Wednesday, December 5, 2007

When This Process Is Hard...

Well, it is always hard, isn't it? But, you see, the thing is that we adopting families know that... we know the rules, we signed on for this, we understand that we chose this... we read the terms and clicked the "agree" button. So, when it is hard, we can act like adults, swallow hard, and push on. At times, we have hard days, we reach out to others who comfort us and reassure us, and we pick ourselves up and go on with our day-to-days because we are expected to, we have to, of course. We resist (well, not always... we are human) the urges to crawl under the covers because we are in PGN limbo, or eat a pint of Ben & Jerry's when Barrios seems to be on vacation, and we live life preparing for the child we love to come home. We make attempts to pass the time learning about our child's culture, getting rooms and homes ready.... we get busy. We experience the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows, but we do it because it was our choice... and we are in love. Those are our babies out there. What you don't know, what you don't see, and what you don't hear is: This. Is. So. Hard.

To love a child in another country being raised and cared for by another family, or in an orphanage... it is, simply, just hard. And do you want to know what we know? We know that it could be harder. We know that other people adopting have it harder, wait longer, have more heartbreak... and it is still hard. We even know that some people aren't as fortunate to even be able to adopt. Do you want to know what else we know? We know we are blessed, we know we are lucky, we know that in time this will all be over, our babies will be home, and this will all just be part of the story of how we became a family. We know. Trust me.

Every day we wish we were stronger.

Still, every day, every single day... we smile and laugh, we say a little prayer, make a little wish, and "let it go" in whatever way we can that day. We smile while telling people about this experience. We remain hopeful, and excited, and grateful. We do all the grownup self-talk we can fabricate to get through each day of missing our daughter or son... but we are not 5.

Sam is 5. He has been planning and dreaming and hoping and loving right along with us. He is a child. My first baby. He has amazed us at every step of the way in this process. He is the superhero he has always told us he wanted to be when he grows up. He does not doubt. He does not question. He does not pour over timelines, or pace when anxiously waiting for updates, or get stomach aches when a government is not really sure what they plan to do with their adoption program. He trusts. He believes with all of his heart that God has this in the bag, and that his Mama and Daddy will bring his baby sister home. He tells us what WE need to do to get ready for HIS baby sister. He giggles at the site of her picture, he swoons over video of a trip he desperately wanted to be a part of, he studies the best high chair and doesn't ask for anything for himself when we go to pick it out. In the same breath, he has zero patience for SANTA! But this, waiting for his sister, he is calm.

So, when tonight, at dinner, he asked if his baby sister would be home before Christmas so that we could all finally be together...

This is hard.

15 comments:

Kerri said...

Poor Sam. Hoping he has his sister home soon. She'll be one lucky girl to have him for a brother.
Kerri and Ruby

Guatemama said...

Beth,
Oh I am bawling like a baby over here. Again I can so so relate. You expressed that so beautifully. Our precious 5 year old boys that is what scares me the most about all this. If the worst were to happen BUT I have faith that both boys are going to be "official" big brothers and soon. They are both such wonderful brothers already. Kboy has helped me deal with this everyday.
Hugs
Tracy

Donna said...

Oh so beautifully written, Beth! The pain of the waiting and the not knowing and the what-if's was undoubtebly the hardest and most difficult time of my life. You are not alone, we are all still in there with you praying the babies home. You are doing SO good for Sam- I did climb under the covers many a day! ((((hugs))))

Nicole said...

I agree - beautifully written. You've said what so many of us are feeling.

Hoping Sam has his baby sister home soon.

Steph said...

Oh, if we could all learn the lesson of unquestionable faith and hope from the expert, a 5 year old. Sam is such a special boy with amazing parents. He is already a wonderful and loving big brother! Lucy will be home soon. That call is coming.

Auntie G said...

Beth,
You put that so well and described each on of us. I am so glad we have each other online to support, encourage, cry, laugh and rejoice with.
Gail

Auntie G said...

Beth,
You put that so well and described each on of us. I am so glad we have each other online to support, encourage, cry, laugh and rejoice with.
Gail

Bobbi said...

He is going to be such a good big brother. I remember the days of helping the girls understand why it was taking so long. It is heartbreaking to try and explain it to them.

Hey, Sam, SANTA is coming soon!! If only he could fit Lucy in his sled.......

Ginger--Maya's mommy said...

Great post.

Emily said...

SOOOOO Beautifully written...you remind us it's really the finer details of this wonderful yet very challenging process that help us to see the light at the end of the tunnel. This is a hard process and I am so glad you wrote about it today. :-)

Emily

Betsy said...

Great post, B. In the end, the whole process taught me to "let go" (of wanting to control the outcome because, in reality, I had no control) and faith. Hard lessons to learn. I don't think I handled the wait quite as maturely as you have. And, if I ever did it again I'm not sure I could say I've mastered the lessons learned either. Adoption is a hard hard journey on many levels.

I really hope that all you will be a forever family very soon. Until then, give your little Sam a big hug and kiss for me!

Anonymous said...

Beth - you guys are in my thoughts daily and I hope so much for you to get that call soon. I know your heart is "aching" right now - and longing to be with her so badly and there is nothing that can help that (except that darn phone call) - Keeping my fingers crossed for you....
Love,
Julie

Guate4Jack said...

You took the words out of my mouth and the thoughts out of my head.

Beautiful writing.

Beautiful family.

Becky and Jack

Michelle Smiles said...

Hugs to you and your family.

It is SO HARD! The waiting and worrying and wondering - there is nothing that can ease the anxiety and pain of knowing your child is so far away.

The Aldridge's said...

I just saw your blog and had to comment. Not only is it that we have a very close timeline similarity, but the fact that you worded this process so VERY well!! It is SO HARD and what I couldnt word very well you did. Thank you.