A few weeks ago Mark got a call from one of the pastors at our church asking if he and I could do the reading and candle lighting for the first Sunday of Advent. Our instructions were to read a passage from the book of Isaiah, add a “personal touch”, say a prayer and light the candle.
Sunday morning before church we decided to study the passage in more depth. We happen to have a nice thick commentary on Isaiah (by J. Alec Motyer, from IVP), so we took it out for some ideas. The commentary describes the remnant of Israel as a “people of hope.” It says of them, “For the present they know that God is with them; for the future they await the day when the hiding of his face is past and the pledges inherent in Isaiah and his sons and in Zion are fulfilled.”
I loved that image—God with us in the waiting and disappointment, and the hope that his promises will be fulfilled in the future. The connection to our own waiting seemed obvious, so we decided to share about our adoption journey. We talked about how we have learned to wait with hope, which is what Advent is all about. We re-live Israel’s experience of waiting for the Messiah, and also look forward to when Jesus will come again. Although it may feel like we are living in darkness, we live in the hope of God’s promises, and know that he is with us in the waiting.
The connection I had made to the passage we were assigned had to do with how we have experienced God in our longing and disappointment, and how we are hopeful that His promises to us will be fulfilled. It wasn’t until later, after church, that I made what may have been the more obvious connection—the passage we were reading was Isaiah 9:1-7. Verse 6 says, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given…”
The first Sunday of Advent was five days before we got the phone call letting us know we will be adopting a son in February. There was much rejoicing the following Sunday in church when our pastor asked us to share our good news with the congregation. God’s promises are being fulfilled!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Matched!
There's still a lot to tell about how Mark and I got to this point on our journey of adoption. I was planning to tell things in chronological order, but we're still living in the middle of the story, and things are happening.
On Friday, we got The Phone Call. We have now officially been "matched" with a baby! We are thrilled--if all goes well we will be bringing home a baby boy sometime in February. (I guess we were wrong about the pink blanket...)
I am still planning to go back and tell about the last 10 months or so, but I couldn't wait to share the news.
On Friday, we got The Phone Call. We have now officially been "matched" with a baby! We are thrilled--if all goes well we will be bringing home a baby boy sometime in February. (I guess we were wrong about the pink blanket...)
I am still planning to go back and tell about the last 10 months or so, but I couldn't wait to share the news.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Blessed Are the Barren
When people find out we are adopting, they often ask why. Probably, what they really want to know is, "Aren't you able to have your own children?" I feel conflicted about this question, and the assumed/implied curiosity about our fertility. I know that I have asked the same question of others who have adopted--even if I wasn't brave enough to actually ask the question, I have wondered to myself.
I don't really mind telling people our story. I'm a pretty open person, so I'm almost always comfortable telling people that, although doctors have not found a reason for it, we haven't been able to conceive naturally or with some medical help. But I can't say that's the answer to the question, "Why are you adopting?"
When I get this question I tend to assume (perhaps wrongly) that the person is asking because they feel that adoption is a second-best option, a last resort. Obviously if we could conceive a child we wouldn't be choosing to adopt, right? I find this especially difficult when it is Christians who seem to send that vibe. I wish that adoption was more in the forefront of the Church--that it was seen as a normal way to build a family
More than a year into our "infertility" problems, a friend of mine gave me an article from Christianity Today called "Blessed Are the Barren." It was the cover story of that issue, and the picture on the cover was a bit...uncomfortable. It was a leafless tree with twisted limbs stretched out like arms, and a woman's head growing between them out of the trunk . The article itself was pretty provocative and, at times, quite harsh. The author has experienced barrenness herself, and describes it in very desolate terms: "We are a big mistake. We are an abomination in nature—we exist pointlessly because we cannot make more of our species. We are an abomination according to the charge of Genesis, because we cannot be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth. Our love does not bear fruit."
At the time that I read this article in late 2007 or early 2008, I still didn't like the idea of the word "infertility" applying to us (I still don't for that matter). We had been trying for more than two years, and, according to most things I've read, when the woman is younger than 35, you are considered infertile after one year of trying unsuccessfully to conceive. (Once you reach 35 the wait time for this distinguished title is only six months.) It didn't matter that nothing had been found medically wrong with either of us; we were, and still are, considered infertile.
In early 2008, we were getting ready for our third round of IUI (for those of you not familiar with the world of fertility procedures, I'll let you do some research to learn what IUI is). The monthly roller coaster of waiting to find out if I was pregnant was not easy. It got harder as more and more things didn't work. I have done some reading, and apparently we didn't even scratch the surface of the plethora of tests, drugs and procedures we could have tried. Thankfully (I am thankful for it now), my HMO had a pretty standard protocol for infertility treatment, the trade-off being affordability. This last round of IUI was our last affordable medical option.
At the end of January, after this last procedure didn't work, we decided to take the next month off. We even figured we wouldn't talk about what our next step might be; we were just taking a break. Looking back on it now, I guess God had other ideas for our February.
At some point during all this I asked Mark to read "Blessed Are the Barren." He only made it through the first couple of pages. I was able to ask Mark to read it because I had gotten past the bleak beginning and on to the redemption. This article in many ways answers the question for me, "Why are you adopting?" I have wanted to adopt since before I was married, and I appreciated this article because it articulated some profound spiritual ideas about adoption. I hope you will read it. Our story isn't quite the same as the author's, but there was a lot in there I could relate to. Mark and I still might conceive a child biologically. There was a lot more we could have tried medically. But the fact is, we didn't want to wait for that to happen, or spend a lot more money hoping that medicine could help the process along. Instead we decided to experience the miracle of adoption.
How we actually came to that decision and started that process will be the next chapter to this story. In the meantime, check out "Blessed Are the Barren."
I don't really mind telling people our story. I'm a pretty open person, so I'm almost always comfortable telling people that, although doctors have not found a reason for it, we haven't been able to conceive naturally or with some medical help. But I can't say that's the answer to the question, "Why are you adopting?"
When I get this question I tend to assume (perhaps wrongly) that the person is asking because they feel that adoption is a second-best option, a last resort. Obviously if we could conceive a child we wouldn't be choosing to adopt, right? I find this especially difficult when it is Christians who seem to send that vibe. I wish that adoption was more in the forefront of the Church--that it was seen as a normal way to build a family
More than a year into our "infertility" problems, a friend of mine gave me an article from Christianity Today called "Blessed Are the Barren." It was the cover story of that issue, and the picture on the cover was a bit...uncomfortable. It was a leafless tree with twisted limbs stretched out like arms, and a woman's head growing between them out of the trunk . The article itself was pretty provocative and, at times, quite harsh. The author has experienced barrenness herself, and describes it in very desolate terms: "We are a big mistake. We are an abomination in nature—we exist pointlessly because we cannot make more of our species. We are an abomination according to the charge of Genesis, because we cannot be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth. Our love does not bear fruit."
At the time that I read this article in late 2007 or early 2008, I still didn't like the idea of the word "infertility" applying to us (I still don't for that matter). We had been trying for more than two years, and, according to most things I've read, when the woman is younger than 35, you are considered infertile after one year of trying unsuccessfully to conceive. (Once you reach 35 the wait time for this distinguished title is only six months.) It didn't matter that nothing had been found medically wrong with either of us; we were, and still are, considered infertile.
In early 2008, we were getting ready for our third round of IUI (for those of you not familiar with the world of fertility procedures, I'll let you do some research to learn what IUI is). The monthly roller coaster of waiting to find out if I was pregnant was not easy. It got harder as more and more things didn't work. I have done some reading, and apparently we didn't even scratch the surface of the plethora of tests, drugs and procedures we could have tried. Thankfully (I am thankful for it now), my HMO had a pretty standard protocol for infertility treatment, the trade-off being affordability. This last round of IUI was our last affordable medical option.
At the end of January, after this last procedure didn't work, we decided to take the next month off. We even figured we wouldn't talk about what our next step might be; we were just taking a break. Looking back on it now, I guess God had other ideas for our February.
At some point during all this I asked Mark to read "Blessed Are the Barren." He only made it through the first couple of pages. I was able to ask Mark to read it because I had gotten past the bleak beginning and on to the redemption. This article in many ways answers the question for me, "Why are you adopting?" I have wanted to adopt since before I was married, and I appreciated this article because it articulated some profound spiritual ideas about adoption. I hope you will read it. Our story isn't quite the same as the author's, but there was a lot in there I could relate to. Mark and I still might conceive a child biologically. There was a lot more we could have tried medically. But the fact is, we didn't want to wait for that to happen, or spend a lot more money hoping that medicine could help the process along. Instead we decided to experience the miracle of adoption.
How we actually came to that decision and started that process will be the next chapter to this story. In the meantime, check out "Blessed Are the Barren."
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
How It Started
Some of you tuning in to this blog might not know how Mark and I have gotten to this point in our adoption journey. It’s a story worth telling, because it reminds me that God has been a part of this process and He will finish it. It can be hard to keep that in mind when there’s no news and all we can do is wait. I’ll tell it in small chunks so the posts don’t get too long. First: our decision to start trying to have a baby.
Three years ago, Mark and I started talking about wanting to have children. Because of job uncertainties and such, we weren’t sure if it was wise to start trying at that point, so we committed to praying every day for thirty days, asking God if now was the time. On a Sunday morning, the last of the thirty days, we talked at breakfast about the decision. We decided that, even though we hadn’t heard any direct word from God, we wanted a baby, so that was probably a sign in itself that we were ready.
We went to church that morning feeling good about our decision. At the “greet your neighbor” portion of the service, a friend of ours came up to us and, out of nowhere, asked, “So, when’s the baby due?”
We just stared at him. This friend had no idea we were considering having a baby. He said that when he walked in to church and looked at us that morning, he saw me holding a baby in a pink blanket (this is one of the reasons why I have thought our first baby would be a girl). He said he “saw babies all over” us. We didn’t know what to say, but one of us finally told him that we had just finished a month of asking God each day if now was the time to start a family. Kevin said, “God’s saying yes—have a baby and keep on having them.”
We figured we didn’t need any more confirmation than that.
We were pretty amazed, but we did take this whole thing with some caution. We knew that this might not mean we would conceive right away. I was preparing myself for a little bit of a wait. But after two years of no birth control, temperature taking and trying to time things right, we were still waiting. So we decided it was time to look into next steps.
Three years ago, Mark and I started talking about wanting to have children. Because of job uncertainties and such, we weren’t sure if it was wise to start trying at that point, so we committed to praying every day for thirty days, asking God if now was the time. On a Sunday morning, the last of the thirty days, we talked at breakfast about the decision. We decided that, even though we hadn’t heard any direct word from God, we wanted a baby, so that was probably a sign in itself that we were ready.
We went to church that morning feeling good about our decision. At the “greet your neighbor” portion of the service, a friend of ours came up to us and, out of nowhere, asked, “So, when’s the baby due?”
We just stared at him. This friend had no idea we were considering having a baby. He said that when he walked in to church and looked at us that morning, he saw me holding a baby in a pink blanket (this is one of the reasons why I have thought our first baby would be a girl). He said he “saw babies all over” us. We didn’t know what to say, but one of us finally told him that we had just finished a month of asking God each day if now was the time to start a family. Kevin said, “God’s saying yes—have a baby and keep on having them.”
We figured we didn’t need any more confirmation than that.
We were pretty amazed, but we did take this whole thing with some caution. We knew that this might not mean we would conceive right away. I was preparing myself for a little bit of a wait. But after two years of no birth control, temperature taking and trying to time things right, we were still waiting. So we decided it was time to look into next steps.
He Sets the Lonely in Families
(written September 7, 2008)
I had a great time in Logan this weekend. Mark and I went down to attend a reception for a good friend of mine from high school (she was married in Seattle last month and had a reception in Logan for people who couldn’t make it out west). I kept thinking that I wanted to write a post about the weekend for my blog, even though it wasn’t really related to adoption stuff. But after thinking about it for a while, I realized it isn’t as unrelated as I thought.
A verse kept coming to mind today on our way home. “God sets the lonely in families”. This has been remarkably true for me, in every stage of my life, pretty much ever since my dad left. In junior high I had some friends with whom I really connected. They “got me”, at a time when I really needed to be got. I lost touch with them after I moved away in 8th grade, but in the last year have sort of reconnected through Facebook. One of those friends even said to me when she found me on FB that I was someone she just couldn’t get out of her head. There was a connection that seems pretty rare for a couple of junior high kids who haven’t really kept in touch in the last 20 years.
That move from Virginia to Ohio in junior high was extremely difficult for me. But, again, God provided abundantly. For one thing there was family—my grandparents and aunt and uncle took in my mom and siblings and me for a few months until my mom could get on her feet, and that is something I will always be grateful for. But God went even beyond that. My mom was at that time in school to become a nurse and was working as much as she could, and my siblings were responding in their own ways to the upheaval we had all undergone. I was pretty lonely. But I got involved in the youth group at my grandma’s church. There were about 10-15 of us who spent weekends at the Hayward’s cabin, went whitewater rafting in Pennsylvania, attended summer camp at Geneva Hills, and met together on Sunday mornings to talk about, among other things, what it meant to be Presbyterian. Several of us ended up on the track and cross country teams together, or performing in the high school musicals. Although there was still a lot of teen angst going on for me at the time, for the first time in my life I felt like I finally belonged.
I saw several of those friends this weekend. It was wonderful. I have kept in touch with some of them to varying degrees over the last 15 years. Repeatedly, I have the experience of getting together with those friends, maybe for the first time in 6 months or 2 years or 5 years, and it seems like no time has passed. I know we have changed a lot—we have moved to far-off places and gotten married and come out and had kids, finished graduate school and switched careers, and I’m sure we have matured and changed our views on faith and values (and what it means to be or not to be Presbyterian). But there is still something that stays exactly the same. It has to be something beyond just the fact that we’ve known each other for so long and have so much history. I haven’t talked to too many other people who have such a connection with friends from high school. It truly seems supernatural.
I see this as God’s way of setting me in a family. My own family was going through some serious struggle, so these friends, and even their parents to some extent, became a surrogate family for me. (Many of my friends’ parents were at the reception, and they gave me hugs and said how good it was to see me and reminisced about experiences from my high school days that I can’t even remember—I felt so known and loved). Maybe each of us in that youth group had some special need for a surrogate family, so God brought us all together. Seeing those friends is always such a blessing.
As I look back, I can see that I have not been without these kinds of families since those youth group days. I sometimes complain about my “lack of community”, but these experiences have just led me to have high expectations. In college there were my fellow-WCFers, after college there were my InterVarsity staff colleagues, and when I left IV I married into a wonderful family—and whether I move far away or switch jobs, that one will be as permanent as my own family. God’s abundance is amazing.
So as I think about all this, I am reminded that it is God’s plan to place a baby who doesn’t even know she is lonely yet into our family. There are so many people, besides me and Mark, who, I know, can’t wait to meet her. I hope that she always has that sense of belonging that I have gained with my own “adoptive” families—with me and Mark, her grandparents and cousins, and all of these people out there whose friendships I treasure more than anything else.
I had a great time in Logan this weekend. Mark and I went down to attend a reception for a good friend of mine from high school (she was married in Seattle last month and had a reception in Logan for people who couldn’t make it out west). I kept thinking that I wanted to write a post about the weekend for my blog, even though it wasn’t really related to adoption stuff. But after thinking about it for a while, I realized it isn’t as unrelated as I thought.
A verse kept coming to mind today on our way home. “God sets the lonely in families”. This has been remarkably true for me, in every stage of my life, pretty much ever since my dad left. In junior high I had some friends with whom I really connected. They “got me”, at a time when I really needed to be got. I lost touch with them after I moved away in 8th grade, but in the last year have sort of reconnected through Facebook. One of those friends even said to me when she found me on FB that I was someone she just couldn’t get out of her head. There was a connection that seems pretty rare for a couple of junior high kids who haven’t really kept in touch in the last 20 years.
That move from Virginia to Ohio in junior high was extremely difficult for me. But, again, God provided abundantly. For one thing there was family—my grandparents and aunt and uncle took in my mom and siblings and me for a few months until my mom could get on her feet, and that is something I will always be grateful for. But God went even beyond that. My mom was at that time in school to become a nurse and was working as much as she could, and my siblings were responding in their own ways to the upheaval we had all undergone. I was pretty lonely. But I got involved in the youth group at my grandma’s church. There were about 10-15 of us who spent weekends at the Hayward’s cabin, went whitewater rafting in Pennsylvania, attended summer camp at Geneva Hills, and met together on Sunday mornings to talk about, among other things, what it meant to be Presbyterian. Several of us ended up on the track and cross country teams together, or performing in the high school musicals. Although there was still a lot of teen angst going on for me at the time, for the first time in my life I felt like I finally belonged.
I saw several of those friends this weekend. It was wonderful. I have kept in touch with some of them to varying degrees over the last 15 years. Repeatedly, I have the experience of getting together with those friends, maybe for the first time in 6 months or 2 years or 5 years, and it seems like no time has passed. I know we have changed a lot—we have moved to far-off places and gotten married and come out and had kids, finished graduate school and switched careers, and I’m sure we have matured and changed our views on faith and values (and what it means to be or not to be Presbyterian). But there is still something that stays exactly the same. It has to be something beyond just the fact that we’ve known each other for so long and have so much history. I haven’t talked to too many other people who have such a connection with friends from high school. It truly seems supernatural.
I see this as God’s way of setting me in a family. My own family was going through some serious struggle, so these friends, and even their parents to some extent, became a surrogate family for me. (Many of my friends’ parents were at the reception, and they gave me hugs and said how good it was to see me and reminisced about experiences from my high school days that I can’t even remember—I felt so known and loved). Maybe each of us in that youth group had some special need for a surrogate family, so God brought us all together. Seeing those friends is always such a blessing.
As I look back, I can see that I have not been without these kinds of families since those youth group days. I sometimes complain about my “lack of community”, but these experiences have just led me to have high expectations. In college there were my fellow-WCFers, after college there were my InterVarsity staff colleagues, and when I left IV I married into a wonderful family—and whether I move far away or switch jobs, that one will be as permanent as my own family. God’s abundance is amazing.
So as I think about all this, I am reminded that it is God’s plan to place a baby who doesn’t even know she is lonely yet into our family. There are so many people, besides me and Mark, who, I know, can’t wait to meet her. I hope that she always has that sense of belonging that I have gained with my own “adoptive” families—with me and Mark, her grandparents and cousins, and all of these people out there whose friendships I treasure more than anything else.
Monday, June 23, 2008
What do Ozzy Osbourne and John McCain Have in Common?
Several months ago I was indulging in one of my guilty pleasures--looking at pictures of celebrities on msnbc.com. In honor of Father's Day, which was coming up, they had a slideshow of celebrity dads. I was quite surprised to see that of the 21 dads pictured, five of them were adoptive fathers.
Everyone probably knows of Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt. Sometimes when celebrities adopt I have to wonder how much of it is about publicity. (uh, Madonna?) But, after seeing that 20% of the celebrities in this slideshow had adopted children, I did a search to find out how many other less publicized celebrity adoptive families were out there. The website adoption.com had a list of celebrities who are adopted, have adopted or have placed children for adoption. Besides rocker Ozzy and presidential candidate McCain, the list of adoptive dads includes: Hugh Jackman, Al Roker, George Lucas, Steven Speilberg, Ted Danson, Magic Johnson, Sean "Diddy" Combs, Charles Bronson and Ronald Reagan.
Recently I've been thinking about the fact that adoption is so much more unusual than birth, and sometimes that can be difficult. I am often around pregnant women or new moms, and they usually end up talking about pregnancy, or childbirth, or nursing, or things that I might not ever experience. I don’t usually mind those conversations, up to a point, but I do often wish there was someone in the room with whom I could have a conversation about my different experience of “expecting.”
I thought it was great that on Father’s Day MSNBC decided to highlight adoptive dads. It made me feel a little less lonely and misunderstood, I guess. I often feel so abnormal when I’m around parents who have had children through pregnancy and birth. I’m not sure what this says about me, but I felt a little less abnormal because pop culture, through MSNBC's entertainment section, had acknowledged and celebrated adoption by posting that slideshow.
Everyone probably knows of Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt. Sometimes when celebrities adopt I have to wonder how much of it is about publicity. (uh, Madonna?) But, after seeing that 20% of the celebrities in this slideshow had adopted children, I did a search to find out how many other less publicized celebrity adoptive families were out there. The website adoption.com had a list of celebrities who are adopted, have adopted or have placed children for adoption. Besides rocker Ozzy and presidential candidate McCain, the list of adoptive dads includes: Hugh Jackman, Al Roker, George Lucas, Steven Speilberg, Ted Danson, Magic Johnson, Sean "Diddy" Combs, Charles Bronson and Ronald Reagan.
Recently I've been thinking about the fact that adoption is so much more unusual than birth, and sometimes that can be difficult. I am often around pregnant women or new moms, and they usually end up talking about pregnancy, or childbirth, or nursing, or things that I might not ever experience. I don’t usually mind those conversations, up to a point, but I do often wish there was someone in the room with whom I could have a conversation about my different experience of “expecting.”
I thought it was great that on Father’s Day MSNBC decided to highlight adoptive dads. It made me feel a little less lonely and misunderstood, I guess. I often feel so abnormal when I’m around parents who have had children through pregnancy and birth. I’m not sure what this says about me, but I felt a little less abnormal because pop culture, through MSNBC's entertainment section, had acknowledged and celebrated adoption by posting that slideshow.
Pre-loved
So much has happened in the last few months already that I wish I had started an adoption blog back in April. Or March. Or maybe even last summer. The journey up to this point has been a bit bumpy, but there is a lot to tell, and it's clear that God has had His hand in it. I'll just have to catch you all up as we go.
The blog's title comes from a talk given by Ken Fong at Urbana 2000 (InterVarsity's national missions conference). It stuck with me as a beautiful illustration of God's plan for adoption. It is based on Ephesians chapter 1 where Paul says that God chose us and predestined us to be adopted as his sons. Ken discusses the legal understanding of adoption from a Hebrew, Greek and Roman perspective, and describes which perspective Paul was coming from. Throughout the talk he intersperses his own story of adopting his daughter.
To really catch the impact of this word "pre-loved", you need to watch Ken's talk. You can click here to get to Urbana's webpage with a link to the video of the talk. It is rather long (about 30 minutes), but if you fast forward and skip the first 12 minutes you'll get to the most relevant stuff. I wish I could find a transcript, but it is more powerful seeing the video--especially at the end when Ken's wife brings their daughter up on stage.
Mark and I know that God has a child for us. I could be wrong, and we're open to whatever, but I kind of think it will be a girl. She most likely hasn't been born yet, and quite possibly hasn't even been conceived. Friends and family have been praying with us for that child for months. She is pre-loved. We can't wait to meet her.
The blog's title comes from a talk given by Ken Fong at Urbana 2000 (InterVarsity's national missions conference). It stuck with me as a beautiful illustration of God's plan for adoption. It is based on Ephesians chapter 1 where Paul says that God chose us and predestined us to be adopted as his sons. Ken discusses the legal understanding of adoption from a Hebrew, Greek and Roman perspective, and describes which perspective Paul was coming from. Throughout the talk he intersperses his own story of adopting his daughter.
To really catch the impact of this word "pre-loved", you need to watch Ken's talk. You can click here to get to Urbana's webpage with a link to the video of the talk. It is rather long (about 30 minutes), but if you fast forward and skip the first 12 minutes you'll get to the most relevant stuff. I wish I could find a transcript, but it is more powerful seeing the video--especially at the end when Ken's wife brings their daughter up on stage.
Mark and I know that God has a child for us. I could be wrong, and we're open to whatever, but I kind of think it will be a girl. She most likely hasn't been born yet, and quite possibly hasn't even been conceived. Friends and family have been praying with us for that child for months. She is pre-loved. We can't wait to meet her.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)