We're "live"

One more stop on this emotional roller coaster. This weekend we told my parents that we will be adopting. Since there is no "when" or "where from", it is confusing. There is not date to have a baby by. There is no season to make clothes. There is no nursery set up. There is nothing but this ambiguous "maybe baby" time that will last who knows how long, but no more than 18 months when we will pull the plug ourselves. Today's sermon was Standing Firm in Christ. Which is so hard at times when you have so many questions. To continue to walk in Faith and not by Sight. Our profiles are live now. Our pictures are being seen by birthmoms that may or may not connect with our pictures, our story. As each day passes, you feel like you are failing. That there is something wrong with you, and that is why you have not been chosen. That they do not like what you see, and you revert back to high school where everything is a popularity contest. Until our time is chosen, we remain dillegent in finishing our home study, enjoying our boys and each other, and keeping our eye on Christ who has promised us that it is now our time to complete our family.

The ball is rolling.....

Of course, I'm prepared for it to suddenly stop again at any time, but for now, we are on some forward mobility. One thing I've noticed about this adoption process, it's either feast or famine. Especially on the paperwork. We spent the last week getting a bunch of pictures together to show what our lives are like. Dave and I together, the family, us in action shots, our house(which it rained for days so it took forever to get those taken!), the animals, the whole nine yards. Not only do we have to purge our life stories onto paper, but we also do into pictures for the world to see. But that is finished, finally. Sent in. Received. We have our first home study appointment scheduled for the second of November. Susan, our caseworker, should be getting our initial paperwork for background checks today and will help us get our digitalized fingerprints at DCFS. I have had my TB test. Dave needs to get his chest xray. But after she lets us know what to do with our fingerprints, there is nothing to do until after Disney. So nothing will be looming over our heads. Thank you, Jesus!

I'm eager to go to Disney this year. Normally, I overlook the little girls. With an ache in my gut at their cute little outfits. Now little boys are adorable too, but I've been there, done that. Thrice. I usually look over their sweet little heads and focus on how great it is to have my sweet boys. It's easy to do. But this year, I wonder if I will feel differently? Now that possibly next year I will have my own daughter to traipse around with.

This journey has brought on a lot of introspection. A lot of self talk. A lot of wonderment on my walk in life. Walking by Faith and not by Sight is not easy for me, but I'm learning. Slowly, I'm learning.

More Lamenting.......

I think I may drive everyone involved crazy throughout this ordeal. My adoption caseworker, the media worker, the attorney, my homestudy caseworker.....thankfully my family is spared at this time. Maybe later I will take my anxiety out on them. But for now, they are blissfully aware of the war that rages inside of me. I guess I am a little OCD...ok, I give, a lot. I want things done. I want them done correctly. And I want to have it done yesterday. Going through the adoption process is not like that. I want to Tango, it's more of a slow waltz. Although I understand why, since every i needs dotted twice, every t crossed just so, still, it drives me mad. I have waited to be contacted by the media department. I have driven Michelle, my AC crazy, I know it. Asking..always asking..what is the time frame? Why haven't they contacted me? Is it by email? Is it by paper? What is the deal?? She is so patient. Finally, today, they contacted me. I should have enjoyed the reprive!

They will be building a profile on four sites. And a you tube video. I have to have different birth mother letters for each site, a page about our home and family, a two page questionnaire filled out for another site, and then 50+ photos for each site. Which cannot be the same. ACK! I have a million pictures of my sons. Doing everything under the son. But I do not have 40 pictures of Dave and I. Or just of me. Or just of Dave. This is going to take some work.

And then I have to send it all in on a USB stick. A what? I guess I will educate myself about all of that as well. I'm thankful for friends that remind me of the hassles I went through when I was pregnant. The first trimester trouble. This is it in adoption world. Guess I better get started!

I'm not going public with this, yet I am. How do you explain that? Well, only my "followers" will get a front row seat into our lives for a bit. The rest will have to catch up later. I've been hesitant to share this journey, yet I realized at church on Sunday where the minister was speaking about the fear of failure, that I really should be an open book on this road as well. Why not, I have every other journey I've been on. People have known about my adoration of my sons, yet my desire to parent a daughter as well. That is no secret. Heck, ALTERED DREAMS has all of my thoughts and feelings in it. I am the proverbial open book!

So, we are beginning a new journey. Adoption is the new pregnancy in the Asbery household. Yes, you read correctly. Dave, the boys, and I are adopting a baby girl. We don't know where she will come from, or when she will come, but we are in the beginning of the process. We have an agency. We have sent off our fingerprints. We have instigated a home study. We have a name. We have a few sleepers, a package of diapers, a diaper bag, but no baby. This is one of the craziest things I have ever done.

First was the shock that my husband wanted to do this in the first place. But he is a good man. He knows my heart. He knows how much I would love to have a daughter. And I admit, I was happy with my all boy family, but still felt there was something missing. I still felt left out. All of the sudden, this dream is a reality. We are going to have a baby girl. Sometime. Then the calls to agencies, deciding which one, did we really want to do this? To disrupt our lives? Things have gotten SO easy with the boys. Were we up for starting over again? Yes, we are. Then the signing and the waiting. Why are they not operating on yesterday-time like we are? Why don't we have her already? We have waited for YEARS for her.....

The boys are beyond excited. We talked to them about it before we embarked on this journey. I told Dave that if even ONE of them says no, it's a done deal. We will not move forward if any of our sons are against it. Unanimously, they wanted a sister. I could hear God speaking..I told you, in MY time...well, now I say it's YOUR time. So I am walking in Faith, not by Sight. On one of rides of my life.

This week we wait. We have turned in our application with the Adoption Network Law Center. We have had consultation calls, follow up calls, calls from their attorneys. We have filled out paperwork and sent money. We have exchanged pictures. We have shared our news with a few friends. We bought sleepers. We had our fingerprints done for the FBI. That was crazy. With Liam and Cullen looking on, we were fingerprinted at our local police department. Talking about living in the South and adopting. That along with five pages of notes, we sent them off to Clarksburg, VA to see if we have hidden records (Lord, please no!). Then came the application for the homestudy. Pages after pages of notes, written, filled out, questions about family, youth, relationships, children, beliefs, the whole nine yards and finally, that was sent off with a fee. Now we are waiting. Waiting for the welcome pack from ANLC to start our media and bio sections, as well as our birthmother letter (which I have written about 6 times!). Waiting for the FBI report (up to 8 wks!), and waiting for the LifeLink home study to approve our application and set up a visit (before Christmas please!). Through all of this, we hold a secret, close to our hearts. Except for the few that know.......and now you. Stay tuned! More excitement and frustration to follow, I'm sure!

Life's roadways

Author: (excerpt from "Within My Power" by Forest Witcraft)
One hundred years from now
It won't matter
What kind of car I drove
What kind of house I lived in
How much money I had in the bank
Nor what my cloths looked like
BUT
The world may be a little better
Because, I was important
In the life of a child.

Long before I had children, I was an advocate for them. Working with families who were broken or torn was a passion of mine. Getting to see families heal and repair was a joy. Working with children in foster care was especially a soft spot in my heart. Standing up for children who could not stand up for themselves was done early in my career, and later at various pregnancy crisis centers as I aged and had my own children. Once, I believed that a woman had a choice. Then I became pregnant with my first child and knew, I could never agree with that way of life again, for me.

Our family is embarking on a new journey. One that will be based soley on the will of God. It's HIS time for us. I can't wait to see what happens.

Rememberance

Several times a year I get into a reflective mood. On my boy's birthdays, my anniversary, birthday, ect....one day stands out as well for the past ten years. That of 9/11/01. The day the world seemed to stand still. Only it didn't. Yes, planes didn't fly and many people received the most horrible of news; that a loved one was gone. But on that day, life continued, yet it was changed. Ten years later, I have an almost 12 year old, and a 9 year old who are asking some serious questions. Why? Who? How? Where were you? Where was I? Will it happen again? Why didn't God protect us? How do we live knowing that any day, any moment may be our last?
I think as I am in the midst of this 21 days of praying for my sons that it is appropriate that these questions come. And that I try to answer them as honestly as I can. The "where were you" "where was I" questions are easy. The ones my 9 year old asks are different: "How did something so horrible make you want to have another baby, to bring another life into the world? And then 4 years later, do it again?" Those questions and the "Are the people who did this bad people who will automatically go to hell?" questions get to me. How do I explain that we all have choices to make, that those who did these horrible acts upon the US are to be prayed for, not hated. That everything we have done in the past 10 years for our troops, dear friends of ours, children of friends, new friends, or complete strangers, have been done to support those who put their lives on the line for us back home.
I admit, my kids see me cry. They know the pain I went through on Sept 11, 2001. They know the heart wrenching fear, emptiness, and heartbreak I felt. I do not hide it. They know my experience was different than those who were safe at home, loved ones in their arms. They also know that those who lived close by, those who sent their loved ones to help, have a different story as well. As a picture is painted of people jumping, lives on planes lost, security measures, changes, death, hopelessness; so arise the stories of strength, selflessness, courage, compassion, love, and strength.
So to my 11 year old, I say how much I love him. How being away from him causes this ache in my body that only having him within reach fulfills. How seeing his small body through the window of my parents house a week later than expected will be forever etched in my memory. How I never want to feel that empty arm syndrome again.
To my 9 year old, I tell a story of love and hope. How the next month after these horrible attacks, his Daddy and I wanted his brother to have a sibling. Someone to call in the dark of the night. Someone to exist with that has the same history, the same story. Someone to look out for each other. How having him in our lives, reminded us that good things can come out of the bad. Life continues. Love will prevail. And the goodness of God comes in the smallest of packages. In the form of a child, fearfully made within a womb. A child with a purpose. A child who would know no different.
To my 4 year old who doesn't grasp what his brothers do. Who flits and dances to songs that make his Momma cry, and his brothers hug her close. Who is untouched by the badness of life. Who cries out: "I love my family!" at whim and knows, no matter what, he is adored.

So, I am continuing to pray for my sons. As well as the sons and daughters of my heart who serve overseas. May you all come home to us safely. To the arms of those who love you. We remember. We know what you are fighting for. And I, for one, am eternally thankful.

Obedience

Ah, the crux of it all. Teaching my children to obey me for daily things is difficult, let alone obey the word of God. I struggle with discipline on a daily, heck, hourly basis. How can I teach them to do things when I sometimes lose control myself? How can I live each moment, within that moment, and not take to heart my own feelings of irritation, subjegation, and testing to know when are teachable moments, and when they should just do what I say when I say it? My husband, as a former marine, tells the boys often that discipline is instant obedience to direction. And they do instantly obey him. But not me. I ask. I ask again. I ask louder. I ask even louder. Then I take something away and the whole time, I am frustrated and they have no idea I have asked 4 times before. What am I doing different? I guess it boils down to the fact that I need to learn to obey God more, before I can teach my sons to obey God more. I better get to work!