Adoption: Deflated not defeated

About two months ago I found myself chasing hope with faith mixed with a splash of self preservation as we awaited the news of a possible match with a birth mom.

At first I was calm and guarded as I was bombarded with all the memories of being here before and how they turned out. 

"Yeah right, been here done that..." followed by hope whispering "this could be it..." 

 

I sat alone in the nursery thinking of all the hopes and dreams we have for the baby that will one day fill it. I reminisced a bit and couldn't help but to think, I shouldn't tell anyone, not even my husband. Disappointment lurks so closely to this journey and I couldn't disappoint him again. I went back and fourth with myself until my phone rang and I heard my loves voice on the other end. Before he could get out what he needed to say, I was a flood of emotions, word vomiting everywhere and telling him what had just happened.

So much for that idea...

Like always his response was calm, collective and grounding. I found my way back to the office and attempted to study.....yeah right. I must have read over the same case study 12 times before realizing focusing on it just wasn't going to happen. I closed my books, bowed my head and prayed.....for myself. Something I haven't done in a very long time but that's a blog for another day. For the first time in a while I prayed for what I wanted. I asked for this to be it and told God I would pack her bags. That was going to be my act of faith. 

Stepping in to the nursery my phone rang again. My husband was on the other end but this time he was word vomiting.

"This is it baby! I can't explain it! I've never felt like this before. This is it!" 

(Note to self: be strong for the both of you Trina)

I spent the next two hours packing bags & resting in Paul's advice from Philippians. Fighting every doubtful thought that was thrown my way and fighting to believe this was our turn....finally.

The hours drug along and before I knew it it was 3am and I needed sleep. Well, at least to try and sleep. The very thought of waking up to a call my hearts waited for was enough to keep me awake not wanting to miss a moment. I made sure my phone ringer was as loud as it could possibly be, right next to my head and in reaching distant.

My alarm clock was this cute little St. Bernard named Emma Kate that likes to wake momma up at 6am by laying on her, barking at her head and giving sugars. The three hours of sleep I got was enough to get me through the day until we learned communication had ceased and we weren't bringing home our baby bumble bee this Christmas.

I found my heart laughing, "here we go again!" We've reached the peak of the roller coaster of emotions my heart is all to familiar with.....up next......the drop of my heart and tear stained cheeks. 

Brace for impact....

(Insert my screaming heart shaking heavens gates again)

When Sunday rolled around I had to force myself into church. Usually going to church is the easy part for me, but not this time. This time I was hurting really bad from this journey and praise just was not on my lips. All I had to offer was my very deflated angry heart. 

I sat in the back hoping to go unnoticed, that didn't work out to well with my husband being a part of the children's Christmas show. I put a smile on my face, even though I was holding back tears. I got wrapped in love more times than I could count and for the first time, when asked "how are you?" I didn't think of the burden it would cause to say "I'm not okay." It just kind of came out and I was embraced with love and reminders that we're being prayed for. 

I showed up with my deflated heart for the first time ever and let the world know, I'm not doing so good. I was vulnerable and learned sometimes you just need a hug to help you put the pieces back together. 

There is victory in vulnerability friends.

I wiped my eyes and thanked God for waterproof mascara as I laughed and smiled watching our church kids dance and sing and my husband make a complete fool of himself. I remember thinking, "this is what life is about." This moment! Being present. Deflated and all. Showing up even when it hurts and finding that last breath of air to profess my very broken hallelujah because God hears those too. 

  

It wasn't our time & that's alright.

I'm not defeated just a bit deflated and that's okay too because suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character and character produces hope. 

(Pretty sure I should be Iron man by now or at LEAST Wonder Woman )

I'm learning that I'm not immune to the human experience this side of heaven and I may feel hard pressed on all sides but it's in these "gifts" of difficult seasons God grows in my weak heart. If you look through your Jesus goggles hard enough you might just find the beauty in being broken. There is ALWAYS room for faith filled direction friends, so excuse me while I take some time to own the "gift" of this difficult season and learn a few things for the mom after me. 

After all its Gods story for me and nothing is by chance️

ONWARD Christian Soldier.....ONWARD!