It's a couple hours past my bedtime, and I'm wide awake. Finally got out of bed so my tossing and turning wouldn't bug the man of the house. This after a solid 30 minutes of tears and convo and prayer with him a few hours earlier. This after being reminded (yet again) that my guy is the best.
Adoption is hard. HARD. And we're not even really in the all out battle of it yet. Can I be honest with you all? I feel let down. Discouraged.
I thought people would be excited. I thought (maybe rather ignorantly) that we wouldn't have the silly/stupid/hard/Lord, give me grace to answer kind of questions or flippant reactions. I didn't think we would be dealing with racism and prejudices. I really didn't. I expected one or two hesitant yet happy reactions and that the rest would be ecstatic for us and for children who are fatherless (read that and really let it sink it) that are about to receive a home.
Can I be honest? I told Nick in tears tonight that I don't even want to talk about it anymore. I don't want to tell anymore people. I don't want to think about breaking it to a newer church body and people we are just forming relationships with. I don't want to think about conversations that are going to happen with the people who have already shown less than enthusiasm at our big news. I don't want to go to such and such gathering and be subjected to more less than gracious questions or comments. Maybe this will pass. I'm praying it does.
But if I'm being completely honest, let me tell you something else. Not only do less than kind questions or comments sting, but so does what you don't say. Sometimes more than the unkind words.
People who I know would be the first to hug us, congratulate us, like our announcement on Facebook, send us a text and so on to be excited along with us if we were pregnant are silent. That silence is deafening. And insulting. More than I can tell you. These are the people who would be the first to want to keep up with you during your pregnancy, to help you out on a rough day, offer a word of encouragement here and there, bring a meal post delivery, comment on all your pregnancy bump and then baby pictures. Yet they say nothing now. They seem to become chameleon-like and blend into the surroundings.
It hurts. I know I sound like I'm not happy with how anyone is reacting. Like when people do talk they say the wrong things, and when they don't speak I wish they would make their presence known. I don't want the reactions or lack thereof to steal my joy. Yet it is. I can count on less than 5 fingers the people I have talked with face to face who seem genuinely over the moon happy for us. One of them is my husband.
Somewhere out there is a boy or girl or both that already has a piece of my heart. And that piece is growing more each and every day. I can't see them, touch them, talk with them, or even know what is going in their lives. They aren't growing and developing in my womb, but they are growing in my heart at a rapid pace. A heart that feels like it isn't even at home in my body anymore.
The fact is God already knows who these children are. He knows He is going to allow us to raise them. They are His, but we will be His instruments. We'll get to make some awesome memories, laugh and cry, hurt and heal, hug and fight, and hopefully make disciples for Him. Through it all we will be a family.
Cry and laugh alongside us. Pray for us. Rejoice with us.
*hugs* Praying for you, sweet friend, that you would have grace and patience for those around you, including myself, who are in uncharted territory - unsure of what to say, how to support, and struggle immensely to understand the adoption process. You are a brave soldier in a new world, tackling hurdles most of us haven't even heard of much less experienced. You are showing so many around you what adoption IS: what it looks like, what it feels like, what is truly behind the scenes. I've never realized what all has to happen in order to get to the point of holding a sweet child in your arms. You are teaching me so so much. So remember and be encouraged that sometimes - though not always - what 'we' don't say is what we don't know. Silence isn't always disinterest or disapproval, silence can also be waiting, watching, learning how to respond with the right words and at the right time.
ReplyDeleteGod has uniquely woven this beautiful love into your hearts and I am so excited to see what masterpiece he is creating with your family. I cannot wait to meet your kiddos. I cannot wait to watch you grow tremendously on this journey. Thank you for letting me get a glimpse of what you are going through, so that I might better pray for you. Please don't misunderstand my lack of understanding as being disinterest or disapproval. And whatever you do, don't let the actions and words of others rob you of your joy and your passion... Those are two things your children need most from you.
Love you
I probably came across much 'harsher' than I intended and lumping
ReplyDeleteeveryone into one of two camps. There are definitely those who fit
neither, these are just the ones that we are facing right now. I know
there are several who have expressed excitement via Facebook etc. I am
largely talking about those we have spoken with in person, on the phone,
and such. I don't expect everyone to have something to say- that would
just be pride on my part, too. I do struggle too much with wanting
others' approval and know this is going to be something the Lord is
going to have to continue to work on in my life as we go through. I also
know that silence doesn't always mean lack of excitement or
misunderstanding and appreciate your reminder of this. I can understand and even appreciate those who aren't too quick to speak, but are watching and learning.
Trust me, being slow to speak is a great trait to have and one I am sure
I will appreciate even more throughout this journey. Now, don't be
silent... give me your real name, not just watermelon ;-)