Wishing and Hoping and Thinking and Praying

I heard someone speak today about trials. His mother died of complications from a liver transplant when he was 15. He made a comment while he was telling about the process they went through when his mom was trying to get a liver transplant that really struck me. He said they weren't religious at all, but you still get brought to prayer in a situation like that. But, at the same time, what is it you're praying for? It's not like you can in good conscience get on your knees and say, 'Dear God, please kill someone today so that I can get a new liver and live."

I kind of feel similar about our current situation (although neither of us has to physically die). Can I blame Bernadette for wanting to be the mom to her children? For heaven's sake - I want to be the mom to her children! We're much more similar than it might appear. I guess, in a way, we're each "the other woman" to the other. The one true threat. The one that makes you feel like less of a woman because she takes away your children. Bernadette is the only one with control in this situation, and yet ironically, she's the one that has the fewest options afforded her as far as what she's going to do with her own life. I don't know that she ever got to decide "what she wanted to be when she grew up." I would never want to live in Haiti and I'm forever grateful that I was born in America.

How do you have faith and move forward in this situation? Faith doesn't mean that we don't feel. Feelings are relative. We have good days (or weeks) and bad ones. I think we're supposed to grieve. It doesn't mean I don't have faith because I'm human and feeling. Faith does mean that I believe that somehow this will all work out. Whether or not that means that Lexi and Nathan are ever ours again - I don't know. There will be some sort of resolution at some point.

The only way I can think of to "have faith and move forward" is to book tickets for the trip in June and trust that by then, we'll have OUR children - whomever they may be.



We're grieving. We're also Wishing and Hoping and Thinking and Praying.

Coping

Believe it or not, there have been entire years of our life together where nothing much has happened. We don't usually have this much drama.

Someone told me the other day that there was a point in the life of her family where they wondered what else they could possibly lose. They ended up moving across several states and things worked out in the end.

In the last few weeks we've found out that we're losing a job, I lost an ovary, and now we've lost our children.

It looks like Brent will be going back to school. It turns out that was a blessing and good timing for us after all.

When I finish healing, I'll feel a lot better with all these cysts removed - ovary or not. That is also a blessing.

I don't know how to reconcile Lexi and Nathan. It still feels like SOMEHOW this will work out and we'll end up with them.

We wrote a letter to their birth mom (Bernadette) and our agency is having it translated into French and Creole and they'll get it to the orphanage who will get it to Bernadette. We also sent a few of our favorite family photos. I don't know if it will make a difference. One of our case workers felt strongly prompted to have us write the letter and we certainly were willing to do so. I think that's all we can do.

And so... we wait. We distract ourselves. We keep getting up every day. And we keep thinking about them. Praying for them. Hoping. I don't think you can fill a hole the size of Lexi and Nathan without Lexi and Nathan.

A friend reminded me that when you can no longer see, faith is continuing to move forward and trusting that the light will move with you.

In the words of my one of my favorite hymns:

Fear not, I am with thee, oh be not dismayed

For I am thy God and will still give thee aid

I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand

Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.

When through the deep waters I call thee to go

The rivers of sorrow shall not thee ov'rflow

For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless

And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

Renmen ou, Lexi and Nathan. Come Home Soon.

Happy Anniversary...

Tomorrow is our 10th wedding anniversary. It's ironic because the last adoption we had disrupt happened about on my birthday in 2006. Maybe I should stick to dogs.

We just can't imagine these two not being our children. I can't say that I blame their mother - I wanted to take them home as well! They're beautiful children and I don't know how you can be with them and not be in love with them.

We're hoping for a miracle. Maybe she'll realize it was a mistake, and that she can't care for them and she'll give them up again. Lexi and Nathan have a half-sibling in France that was adopted previously, so she's been through this before. I don't know if that makes it better or worse for our case right now. We're also hoping that, if she does change her mind again, we'll find out about it so we can resume our adoption efforts. There are so many orphanages in Haiti...

I've been looking at pictures and videos all afternoon. It seems like this has to be a nightmare and that I'll be able to wake up sometime soon.

It finally seemed like everything was coming together for our little family. (well, besides, the kidney stones, cysts and layoff, that is).

About a year ago we decided we wanted to take a trip for our 10th anniversary. We started looking at different exotic locations. Then Lexi and Nathan happened and Haiti in January was our anniversary present. It was the best thing to ever happen to us. And I still hope we'll be able to somehow have Lexi and Nathan with us. Someway... Somehow...

Looks like we need another miracle.