Diaper Joy: 17

While the social worker and I were making sure birth mama was better, nurses were preparing to move her to a recovery room. They wheeled her down the hall to get some rest and moved us another direction. I thought we would be spending the next two days in the waiting room, in an uncomfortable chair at best. But the nurses prepared a room for us. It was such a huge blessing. They were so super to us. We even had a bed and a rocker. And even better–we had our daughter.

We hadn’t expected this. Because birth mama needed to rest, we got to care for our sweet girl. We got to hold her, feed her, bond with her, and even change her diapers. I know that sounds like something some people might want to pass on, but I was sooooo blessed to change her first (and second) diaper. I had never changed my boys’ diapers in the hospital because I had just been through cesareans. I was eating up these moments of pure joy. Diaper joy! I was enjoying every sober moment. God was helping me to notice these small but significant moments of gratitude.

That day, we were high on life. We phoned and texted photos home to our boys and parents and friends. We admired our newborn daughter. We called her by the name we chose for her, Moriah Joy. We loved on her, sang to her, dressed her in pink… You know!

Every hour or so, I would wheel her to birth mama’s room. She would hold her, love on her, brag on her (well-deserving), listen to us brag on her. This was going great! Birth mama would make sure the pediatrician and nurses included us in everything. She would make sure we dressed her in the outfit and swaddle she had bought for her. She would pose for pictures and videos for keepsakes. That time was precious. The social workers stayed all day and helped make the visits even more comfortable.

It wasn’t until the next morning that things would take a turn.

Holding Joy: 15

The doctor cut the umbilical cord of my newborn daughter and blood splattered all over me. It was quite something, because I am quite certain it hit no one else in the room but me and we were all crammed together. I am pretty sure there is some significance of this anointing, yet another confirmation of the bond I share with this baby and her birth mama.

A new nurse came in and I don’t think she knew our situation. She asked “Dad” to cut the cord. I watched as the birth mom’s boyfriend seemed proud to participate. I didn’t pout. I didn’t need that moment. It would be my turn to take care of her soon enough. I watched my daughter get cleaned up and weigh in at 8pounds 3ounces. What a healthy girl! I couldn’t stop commenting on how beautiful she was. Lots of jet black wavy hair, dark eyes, round cheeks and luscious lips, on a perfectly formed body with 10 fingers and 10 toes. LOOONG toes. Oh my goodness, precious baby girl parts. I admired her while the nurse handed her to the birth mom to cuddle and awe over.

Birth mama was so gentle, so loving, so sweet, so proud. She smiled as she cradled our girl, and then with the kindest smile and gentlest voice and purest intentions, she said to me, “The first person she’s gonna see is me and the second person she’s gonna see is you” and then she turned to our girl and told her, “you have two mommies.” What a love there!!! It may be difficult for you to imagine. I am trying to paint this image for you. There was no element of fear or jealousy. She delivered a message of pure joy and love. This lady who was giving me her daughter was putting her blessing on it. As if she hadn’t already done enough. She just kept giving. This kind of love makes me want to love better. Love so generously! Give so lavishly! 

And then it was my turn to hold my daughter for the first time. She was so alert and wide-eyed at this moment. She stretched out; stuck her tongue out (imagine that; I know right–if you have seen her many photos, that tongue is out), looked all around and settled into my arms. My moments seemed brief but intentionally so. I knew that this was her time. Mine would come later. It was my turn to share and give.

The birth mom seemed to look longingly at her boyfriend to hold the baby. There might have been some fleeting moments of fear (on my part) that she would change her mind if he had embraced fathering this child. I might even believe that if he had agreed to raise her as his own, she would have kept the baby right then and there. The emotion in the room was getting even more intense. And it was about to peak.

The boyfriend seemed to give in to the sweet pleas of the birth mom and he held our girl in his arms. Birth mama seemed relieved and then almost ready to move on. She was tired. They were tired. They talked about needing rest and food, so I took the opportunity to ask if my husband could come in. I should have sensed the hesitation and reluctant concession. I wanted Tony to meet his daughter and everything seemed to be going so well. There wasn’t a rule book to follow or a map of how the next 48 hours were supposed to happen. That would have been nice. Instead we were preparing for some tough moments of raw emotion.

Birthday Joy: 14

I awoke at 4:30am the next day, praying for the birth mother. I hated to think about her getting the procedure I knew the doctors were planning (membrane stripping) and then a possible weekend of painful contractions. I must have fallen back to sleep though because at 5:30am, our social worker’s name was glowing on my phone. Shaking my sleeping husband, I jumped up and answered. It was time!

She told us to make our way to the hospital, that the birth mom had been admitted and would have the baby today. I knew that 4:30 wake up was not coincidence. Maybe I was so connected to the birth mom that I felt her pains. But more likely, God woke me to pray for her. I believe he calls us to intercede. This has always been confusing to me because I know He doesn’t need my prayers. But it sure brings joy when I am able to pray for someone and then see God’s hand at work in that situation. I encourage you to let God stir your heart about someone, let him wake you in the middle of a nice sleep…and then respond in prayer.

Well, I called my mom to set our plan into action, as she would come and get the boys to school and care for them while we were gone. I told her to take her time as Tony and I weren’t really wanting to hurry to wait, in a possible awkward situation. Soooo, we took our time getting ready, even helping get the kids ready for school. Just twenty minutes out of town (still well over an hour before we would arrive at the hospital), we got a call telling us that the birth mom was pushing. My heart sank at the thought of missing her birth. Peace immediately swept over us, despite the longing to be there. I can only explain this as God’s peace, because I had high hopes of being there. But the desire to feel at peace and choose joy overcame. She was going to be here! Finally! We would be holding our daughter soon.

And yet another miracle happened. Ten minutes from the hospital, the social worker called to tell us to HURRY. The baby had not been born yet. Everything was fine, but we were given instructions on the quickest route to the delivery room. We were told that the birth mom was waiting until I was there. I might have cried. I am pretty sure I was shaking. I was so excited. Tony pulled up to the curb and let me out. He would park the car and then wait patiently in the waiting room with the social worker while I got to witness our daughter’s birth. He kissed my cheek and nodded in approval as I ran towards the hospital doors. I had the best husband in the world!

When I walked into the delivery room where I had been directed, the birth mom looked radiant. She glowed. And she smiled. She was excited, yet calm. She was ready. She had been ready. But she insisted I be there and would not deliver without me there. What an amazing bond we felt! She was already giving me this priceless gift and now she was just spoiling me, lavishing more of everything she could offer.

We hugged and talked about the last few hours. I introduced myself and hugged her boyfriend (not the birth father); he was there to support her. She did not have anyone else there. She and her boyfriend had moved from their home state just months before. It might have been awkward for a few moments but I remember feeling so much love for these two. I am pretty sure every expression in my eyes showed them that too. The doctor came into the room and introduced me. All the staff seemed to know who I was and made me feel comfortable. They allowed me to stand next to the birth mom and video the delivery…which was AWESOME! I had never seen my boys born, as I had to have cesareans with them all. There had always been a surgical drape preventing me from witnessing the births of my children.

As instructed, birth mama pushed to the count of 10 three times in one contraction. A stern nurse told her to push harder. And wouldn’t you know, she was able to take her directions and delivered sweet baby girl during that second 10 count! It was amazing! I have never seen anything so beautiful and strong and told her how great she did. She cheered herself on, “I KNOW!” She was proud. She should have been. I enjoyed that moment so much. I enjoyed bragging on her and she seemed more confident and courageous than ever.

The next few moments would be a little chaotic as all the attention focused to the baby that just entered the world. I am choking up as I write this. Our sweet girl came out crying and looking so perfect, despite the meconium that covered her face. She had her arm wrapped around the umbilical cord and appeared so strong. She was placed on her birth mom’s chest to be admired. She was. She was loved. There was so much joy and positivity in the room. There were no tears…yet.

“Adoption” Joy: 4

In just a matter of days now, our hearts had been freed and yet felt heavy. The emotion was overwhelming. And the “signs” felt overwhelming. It seemed everywhere I looked, I saw adoption stories. On Facebook, someone posted their story, “His Plan, Our JOY” (hmmm. sounds exactly in line with my thoughts). On Pinterest, someone was pinning adoption sites for their growing family. This was only the beginning of the flood of “adoption” stories that would invade our comfortable life (more to come later).

I turned to the only person I felt I could talk to about these new feelings and questions. I had met her 10years before when I volunteered where she worked. She moved away, and 10 years later we were standing next to each other at church watching our sons (only a day apart in age) playing together and instantly reconnected. I called her on the phone and she told me about international adoption. Her son was from Ethiopia and they were in the process of adopting a daughter there as well. It was such a relief to talk to someone.

After we hung up, I prayed for God to speak clearly to Tony and I. I want to do what we were supposed to, not just what I wanted. I wanted what HE wanted. But I couldn’t help feeling so alive thinking about her, imagining “Isaac making her laugh and they both have beautiful smiles, Sy hugging on her with so much love and Jude following her endlessly; her shadow.” (I wrote that back in February 2012)

That same night I was going to a weekly class at my church to become a Stephen’s Minister. I had this fear that these new feelings stemmed from selfish desires for more. I had to know if it was me or God that wanted this. I really had never felt so strongly about something so quickly in my life and I had to make sure it was worth this amount of energy and emotion, and not some self-serving ideals. On the drive to the training, I asked God to please use the word “adoption” in my class for confirmation that we were supposed to be pursuing this. And I agreed not to pursue this if it was not confirmed. It felt so sudden, this longing in my heart. I apologized to God for needing this but honestly humbled myself to his power and attention and wisdom. When I got to class, Maggie (a sweet lady in my class that I later found out adopted her son) had inspirational mugs for us filled with Valentine chocolates. We could chose from blue “Believe”, lavender “Peace”, green “Hope” or pink “Joy”. Guess which one I got–JOY in pink (see my 1st post in this blog). I was emotional but didn’t explain why. I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about these feelings yet. That night we were trained to help counsel those with depression. It was going to be a tall order for God to get the word
“adoption” in. And all through class, NO mention of adoption. I really thought I would be dropping this emotional distraction very soon. But then just before the end of class, Pastor Rick came in to meet us and pray with us. After we all made our introductions and Rick talked some, Maggie says to Rick, “Your father in law handled my son’s adoption.” I almost started crying right there. I am pretty sure I was shaking noticeably but played it off as my emotional self. I praised God then and the whole way home, thanking Him for loving me sooooo much. Until this time, I had never asked for a word like this and I have never again. It was one of those moments that is ingrained in my mind for how unique this experience was.

I knew God had orchestrated those events: Maggie’s gifts, Maggie’s bold statement, Rick coming to our class, and even me making such a request.

I cannot even explain the emotion and Joy I felt knowing that God was speaking so clearly and that He wanted my daughter and I to be together. I could feel my heart growing. There had been a space for her for a long time, but after this, wow, the hope was so real.

Freeing Joy: 3

Many months went by after my dream, months of me pursuing Christ. Not a baby, not a daughter. Just more Jesus. I also had my hands quite full with my boys. By this time, Isaac was 11, Sy was 6 and Jude was 4. And honestly, I was just trying to be the best mom I could be but felt like I was really struggling with my youngest. He challenged me to my core.  I don’t remember even thinking about adding anymore children to our family. I was full. I was tired. But thank God, it wasn’t about me or my strength, my patience or my insecurities. It wasn’t even about my children. And yet that is how God next started speaking to us, through the mouths of our babes. I started to notice some changes in my sons. They were asking for a sister, pleading for a sister. I don’t think I had any influence on this. In fact, I remember being really shocked. I really couldn’t understand why they would ask for a baby. Our lives were full and tired; didn’t they see that too?! But it didn’t take me long to realize God put this love and longing in their hearts.

I remember one evening in January (thirteen months after my dream), where it was nice enough to grill and eat outside on the patio around our newly built pool. My husband had probably made some fantastic BBQ. And after we ate and cleaned up, we kept visiting out there, enjoying family time. As the night crept up on us, the boys once again started talking about a sister. This instance really stood out to me. Maybe because it felt like they had planned it; they were plotting together. I remember looking at my husband like “where is this coming from?” I knelt down to Sy, sweet Sy. He was the loudest voice on the sister brigade. And I explained that mommy and daddy could not make a sister come, that if that was something that he really wanted, he could pray about it; that we could all pray about it. He understood praying. He liked to pray for others and would oftentimes, stop to pray for someone he saw in a cast or with crutches.

So it was no surprise that he prayed for a sister…again…and again. And his faith! Wow! He would just come up to me and tell me he was going to have a sister because he prayed for one. The END. Period. No problems.

A few weeks later I was riding bikes with my oldest and Isaac asked me, “Why don’t we just go to Africa or China and adopt a little girl?” I replied, “You would want that?” “Yeh, why not?” he said without much thought. It started to become very clear that our kids had been gifted this love for a sister. And they seemed pretty willing to go to the lengths needed. Tony and I talked about it later that night when they slept. Was this something we wanted too? Could we dare to imagine a daughter? Could we really dream about the possibility? Or were we too scared to think about the efforts it was going to take to make this a reality. It made our stomachs flip.

Our hearts felt free to feel the longing we had tucked away. Our children had freed us to go that place in our heart, freed us to hope. Correction: our God had freed us through our sons.

Maturing Joy:2

Now not much felt different yet but I was still excited and expecting JOY, when I got to hear an amazing message from our Pastor Rick Thompson December 12^th 2010, eleven days after my dream. Wouldn’t you know, it was the week of Advent on JOY! And those beautiful little girls were dancing around the sanctuary. And just like always, I cried.  (My heart always melts for those sweet ballerinas when I see them.) Rick started the sermon in Exodus 40:35 with God showing up in a cloud over the tabernacle. Rick advised that “when God shows up in a manifest way, like a dream (hello???), listen to Him.” Then we hear about how Mary receives the word from God (through an Angel that she will give birth to the Holy, Son of of God; Luke 1:26-38–this sentence should not get parentheses-right! It is the main story after all!) and ponders it, then waits expectantly for the gift of Him. I kept hearing Rick say, “When God speaks, receive his message.” In my message notes, I remember writing “Why would God find favor with me? I am not sinless like Mary.” And then Rick answered this as if he knows this had to be hard to understand. Rick explained Ephesians 1:6: He has graced us; favored us. I didn’t do anything to gain this favor but he still gives it. 

                                             

Luke 11:28 Blessed are those who Hear God’s word and keep it.  Nothing is impossible with God. Friends, readers, ponder this please. He freely gives us favor and blessing. Keep His Word. Nothing is Impossible with God! Amen!  

So before I left the sactuary that day, I prayed “how can I honor and obey what you are entrusting me”. I truly wanted to accept whatever God had for me. And I even ask for a daughter (afterall I believe he wants us to ask when our hearts align with His). I also prayed that God would talk to my husband Tony too (He talked to Joseph). And then Rick closed by saying something about “a message that brings joy” and to be like Mary–let God do whatever in and through me. I spent a lot of time pondering that. What was He going to have to do in me, messy me, to prepare me for this?

For the next few months, I kept seeking the Lord in His word, discovering what He meant by “joy”, expecting Joy in my own life and to bring Him Joy (which is such an amazing thought in itself). During my studies I learned a lot about the Joy God wants for us. And I encourage you to read for yourself. You will see that God really wants us to experience JOY and that Joy doesn’t mean happiness. Do a search for Joy in the bible. There are such good nuggets of truth and love in His word. This verse spoke to me, begging me to remain close to him that I might experience His joy. 

John 15:10-11 “If you keep my commands, you’ll remain intimately at home in my love…that my joy might be your joy and your joy wholly mature. 

I think God was really trying to get me to let go of the things keeping me from fully embracing Him, from that enthusiastic response to Him. He wanted me to live without this turmoil between the natural and spiritual and be full of Joy. In the coming posts I will write about how He kept it easy to be so in Awe of Him, to really live out the enthusiastic response, even when I could barely claim the hope of such lavish gifts of JOY. I will share our journey of how God put Joy in our children’s hearts and clearly spoke “adoption” into our lives. And finally I will share what it meant for our family to be obedient and patient. You may already know some of the bits of story but I promise there is more. More of God’s goodness. More of our awe. More of God’s attention to detail and more of us opening our eyes to how He cares about all of it. In fact, I think He really loves those details; the inside jokes; the personal relationship. If you have any questions about this God of mine or adoption, I am glad to listen and share. Feel free to post questions or comments.

Dreaming Joy:1

My name is Amy. I have a daughter! For the longest time, I didn’t think I would ever say those words. And I had reconciled that notion. I had three perfect, healthy, wild, adorable boys. And then my tubes tied! Right, I mean I wasn’t going for a basketball team. And even if I was okay with that, my body seemed to reject recovering from any more after the three cesarean births and subsequent infections.

But then something amazing happened, God spoke to my family. He spoke straight to our hearts and then gently awoke us to promises and hopes only He could provide in His perfect timing. Some days it felt like he was jumping up and down, waving his hands, saying “look what you can do…with me” and performing modern-day miracles– until we couldn’t deny the longing and call for our lives. And we are sooooo grateful. I am so very thankful. I want to share her story, because it is beautiful. Because I feel so blessed to be chosen by God, my children chosen, and I know that God calls us all in different ways. I hope you will not only be blessed to know more about the adoption that changed our life, but you will be encouraged to discover the message that brings Joy for you.