Originally posted May 19, 2008 on our old Vox blog.
The above title was a comment made to me about a week ago, and I have not been able to let it go. I was in the workroom during my lunch, and the topic of giving birth came up. A group of women can be pretty graphic about this. I turned to the expecting mother in the room and said sarcastically, “Good luck with all that.” This earned the response, “Yeah, you chose the easy way out.” Now, I’m not saying that my sarcastic comment was the best, but nonetheless, I said it. My mouth does have the tendency to get me in trouble.
I have mulled over this “easy way out” for a week. I find that using the word easy to describe an adoption process is preposterous. At the moment Scott and I submitted our foreign dossier, we were met with signing a Risk Agreement. Submitting our foreign dossier felt like such an accomplishment. We would be waiting for our child, but not exactly. The day the call came about the Risk Agreement brought with it a lot of doubt about us finishing the process. Our social worker felt pretty sure that we were not going to make it through the process in time. Unfortunately, I got this call at work in the middle of my lunch. I immediately left the room and ran into my supervisor’s office. I fell apart and asked to leave for the day, after which I drove to Scott’s office. We didn’t know what to make of all of this. We read over the Risk Agreement, and it said some pretty scary things. We decided to wait until we were both home to review it some more. After dinner, we looked at the Agreement again and started to go through the checklist. We felt pretty good about it, except for the scary things – things we didn’t want to have to deal with. We decided to leave it for the next morning, and I decided to take off the next day. (This was my co-teacher’s idea. He saw my state before I left and told me not to come back the next day. This was good advice.) In the morning we signed everything and turned it in to the agency. This was our baby, and we wanted to do everything we could to unite he or she with us. (We have heard from fellow adoptive parents that have had to sign similar forms. It has always been encouraging to know that people have walked before us and support us.)
After that emotional day, we just existed. We continued to hear about the unlikelihood of us finishing. From February to April, we heard this repeatedly. We were told to pick another country or make a backup plan. We felt like we were told we were going to fail and never meet our baby, nevermind the fact that we already called it our baby. This was a very difficult period for us. I remember being in tears nearly every time I took a shower or drove to work. These were the times I was most vulnerable and where my thoughts and prayers would wander. I unabashedly told God that we wanted this child. We really wanted this, but if it wasn’t His will, then I would accept that also. This was my inner struggle for three months. I felt like I kept it at bay and under control most of the time. I didn’t really want to share what was going on inside of me, in my heart.
Fortunately for my stubborn self, I had a bible study group at my house. One evening, I guess I couldn’t keep it in. I let everything out. The biggest question that scared me was, “What if we were wrong?” I also wondered, “What if this is hard because this isn’t God’s will?” (Now, I can see how ridiculous this was.) I still remember the response. “Annie, don’t say that. It breaks my heart to hear you say that. Anyone can read your blog and know that you are seeking God and following His will.” Those words were so encouraging to me. I had been so reluctant to reach out for help, but there it was ready and waiting.
I was able to handle my emotions a little better after this. About three weeks ago we received an email from our agency about the DOS warnings and updates. It took another week and a half for our agency to sort out all the information and confirm what Scott and I thought. We were going to be OK. We would get to finish the adoption process. We have lived with this reality for three weeks, but it still has not sunk in. I still can’t believe. I tell people, and they get really excited, which confuses me. We lived with the prospect of losing our baby so long that we weren’t prepared for the reality of getting a baby. We didn’t get excited. We just felt like we could breathe a little sigh of relief … but not a whole one. I have guarded my heart so tightly that it is taking other people’s joy to break through. Don’t worry; we are getting there.
So anyway, all this to say, that though I will not experience any birthing pains, this has not been an easy process. But God has brought us this far, and He will take us the rest of way.
