Broken Hearts

I have delayed writing this post... choosing instead to hope that what was happening wasn't real...

But unfortunately we are here... again.

Again a woman that we loved and prayed for has had a last minute change of heart.
Again a baby we have fallen in love with will not be joining our family.
Again we are left broken.
Again we find ourselves asking the Lord why? and begging for his comfort...

So, what happened?

The Friday before K's due date I received a call from her father saying that there was a problem.  He said "K received a text from the birth father and he plans to contest the adoption."  Apparently, the birth father that had been supportive of K's plans to place their baby for adoption had a last second change of heart.  K on the other hand wanted to proceed with the adoption as planned...

We spent the weekend on the phone with K's father, our attorney and her attorney gathering information and making plans.  We were informed by our attorney that the birth father had little (if any) right to contest and we were assured over and over by K's family that what she desired was to move forward.    Niles and I remained committed to helping carry out her plans... even though there was a risk that we would be walking into a legal battle if the birth father moved forward with his threats.  We went to bed Sunday night just asking the Lord to change the birth father's heart and make clear what our next steps should be...

Our answer came in the form of a call on Monday afternoon.  K's father called Niles and work and explained to him that K was afraid of the possibility that our adoption would be contested and result in her baby being raised by the birth father (a 16-year old 10th grader with a difficult home life)... so instead she decided to parent the baby herself.

That's it.  No more discussion.  Just over.


[silence]


Two days, later in a moment of almost desperation to know something I began searching for the birth father online... 
Somehow, with bunny trails of old Myspace pages I found his name and was then able to look him up on Facebook.

...On his page I saw him and I saw the baby.

She was born that day, a sunny Wednesday.  
She looked tiny with a head full of black hair.  
Her name was Clara B.

Knowing that she was born and safe didn't heal the wound in my heart... but in some way it was a step toward closure... a tiny step.

Niles and I emailed K's family that day.  We let them know that our hearts were deeply saddened by the stress and difficulty that caused a change in K's plans and that we committed to supporting K in her decision.  We also asked them to communicate to K that our hearts are saddened but not angry toward her.  We closed the  email letting them know that if circumstances were to change and K decide that she longer wanted to parent that we were able to move at a moment's notice to return to our original plan.


They never responded to our email.


Now what?

Now we grieve.  
Now we sit at the Lord's feet and ask him to comfort our hearts.
Now we take things one day at a time allowing ourselves both  good days and bad days

Now we cling to God's word for strength, trusting that:

Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy!
He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, 
shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him. 
(Psalm 126:5-6)

The day I met your birth mother

I never want to forget the details of today.  One day my Ruthie will ask me about the first time I met her birth mother and I want to be able to paint her a picture...

It was a cold and rainy Tuesday.  We were the first to arrive.  We were nervous- big time.  We ordered our drinks, switched seats several times and finally settled on the spot that would be best to have as private a conversation as possible.

After a few minutes we saw her arrive with her father and instantly knew we were seeing "K" for the first time.  They came in, apologized for being a few minutes later than expected and we all said our first time hellos.  I said hello, came around the table and hugged her.   My thoughts were all over the place in that moment- something like this:  "She is so beautiful.... She is so tiny...  Her hair is wet... Her eyes are so beautiful...  She is so young... She smells like sweet shampoo...I think she's nervous... she looks like family..." and that was just the first 5 seconds...

Then all 4 of us, nervous as can be, sat down.  None of us knew for sure where to begin, or how to normalize this most abnormal meeting.  Niles began by telling K and her father that we were willing to share with them anything they would like to know about us...and the conversation slowly began rolling from there.

The specifics of the conversation I won't be able to share here... but I can say that in their words I felt a deep love for K's baby.  Her father tearily and honestly shared the difficulty and grief their family has been experiencing as they have walked this journey- and it broke my heart.  I wished I could say "just the right thing" that would make everything better.  I wished that I could take away the hurt and somehow make this easy for them- but of course I can't.  In adoption there is always pain- and we know that only the Lord can bring healing and restoration.

Niles and I left the coffee shop both excited and heavy-hearted.  We felt that K and her family were confident in their decision to place her baby with our family (K even asked me if I'd like to go to one of her doctor's appointments with her!).  We were  also burdened with the knowledge that their decision, when carried out, will hurt them deeply.

We ask that you would please pray with us for K and her family.  Pray that they will feel the wings of the Lord wrap around them even now.  That He will give them comfort and confirmation in their decision that they need.  Pray that they will experience and believe the truth found in Psalm 34:

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

We are grateful for another opportunity to see the Lord move and work. 
Even in the heaviness of the day we are thrilled to be another day closer to bringing our baby girl home!

I don't know what you're doing, but I know who you are

I remember saying to one of my closest friends on the playground a few weeks ago "If this whole thing falls apart and L changes her mind... after all the pink-to-blue and emotions we've been through- will someone be there to hold me up?"  With all the confidence in the world she said "Yes!  We will be there!"

And she was.  And so were many of you reading this blog now.  You were there to hold me up.  You interceded for me and my family when I no longer had the words I needed. You empathized with our sorrow. You understood that although L's baby was never in my tummy or in my arms my heart experienced a great loss when our adoption plan fell apart. 

Thank you for being there. 

I have moved into the acceptance stage of grief... acknowledging that I have NO idea what God is doing, but asserting full faith in WHO he is.  Perhaps the Lord will give me the luxury on this side of heaven to understand the "why?" of this part of our story... but even if he doesn't I will trust that he will work all things out for our good.   The Lord has not left us and in HIM we continue to HOPE! I give glory to the Lord and thanks to his people for getting us through that most difficult and unwanted week-long-vacation. We look forward to coming better days.

This week we are back to our new normal... back to work for Daddy, back to K4 preschool for Turner, back to just-the-two-of us mornings for me and Cal and back to waiting for a birth mother to choose us.  There are moments when the idea of  "waiting again" suffocates me... I worry about enduring all that we did last time all over again... but in those moments Niles reminds me that all adoption stories are different.  That there is no reason to believe next time the wait will be as long nor that it will be as arduous... and if it is, again our FATHER will be there and his people will come along side us.

Again, we look forward to coming better days.

"Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation."

Habakkuk 3

A week later

So, this morning I was accused of being a silent sufferer by a good friend and decided it was time to post again. I've processed quite a bit this week, and will probably make more progress as I write this.

One week ago today, Maria and I were nervous, but crazy excited about meeting our son the next day. We were ready to go: room's finished, little bags packed, ringtones updated as to not freak us out as much when our social worker called, etc. All we had to do was sleep. For me, that was a no brainer. Literally. See, I have what some call a "nothing box" in my mind that I can access at will. When the time is right, I then crawl into this nothing box in my mind where nothing exists except for me and my pillow and sleep. Maria had no such box, and slept very little from what I'm told. You can reference Maria's previous post to see how that next day went. She nailed it. What we hoped would never happen to us, happened.

So, Monday I was pissed-off. Can I say that? Guess I just did. Was I angry with L? No, we love L and want the best for her and her child. But, who can say what's best? I guess that's up to her. And we respect that, as much as we might disagree. I think it was a protective reaction in my heart to this whole fiasco. I wanted to stand up for both the baby and L, but couldn't. Still can't.

Tuesday, I could almost physically feel the comfort of the Holy Spirit in my heart the entire day. What does that feel like? Feels like a wild hope that seems to spring from nowhere and squashes what should be utter pain and disbelief. Maria and I took Turner to preschool and then took Calvin to the Riverwalk. There we had a much-needed cathartic (look it up, I had to) walk, where I was insanely calm and hopeful about everything, and Maria and I talked through everything we could think of regarding the past day. Did we get it wrong somewhere? Should we keep going? What should we be focused on? Why are we having to go through all this?

Here's where we landed: We know for sure that God is sovereign; He's in control of everything. Not in a cliche way of saying it. But really. What has happened is part of his sovereign plan for this world, and our lives. We know for sure that the LORD works all things for his glory. (Isaiah 48:11, Jeremiah 13:11, Ephesians 1:5-6, 12, etc.) And lastly, we know that the praise of God's glory brings us the deepest joy. John Piper says it well in a reflection on Psalm 16:11, "In your presence there is fullness of joy, in your right hand are pleasures for evermore' (16:11). God is after us to give us what is best—not prestige, wealth, or even health in this life, but a full-blown vision of and fellowship with himself." So, to sum it up: God is in control. He loves us. He works for his glory. His glory will bring us the deepest, 

most satisfying joy. So what's should our focus be? What's the end to adoption? Is it the child? I think that we most of the time think it is, or should be. But, maybe our focus needs to be on pursuing our relationship with God, and his will. What does that even mean? Well, right now it means going to Him with our hurt. It means trusting that even though this baby wasn't to be ours, we know that He will be faithful our bringing our baby home. And when he does, well, there will be praise to be sung that day!

But, it's Wednesday, and on Tuesday we found out again over lunch that the adoption was pretty much 100% over. Since you read through that big previous paragraph, you know that the LORD was faithful to comfort our hearts with His truth. So, on Wednesday, Maria went to IKEA for some retail therapy with her Mom and sister, and I stayed home while the boys were napping. Somewhere between reading soccer news and watching The Expendables on Netflix, the reality of this whole thing really started to settle in on me. I began to let my heart out of the fortress of theological truth to really start to feel the weight of this loss. The previous day, Maria and I talked about how Jesus wept over his friend's death, wept the night before his crucifixion, about Job's reaction to all of what befell him, and now it was my turn. But, I was in good company. The weight and effects of sin in this scenario and how it was going to affect my almost-son throughout his life was more than my heart could handle. While Maria was coming home, I was getting our charcoal grill ready for dinner. I sat in front of the random charcoal smoke, drank a beer, and prayed - trying to understand God's plan in this, even down to the smoke coming from the charcoal. But, it's useless trying to figure out these kind of things. So, tears it was, even though I didn't understand, I trust my God who has given me everything, who is everything. 

Thursday, I thought, would be my day to go back to work. By the time I had my clothes on, ready to walk out the door, I knew that having to relive all this at work was a little too real, too fast for my heart. Emotionally unstable is not part of my job description. The rest of Thursday was great! Maria and I had a run/walk/talk again, and were able to process even more together. And even though my legs are still sore, I'm thankful for having such a faithful, mature, and beautiful woman for my wife. 

Friday. Oh, Friday. Yeah, Friday was tattoo day. Maybe that'll be another post. Let's just say Psalm 91:4 was involved. 

Saturday and Sunday were full family days. Days where we tried to get back into the swing of our crazy family as it is right now: coffee, guitars, dinosaurs, lightsabers, Target, Grand-parents, dinner at my boss's house, Redbox, Hulu. We even bought a zoo! Not really, we just went to one, but it was still fun!

And here I am again on Sunday. I'm so thankful for our family, church family, and friends who have been so supportive over this past week. I praise God for his providence in putting all of you my family's life. The prayers for us over this week have been felt more than I can ever remember. I look forward to looking back on this post once our child is home, and praising His name again! 

Now, where's that nothing box...

Today

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.

Rom 8:26