I wanted to post this, as it is raw and emotional (I can't even read it without crying). But I realized that there are others who are experiencing the same thing right now and need to know that they are not alone. As you read this, know that you are not alone.
"You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy." Psalm 30:11
Everyone talks about loss in adoption, in regards to that first feelings when you realize biological children aren't in God's plan for you. But another part of loss in adoption, and that is a subject that few people talk about. It is that moment when you have been chosen by a family and it falls through for whatever reason.
In January, we had been contacted by a family about adopting two children, and we were so excited. We got our homestudy, we told our family and some close friends. We told our church. We knew that we were on our way to growing our family.
And then right before Easter, it was over.
I knew when we decided to adopt that we might experience this, but when it happened, it was so much harder to deal with the hurt than I imagined. Maybe it was because we had already met the children. Maybe it was because we had started to prepare rooms, gather decor, and get a few miscellaneous things like books/activities for the children. Maybe it was because we had to tell everyone that this wasn't going to happen, that we were having to start over.
I will be honest, I still can't tell this story without tearing up. I mean, I had prepared my heart to be these children's mother, and then it was all gone. Several of my good friends told me it was just like a miscarriage, without the hormonal aspects. Though I've never had a miscarriage, I can't imagine the loss of a child beyond my own experience. And it has been, and is excruciating.
How do you heal and pick yourself back up again to risk this loss? How do you deal with the looks from people when you have to tell them that the adoption fell through and you are working on the next step of starting over? And how do you not blame yourself, even though everything is out of your hands when it comes to this?
And I don't have a good answer for any of it, as there are no perfect answer. We are still picking up the pieces and we are still working on being ready to be able to adopt (whenever that should happen). And we will keep working on the adoption, until God shows us that we need to stop.