As often happens when I get on Amazon or go to the grocery store, I went to buy one book and ended up with two. The second book is titled Seven Spiritual Gifts of Waiting by Holly Whitcomb, its been around for about 10 years but I just found it today. Perhaps I found it because hubby and I are in that space, the waiting space. And there is so much to learn in this space, as I have written previously here and here and a few other spots on this blog. I decided to read the book immediately...no patience here :-)
Whitcomb argues that:
We need to actively participate in this dramatic
conversion from waiting as something to be endured to waiting as a gift.
Ahem...I try hard to think of waiting positively, but honestly, mostly I feel it is a test of endurance. Whitcomb talks about seven ways that waiting is a gift: it teaches us patience, loss of control, living in the present, compassion, gratitude, humility and trust in God. I read the first chapter on the gift of patience that comes from waiting, let it soak in, and reflected on how waiting to adopt has been teaching me patience.
Whitcomb explains the gift of patience thus:
When we have to wait without knowing the
answers, without knowing what's ahead, we are nudged into a new perspective.
Waiting without immediate solutions presents us with an opportunity to lean into
the unknowing, to let go of the false promise of a quick fix, and to grow in
patience. When we can embrace the gift of patience that waiting offers, we can
trust beyond the moment.
Truthfully, though I cannot claim to be an expert on patience, I have learned a lot in the waiting space. I have definitely learned that, just because we are waiting does not mean being passive. I think at first I expected to just sit back and wait, and somehow a match would appear through our agency...alas, we needed to be more actively involved in our waiting. A few weeks ago, I finally set up our Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/FaithChasAdopt opening up a new avenue to communicate with others. One of the results of that was a contact from an expectant mom who is considering adoption, and though there is no match yet, it served as a source of hope that the Facebook page is contributing to our outreach productively.
Just over a month ago, I also set up our fundraising site on YouCaring compelled by the discovery that the costs will likely be above what we had expected. That site has raised over 2000 dollars of the 15K we are hoping to raise. And, it has been a tremendous lesson in humility and expansive patience - the willingness to be vulnerable and share with our wider community.
This past week, we have learned about various interesting situations arising out of our outreach efforts: one involving 5 children under 6 years of age in Florida that both broke our hearts and encouraged us as we saw 9 families willing and able to adopt all those children together; another involving two boys under 2 years of age that we couldn't apply for because the adoptive parents have to live within the state of Florida. While none of these situations could work for us, this week I felt my hope rising, I saw this active patience beginning to bear fruits. I learned that patience means staying with it, living through it, and listening intently to what God might be saying through it all.
So, I am grateful for the gifts of waiting, for the patience that is growing in me. I am grateful for the testimony that waiting can indeed be a gift to me and to those sharing this journey with us. In the fullness of time, I know that God will come through for us, and we will become parents. In the meantime, I will
"be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond" Rumi
Wont you wait actively patiently with me and my hubby?
Patiently, Faith
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Waiting [to Adopt] as a Platform for God's Grace
What happens to dreams, hopes, faith, when God's answer to a heartfelt prayer is a resounding NO?
The past few weeks have been interesting spiritually and emotionally, as the summer break wrapped up and the new academic year began, realizing that our adoption dream had still not come true. Granted, as our social worker reminded me the other day, waiting six months in the world of adoption is not long at all. However, when that waiting is preceded by a failed prior attempt at adoption, it feels like eternity!
So I found myself stressing out, even getting somewhat depressed as the new academic year started with not a rumor, not a single word about any potential matches. The closest we've come to any positive news is an 'adoption facilitation' agency that has been encouraging us to sign up with them, since they work with birth parents from around the country, they promise that we'd likely be matched fairly quickly. But the $19,500 sticker price for their service, that does not include lawyer fees, legal fees, transportation, or birth parent support just makes us feel discouraged. It means the adoption would cost close to $40K...one would think that domestic infant adoption would be less expensive than international adoption - but as we have realized, it isn't.
One weekend I was feeling so discouraged, so overwhelmed, so down in the dumps, so hope-depleted that it felt like darkness was threatening to descend on my otherwise sunny disposition :-( I pulled through, but it was also an opportunity to think about how I'd respond if God's answer to all this is no. What if this adoption never happens? What if I am never a mother? What then?
In the midst of the darkness, I was talking with one of my friends about not wanting to blog, because I did not want to spread the sense of despondency to anyone reading my blog. But, she reminded me I needed to stay faithful and authentic, to talk about the ups and the downs. I will quote from my journal from September 4 that reflects what I was experiencing:
While I continue to walk in this space of not-yet-answered prayers, the space after the no-for-an-answer to my prior prayer for biological motherhood, the space of hoping that this time, God's answer is a resounding Yes...I have come to the conclusion that, whatever happens, I will be faithful. Whatever happens, whether I become a mother or remain childless, I will find my joy in spite of the circumstances, I will sing along with Habakkuk 3:17-19: though nothing goes right, yet I will rejoice in the God who gives me strength. And thanks to Mavuno Church series this month, I am reminded that unanswered prayer is the reality for many, the test is in remaining faithful. Pastor M reminds me that my weakness is my opportunity to experience God's strength. So here is to rejoicing in the waiting - the waiting to adopt, the waiting to find out what God's answer is, the waiting in hope.
Won't you wait with me?
The past few weeks have been interesting spiritually and emotionally, as the summer break wrapped up and the new academic year began, realizing that our adoption dream had still not come true. Granted, as our social worker reminded me the other day, waiting six months in the world of adoption is not long at all. However, when that waiting is preceded by a failed prior attempt at adoption, it feels like eternity!
So I found myself stressing out, even getting somewhat depressed as the new academic year started with not a rumor, not a single word about any potential matches. The closest we've come to any positive news is an 'adoption facilitation' agency that has been encouraging us to sign up with them, since they work with birth parents from around the country, they promise that we'd likely be matched fairly quickly. But the $19,500 sticker price for their service, that does not include lawyer fees, legal fees, transportation, or birth parent support just makes us feel discouraged. It means the adoption would cost close to $40K...one would think that domestic infant adoption would be less expensive than international adoption - but as we have realized, it isn't.
One weekend I was feeling so discouraged, so overwhelmed, so down in the dumps, so hope-depleted that it felt like darkness was threatening to descend on my otherwise sunny disposition :-( I pulled through, but it was also an opportunity to think about how I'd respond if God's answer to all this is no. What if this adoption never happens? What if I am never a mother? What then?
In the midst of the darkness, I was talking with one of my friends about not wanting to blog, because I did not want to spread the sense of despondency to anyone reading my blog. But, she reminded me I needed to stay faithful and authentic, to talk about the ups and the downs. I will quote from my journal from September 4 that reflects what I was experiencing:
Its weird
Being woken up by the crazy heavy storm
That shook the house down to its foundations
Attempting to break the windows
And pull the storm door right off its hinges
An apt reminder of the weekend that was
The storm that was raging in my soul
As I felt myself descend deeper and deeper into the darkness
As I felt myself get pulled down further and further from
hope
As I felt myself dragged away from joy and into despair
But you Lord
Just as with the storm that has now passed this area
Leaving the house intact
You allowed that storm to pass through my life
And calm is returning
The calm that reminds me that I am alive
That I am on this side of heaven
Where I will be buffeted by life's heavy burdens
Shaken by the thunder of despair and discouragement
Yet in the midst of it all
You remain the rock I hang onto and stand
The firm foundation that secures my house and hope
While I continue to walk in this space of not-yet-answered prayers, the space after the no-for-an-answer to my prior prayer for biological motherhood, the space of hoping that this time, God's answer is a resounding Yes...I have come to the conclusion that, whatever happens, I will be faithful. Whatever happens, whether I become a mother or remain childless, I will find my joy in spite of the circumstances, I will sing along with Habakkuk 3:17-19: though nothing goes right, yet I will rejoice in the God who gives me strength. And thanks to Mavuno Church series this month, I am reminded that unanswered prayer is the reality for many, the test is in remaining faithful. Pastor M reminds me that my weakness is my opportunity to experience God's strength. So here is to rejoicing in the waiting - the waiting to adopt, the waiting to find out what God's answer is, the waiting in hope.
Won't you wait with me?
Sunday, August 10, 2014
An Attitude of Gratitude
After four days of posting about three things I am grateful for on Facebook, I decided to bring my final posting to the blog. To ruminate on gratitude. The exercise involved 5 days of posting three things each day...what a great way to remind ourselves that there is indeed much to be grateful for.
I have owned a gratitude journal for quite a while, but I don't use it. Not because I don't practice gratitude, but because I choose to journal in one location. Most of my journal entries begin with what I am grateful for...though sometimes life's drama gets in the way of an attitude of gratitude and I find myself whining to my journal, complaining about this, that or the other.
So today I am grateful for a rest-filled weekend. After a harried two weeks involving travel and conference participation, I am just glad to take it easy this weekend. I am not always very disciplined about rest...but am learning. So I slept in, had a slow breakfast, and then just took it easy most of today.
As I have ruminated on the fact that we still have not been matched with birth parents so many months after our home-study was approved, I chose to be grateful, to find the silver lining in the waiting game. So rather than focus on the frustrations of waiting, I am looking towards what I have been able to accomplish this summer - because I had cancelled all my international trips while we had baby Zawadi at home, I found myself, for the first time in more than 8 years, not having to teach, change jobs/move or do long travel this summer. That meant I could push through some projects that needed focused attention, much harder to accomplish during the school year. So that's my silver lining...and am grateful for that. Off course I'd much rather have been enjoying being a new parent :-)
As the summer began, I was nervous about being able to fill up the Lorentzsen Center for Faith and Work program for the upcoming year. I'd started off being told 'no' by the first two people that I invited as speakers...and was quite afraid that the trend would continue. I am so grateful that there is a full program of luncheons and a final conference for the 2014-2015 school year, for all the many business people and organizational leaders I have interacted with this summer, and am looking forward to a great year! So am starting this new academic year off on a good note, a hope-filled heart, an attitude of gratitude.
In everything give thanks. For this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. (I Thessalonians 5:18)
I have owned a gratitude journal for quite a while, but I don't use it. Not because I don't practice gratitude, but because I choose to journal in one location. Most of my journal entries begin with what I am grateful for...though sometimes life's drama gets in the way of an attitude of gratitude and I find myself whining to my journal, complaining about this, that or the other.
So today I am grateful for a rest-filled weekend. After a harried two weeks involving travel and conference participation, I am just glad to take it easy this weekend. I am not always very disciplined about rest...but am learning. So I slept in, had a slow breakfast, and then just took it easy most of today.
 |
| Philly Skyline August 4, 2014 |
As I have ruminated on the fact that we still have not been matched with birth parents so many months after our home-study was approved, I chose to be grateful, to find the silver lining in the waiting game. So rather than focus on the frustrations of waiting, I am looking towards what I have been able to accomplish this summer - because I had cancelled all my international trips while we had baby Zawadi at home, I found myself, for the first time in more than 8 years, not having to teach, change jobs/move or do long travel this summer. That meant I could push through some projects that needed focused attention, much harder to accomplish during the school year. So that's my silver lining...and am grateful for that. Off course I'd much rather have been enjoying being a new parent :-)
 |
| Presenting a paper at the Academy of Management meeting, Philadelphia August 5th, 2014 |
In everything give thanks. For this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. (I Thessalonians 5:18)
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Still Waiting to Adopt
When we began this journey of domestic infant adoption, our adoption social worker told us it could move pretty fast because we are black/African-American parents looking to adopt a black/African-American baby. Apparently, there are not as many non-black parents willing to adopt black babies. And there aren't enough black parents in the system. A few days later, we had a baby girl at home; a beautiful black baby girl. And two weeks later, we experienced every adoptive parent's worst nightmare - a reclaim.
That was March 24, 2014. The whole process from learning about the expectant birth mother, to taking baby home, to the reclaim took less than 3 weeks. Talk about drama! We loved that baby girl. We miss her daily.
After Zawadi was reclaimed, we came back home empty handed and heavy hearted, experiencing this weird, strange kind of grief at the loss of our hopes and dreams of growing our family, desperately missing our little baby girl. The grief was multiplied as the reclaim scratched old wounds - the wounds of infertility and miscarriage. But as people of strong faith, we found our footing again. And told our adoption worker we wanted to go on with the process, we wanted to remain on the list to adopt.
We are about to enter the month of July, my birthday month - am a fourth of July baby! I should be excited about my upcoming birthday. Instead, I find myself feeling ambivalent about it, and sad that I am getting a year older and still, motherhood continues to elude me. We celebrated our anniversary in May, and that too was very understated. Even sad.
This week, our hardworking adoption worker emailed asking whether she could share this blog with a family that had just experienced a reclaim. I said off course, its a blog in the public domain, its supposed to be shared...I went to that family's blog and read about their reclaim. They had their baby for two days before he was reclaimed. They had all these beautiful pictures of their almost son, the nursery, their family - it scratched my healing wound. And reminded me that we, the Ngunjiri-Nowlin family are not alone. There are many others across this nation who are walking this path, waiting, hoping and praying. We are not alone. My heart breaks for this family whose pain is so raw, I pray that they will heal and keep the hope alive.
I am also reminded we are not alone because we have family and friends across the world praying, waiting and hoping with us.
As I try to energize and motivate myself to prepare the nursery - our initial placement happened so quickly we hadn't prepared the nursery; afterwards we didn't have the emotional energy to do it - now I want to do it. I want to go in there and paint, convince hubby to set up the crib, etc. I want to walk in faith, to believe that this waiting shall come to a good end. While I wish that we'd been matched during the summer months, I have to remind myself that the timing is not up to me. The God who began a good work in us, that God will surely bring it to completion. Nothing is impossible with God...not even the intricacies of domestic infant adoption!
So here's to walking in faith, to nesting, to waiting in hope.
PS: If you are in the US, please feel free to share our story with those in your circles. You never know who might know about an expectant birth mother who could potentially be our match, or a black baby who is free to be adopted (we can adopt from anywhere in the US). You can contact us through the comments on this page (I get them first before they post on the page), or email me directly.
That was March 24, 2014. The whole process from learning about the expectant birth mother, to taking baby home, to the reclaim took less than 3 weeks. Talk about drama! We loved that baby girl. We miss her daily.
 | |
| I fell in love with Chas all over again as I watched him with Zawadi... | I yearn for him to experience fatherhood for life |
After Zawadi was reclaimed, we came back home empty handed and heavy hearted, experiencing this weird, strange kind of grief at the loss of our hopes and dreams of growing our family, desperately missing our little baby girl. The grief was multiplied as the reclaim scratched old wounds - the wounds of infertility and miscarriage. But as people of strong faith, we found our footing again. And told our adoption worker we wanted to go on with the process, we wanted to remain on the list to adopt.
We are about to enter the month of July, my birthday month - am a fourth of July baby! I should be excited about my upcoming birthday. Instead, I find myself feeling ambivalent about it, and sad that I am getting a year older and still, motherhood continues to elude me. We celebrated our anniversary in May, and that too was very understated. Even sad.
 |
| Faith and Chas hanging out in Utah during our anniversary week |
I am also reminded we are not alone because we have family and friends across the world praying, waiting and hoping with us.
As I try to energize and motivate myself to prepare the nursery - our initial placement happened so quickly we hadn't prepared the nursery; afterwards we didn't have the emotional energy to do it - now I want to do it. I want to go in there and paint, convince hubby to set up the crib, etc. I want to walk in faith, to believe that this waiting shall come to a good end. While I wish that we'd been matched during the summer months, I have to remind myself that the timing is not up to me. The God who began a good work in us, that God will surely bring it to completion. Nothing is impossible with God...not even the intricacies of domestic infant adoption!
So here's to walking in faith, to nesting, to waiting in hope.
PS: If you are in the US, please feel free to share our story with those in your circles. You never know who might know about an expectant birth mother who could potentially be our match, or a black baby who is free to be adopted (we can adopt from anywhere in the US). You can contact us through the comments on this page (I get them first before they post on the page), or email me directly.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
For Mothers in Waiting
This post has been stewing in my heart for several hours, as I see all the Facebook messages celebrating mothers, and recognize that I am not alone - I am not alone in this space of waiting. Even as we celebrate those who have mothered us - biological mothers, adoptive or foster mothers, othermothers, auntie-mamas - I am praying for you. I feel you, my sisters, known and unknown, as you wait for the gift of motherhood, hold on to hope. I am speaking to God the Mother (Isaiah 49:15; Psalms 131:2) on our behalf.
You know whom am thinking of
You see her right now
Celebrating her own mother
Yet yearning to be one herself
Dear God calm and quiet her soul
Like a weaned child with its mother
Comfort her
as a mother comforts her child
You know whom am praying for
You know her better than she knows herself
Because you knit her together in her mothers womb
Yet she waits to feel one growing in her own
Won't you come to her aid Mother God
Whether she is missing being a mother
Due to barrenness or miscarried babies
Or she is still waiting for a husband
With whom to make those babies
Won't you please hear her prayer
Sister in the struggle
Keep on hoping
Yet
While you occupy that space
Give yourself away
Love the motherless and the unmothered
Hug a child who needs to be comforted
Provide from the bounty of your blessings
Nurture and nourish the needy child near you
Sister in the struggle
Maybe a child from your own womb is not in your future
But that does not mean you cannot be a mother
So let not your heart be troubled
Give
Love
Hug
Provide
Nurture
Because motherhood is more than biology
Let your hands hold the one that God brings your way
Let your heart love the ones that comes into your life
Let your hurt be healed as you heal
The child, young or older
Whom God brings along your path
So happy hopeful mothers day
From one waiting mother to another.
You know whom am thinking of
You see her right now
Celebrating her own mother
Yet yearning to be one herself
Dear God calm and quiet her soul
Like a weaned child with its mother
Comfort her
as a mother comforts her child
You know whom am praying for
You know her better than she knows herself
Because you knit her together in her mothers womb
Yet she waits to feel one growing in her own
Won't you come to her aid Mother God
Whether she is missing being a mother
Due to barrenness or miscarried babies
Or she is still waiting for a husband
With whom to make those babies
Won't you please hear her prayer
Sister in the struggle
Keep on hoping
Yet
While you occupy that space
Give yourself away
Love the motherless and the unmothered
Hug a child who needs to be comforted
Provide from the bounty of your blessings
Nurture and nourish the needy child near you
Sister in the struggle
Maybe a child from your own womb is not in your future
But that does not mean you cannot be a mother
So let not your heart be troubled
Give
Love
Hug
Provide
Nurture
Because motherhood is more than biology
Let your hands hold the one that God brings your way
Let your heart love the ones that comes into your life
Let your hurt be healed as you heal
The child, young or older
Whom God brings along your path
So happy hopeful mothers day
From one waiting mother to another.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Faith & Chas Waiting to Adopt
The title I chose for this post reflects some of what we just learned in two days of adoption training - that we are supposed to be letting people in our circle know about our adoption plans, so that they would tell others, because apparently, many US domestic infant adoptions now happen through outreach. Adoption outreach involves all the activities that prospective adoptive parents engage in for the purpose of reaching out as potential resources for birth parents. According to those in the adoption field, it is important for adoptive parents to take an active role in reaching out through their network, using resources such as blogs, YouTube, Facebook, postcards, and such, to spread the news and essentially, 'market' themselves to birth parents.
Most of us at the adoption training felt uncomfortable about the idea of putting ourselves out there in this way. But the more the trainers talked about it, the more it made sense that, in this day and age, where we get jobs and even meet prospective partners (marital and otherwise) through networking and the internet, we would use similar pathways in the adoption journey. Essentially we could have our profile in a big book and hope that birth parents find us by walking into Lutheran Social Services of MN, or we could engage in outreach activities ourselves so we can feel like we are actively involved. Either way, "Waiting to Adopt" still captures the space we are living in right now.
With our failed adoption still so vivid though, "waiting to adopt" is not a comfortable space to occupy. Unlike everyone else in the room during those those two days, we have already experienced every adoptive parents worst nightmare - a failed adoption, or more correctly, a "reclaim". A reclaim is the term they use for babies who are taken back by their birth parents before final consents have been signed. In Minnesota, birth parents have 10 (working) days within which to change their minds. So we are waiting to adopt after a reclaim, with all the attendant fears and frustrations, hopes and aspirations. That reclaim stole our innocence.
After the training, I found myself feeling my hope was getting depleted. On the one hand, it is great to learn that there is something we can do, that we can engage in outreach in order to increase our chances of connecting with birth mothers. On the other hand, it still feels like waiting to adopt is a space where we adoptive parents have no control; we can do all manner of outreach, but in the end, we wait and wait for birth parents to find us or choose us.
At church today, I received just the jolt I needed to rejuvenate my hope. Pastor Jon Hauser of Prairie Heights Community Church preached about GREATNESS derived from Luke 1. Of the 8 lessons he derived from that chapter, this is what jumped out at me (from Luke 1:5-7):
Don't allow DIFFICULTIES and DISAPPOINTMENTS to define your greatness. God is waiting to DEFINE and REFINE your greatness during difficult times.
So today, I am reminded not to let the difficulty of the waiting to adopt space, or the disappointments of the failed adoption and the infertility that brought us here, dissuade me from believing in the promises of God. Zechariah and his wife were old and infertile too, but God came through for them eventually. Their son was born into greatness, having the awesome responsibility of heralding the coming Christ. So though waiting to adopt is an uncomfortable space to occupy, I aim to occupy it with hope, with faith that God will eventually come through on His promises. May this refiner's fire leave me purer, stronger, with even more faith than before this journey began.
Most of us at the adoption training felt uncomfortable about the idea of putting ourselves out there in this way. But the more the trainers talked about it, the more it made sense that, in this day and age, where we get jobs and even meet prospective partners (marital and otherwise) through networking and the internet, we would use similar pathways in the adoption journey. Essentially we could have our profile in a big book and hope that birth parents find us by walking into Lutheran Social Services of MN, or we could engage in outreach activities ourselves so we can feel like we are actively involved. Either way, "Waiting to Adopt" still captures the space we are living in right now.
With our failed adoption still so vivid though, "waiting to adopt" is not a comfortable space to occupy. Unlike everyone else in the room during those those two days, we have already experienced every adoptive parents worst nightmare - a failed adoption, or more correctly, a "reclaim". A reclaim is the term they use for babies who are taken back by their birth parents before final consents have been signed. In Minnesota, birth parents have 10 (working) days within which to change their minds. So we are waiting to adopt after a reclaim, with all the attendant fears and frustrations, hopes and aspirations. That reclaim stole our innocence.
After the training, I found myself feeling my hope was getting depleted. On the one hand, it is great to learn that there is something we can do, that we can engage in outreach in order to increase our chances of connecting with birth mothers. On the other hand, it still feels like waiting to adopt is a space where we adoptive parents have no control; we can do all manner of outreach, but in the end, we wait and wait for birth parents to find us or choose us.
At church today, I received just the jolt I needed to rejuvenate my hope. Pastor Jon Hauser of Prairie Heights Community Church preached about GREATNESS derived from Luke 1. Of the 8 lessons he derived from that chapter, this is what jumped out at me (from Luke 1:5-7):
Don't allow DIFFICULTIES and DISAPPOINTMENTS to define your greatness. God is waiting to DEFINE and REFINE your greatness during difficult times.
So today, I am reminded not to let the difficulty of the waiting to adopt space, or the disappointments of the failed adoption and the infertility that brought us here, dissuade me from believing in the promises of God. Zechariah and his wife were old and infertile too, but God came through for them eventually. Their son was born into greatness, having the awesome responsibility of heralding the coming Christ. So though waiting to adopt is an uncomfortable space to occupy, I aim to occupy it with hope, with faith that God will eventually come through on His promises. May this refiner's fire leave me purer, stronger, with even more faith than before this journey began.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Between Hope and Despair
It has been a month since our 'almost' adopted daughter was reclaimed by her birth mother. A month of living in the space between hope and despair. A month of also having a friend critically ill, then die within a week, but am too far to be of real comfort to those she's left behind. A month of realizing that I am rich in ways that money cannot buy, in friends who have called, sent text and Facebook messages, emails, and in many other ways let me know that they were thinking and praying for us.
I have been thinking about this blog post for a long time, thinking about how I need to talk about that space between hope and despair.
I have been thinking about this blog post for a long time, thinking about how I need to talk about that space between hope and despair.
That space
Between hope and despair
Where gladness and grief collide
Where great faith and debilitating fear attempt to co-exist
I make four steps forward
Living in Hope
But despair pulls me three steps back
That space
Between hope and despair
Hope brings healing
Despair breeds despondency
That space
Between hope and despair
Hope repairs and rebuilds
Despair pulls it all down again
I choose hope
Time and time again
But despair has a way of finding me
Yet
I still choose hope
I fight for hope
I live in hope
I survive through hope
Eventually
Despair will get the hint
And give way to living by faith
Despair tells me my issues are mountains
Hope tells me I can climb any mountains
Despair tells me I am stuck in the dumps
Hope tells me I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me
So in this space
Between hope and despair
I will hang on to hope
No matter how much darkness despair throws my way...
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
A Beautiful Gift & A Failed Adoption
It has been many months since I last posted on this blog, and I was hoping that my return would herald good news. Alas, there was short lived good news that turned not-so-good, fast. The past three weeks have been a whirlwind in our household. So I will try and tell the short version of a rather short but dramatic story. For a woman who is drama-averse, it sure has a way of finding me.
About a month ago, we decided it was time to start our adoption journey, and I went to speak to Lutheran Social Services to learn what we needed to do. Our social worker there explained to me that, whereas it normally can take upto two years to get placement for domestic (i.e. US) infant adoption, it would likely not take as long for us because we are black/African. Apparently, there are not enough folk of color in the system.
Armed with a lot of information and encouragement, I came back home and discussed everything I'd learned with my wonderful spouse, and we agreed to start the journey. I then left for Spring break back home to Philly, but I got a few emails from LSS encouraging us to get our registration paperwork back to them quickly.
We got our registration paperwork back to LSS three weeks ago, the first week of March. By the end of that week, we were asked to send in a short profile that they could use to introduce us to birth parents. Thursday March 6th, we sent in our short profile, a couple of pages talking about us, with a few pictures. Friday March 7th, our social worker emailed me indicating that there was a birth mother who was very interested in us. She asked whether we could meet with her the following week. After a bunch of emails back and forth, we agreed to meet on Wednesday March 12th, which would require us to drive three and a half hours to the Twin Cities. LSS also sent us a whole lot of paperwork to fill out, online courses we needed to do to prepare for adoption, etc. We filled a lot of that paperwork on Saturday March 10th and even started on the online courses.
Sunday March 9th at 7:30AM, I get a text message that the birth mother was in labor...I didn't see the message until about 9 when our social worker called to tell us that actually, the birth mother had given birth (two weeks early) and could we drive down to meet her? At this point, we were not sure what to expect, except that we'd meet with the birth mother and see how it goes. We meet with our social worker and talked through "the match meeting", which is adoption speak for the meeting between potential adoptive parents and birth parents.
By late Sunday afternoon, we made our way to the Twin Cities and to the hospital. Once we learned that the baby was a girl, we'd chosen a name, in case we got matched. We were put in a room at the hospital to meet with the birth mother and her social worker. When she walked in the room, Q (as she chose to be called, she didn't want us knowing her name) walked into the room wheeling in those hospital bassinets with the baby. We proceeded to have a warm conversation getting to know her, she getting to know us, and after about an hour, we agreed that we would, indeed, be interested in adopting her baby. She asked us what we would call her, as she had chosen not to name her. She also told us that when she was informed that we'd agreed to come to the hospital, she felt at peace because she thought we'd be the best option for her daughter. She then handed Zawadi over to us, and insisted we call her our daughter...Zawadi means gift in Swahili.
So our journey with Zawadi began right there in the hospital room. We took care of her for the next 48 hours, in between signing all kinds of documents, calling lawyers do do the legal stuff, and Tuesday March 11, we left the hospital with our daughter. In the meantime, my wonderful supportive workmates were hard at work preparing the home front for baby girl, getting diapers, clothes, and the stuff we'd need once we got home. My faithful friends were setting up a registry and getting things moving. And we were just as excited as can be to finally have a baby in our arms...
March 18th Q should have been signing the paperwork to terminate her parental rights. Instead, she told her social worker that she was reconsidering the adoption plan, and thinking that she would want the baby back to be raised by her mother, who was already raising her 10 year old daughter. Thus began a crazy roller coaster week. She didn't ask for the baby back at that point, just indicating that she was rethinking the plan. In the meantime, we said we'd continue to parent Zawadi until she made up her mind, but she needed to do that soon coz we are not foster parents. I did not take leave from work in order to be a foster parent...I wrote to our friends and colleagues about what was going on, asking for them to be in prayer for all of us (ourselves, the baby, and Q). While I was frustrated at the developments, I was also conscious of the difficulty that Q must have been experiencing, the pain and struggle of letting go of her child. I tried to extend grace, compassion and mercy to a struggling birth mother. And fought against anger...
We continued to love our daughter, sharing her with family and friends as the gift that she was (I will post a separate blog post about how she was a gift to us and to many in our lives). Wednesday March 19th, we get the call that Q had agreed to meet with me, woman to woman, to talk. That meeting was yesterday, March 24th, the actual due date for the delivery. We drove to the Twin Cities and met her at LSS. I talked with her for about an hour, asking her how she was doing those past two weeks, what was happening with her and her mom and other family members, what had changed in her life to cause this change of heart. I also shared with her what our life had been like for the two weeks with Zawadi, how she was loved by our friends, our family in the US and Africa, even my school was celebrating her presence in our lives. In the end, she insisted that she just could not continue with the adoption plan, and would take the baby back to her mother, who had offered to quit her job to be a fulltime at home grandmother to raise Zawadi.
So we are back home, empty handed. We loved Zawadi, we'd bonded with her since a few hours after her birth. It hurts. A lot.
There really ought to be cards out there: condolences on your failed adoption.
What makes all this doable is that we have a strong support system, people who have been praying with and for us since that first phone call about Q's changing mind. I am so grateful for my dean and my colleagues who have been close at hand, supporting, praying, ensuring I got leave to bond with Zawadi, and now supporting and praying as we grieve. So glad for friends near and far whose sustaining prayers enabled us to go through this with a certain sense of peace.
I will miss watching my husband bond with Zawadi as he fed, burped, changed and cooed her to sleep. My hands ache with the emptiness of it all. I should appreciate sleeping seven hours straight, but in all honestly, I would rather be waking up two three times a night to feed baby girl. But in all things, we give thanks. And continue to believe that our gift is still out there. Our baby, the one who will come to stay, is still out there somewhere, perhaps in some other birth mothers tummy baking away :-)
We grieve, but not as ones who have no hope. No, rather, in all things, we continue to believe in God's unfailing love. Jer 29:11 is still true, in spite of the outcomes of this particular adoption experience. Won't you hope and believe with us?
About a month ago, we decided it was time to start our adoption journey, and I went to speak to Lutheran Social Services to learn what we needed to do. Our social worker there explained to me that, whereas it normally can take upto two years to get placement for domestic (i.e. US) infant adoption, it would likely not take as long for us because we are black/African. Apparently, there are not enough folk of color in the system.
Armed with a lot of information and encouragement, I came back home and discussed everything I'd learned with my wonderful spouse, and we agreed to start the journey. I then left for Spring break back home to Philly, but I got a few emails from LSS encouraging us to get our registration paperwork back to them quickly.
We got our registration paperwork back to LSS three weeks ago, the first week of March. By the end of that week, we were asked to send in a short profile that they could use to introduce us to birth parents. Thursday March 6th, we sent in our short profile, a couple of pages talking about us, with a few pictures. Friday March 7th, our social worker emailed me indicating that there was a birth mother who was very interested in us. She asked whether we could meet with her the following week. After a bunch of emails back and forth, we agreed to meet on Wednesday March 12th, which would require us to drive three and a half hours to the Twin Cities. LSS also sent us a whole lot of paperwork to fill out, online courses we needed to do to prepare for adoption, etc. We filled a lot of that paperwork on Saturday March 10th and even started on the online courses.
Sunday March 9th at 7:30AM, I get a text message that the birth mother was in labor...I didn't see the message until about 9 when our social worker called to tell us that actually, the birth mother had given birth (two weeks early) and could we drive down to meet her? At this point, we were not sure what to expect, except that we'd meet with the birth mother and see how it goes. We meet with our social worker and talked through "the match meeting", which is adoption speak for the meeting between potential adoptive parents and birth parents.
By late Sunday afternoon, we made our way to the Twin Cities and to the hospital. Once we learned that the baby was a girl, we'd chosen a name, in case we got matched. We were put in a room at the hospital to meet with the birth mother and her social worker. When she walked in the room, Q (as she chose to be called, she didn't want us knowing her name) walked into the room wheeling in those hospital bassinets with the baby. We proceeded to have a warm conversation getting to know her, she getting to know us, and after about an hour, we agreed that we would, indeed, be interested in adopting her baby. She asked us what we would call her, as she had chosen not to name her. She also told us that when she was informed that we'd agreed to come to the hospital, she felt at peace because she thought we'd be the best option for her daughter. She then handed Zawadi over to us, and insisted we call her our daughter...Zawadi means gift in Swahili.
So our journey with Zawadi began right there in the hospital room. We took care of her for the next 48 hours, in between signing all kinds of documents, calling lawyers do do the legal stuff, and Tuesday March 11, we left the hospital with our daughter. In the meantime, my wonderful supportive workmates were hard at work preparing the home front for baby girl, getting diapers, clothes, and the stuff we'd need once we got home. My faithful friends were setting up a registry and getting things moving. And we were just as excited as can be to finally have a baby in our arms...
March 18th Q should have been signing the paperwork to terminate her parental rights. Instead, she told her social worker that she was reconsidering the adoption plan, and thinking that she would want the baby back to be raised by her mother, who was already raising her 10 year old daughter. Thus began a crazy roller coaster week. She didn't ask for the baby back at that point, just indicating that she was rethinking the plan. In the meantime, we said we'd continue to parent Zawadi until she made up her mind, but she needed to do that soon coz we are not foster parents. I did not take leave from work in order to be a foster parent...I wrote to our friends and colleagues about what was going on, asking for them to be in prayer for all of us (ourselves, the baby, and Q). While I was frustrated at the developments, I was also conscious of the difficulty that Q must have been experiencing, the pain and struggle of letting go of her child. I tried to extend grace, compassion and mercy to a struggling birth mother. And fought against anger...
We continued to love our daughter, sharing her with family and friends as the gift that she was (I will post a separate blog post about how she was a gift to us and to many in our lives). Wednesday March 19th, we get the call that Q had agreed to meet with me, woman to woman, to talk. That meeting was yesterday, March 24th, the actual due date for the delivery. We drove to the Twin Cities and met her at LSS. I talked with her for about an hour, asking her how she was doing those past two weeks, what was happening with her and her mom and other family members, what had changed in her life to cause this change of heart. I also shared with her what our life had been like for the two weeks with Zawadi, how she was loved by our friends, our family in the US and Africa, even my school was celebrating her presence in our lives. In the end, she insisted that she just could not continue with the adoption plan, and would take the baby back to her mother, who had offered to quit her job to be a fulltime at home grandmother to raise Zawadi.
So we are back home, empty handed. We loved Zawadi, we'd bonded with her since a few hours after her birth. It hurts. A lot.
There really ought to be cards out there: condolences on your failed adoption.
What makes all this doable is that we have a strong support system, people who have been praying with and for us since that first phone call about Q's changing mind. I am so grateful for my dean and my colleagues who have been close at hand, supporting, praying, ensuring I got leave to bond with Zawadi, and now supporting and praying as we grieve. So glad for friends near and far whose sustaining prayers enabled us to go through this with a certain sense of peace.
I will miss watching my husband bond with Zawadi as he fed, burped, changed and cooed her to sleep. My hands ache with the emptiness of it all. I should appreciate sleeping seven hours straight, but in all honestly, I would rather be waking up two three times a night to feed baby girl. But in all things, we give thanks. And continue to believe that our gift is still out there. Our baby, the one who will come to stay, is still out there somewhere, perhaps in some other birth mothers tummy baking away :-)
We grieve, but not as ones who have no hope. No, rather, in all things, we continue to believe in God's unfailing love. Jer 29:11 is still true, in spite of the outcomes of this particular adoption experience. Won't you hope and believe with us?
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