Love and Loss {Part Four}

This four-part series on our failed adoption begins here

...

The next few weeks were very hard.  Life had to go on, but I was changed.  I felt so defeated - like the reality of ever being a mom had been pushed back even further.  Again.  I was mad at myself for being naive and optimistic.  I was mad at "C" for changing her mind.  I was mad at God for taking me to a place I had never wanted to go.  I was just mad.  

I stayed home a lot.  I couldn't be around people.  People might be happy, and I wanted nothing to do with happy.  People might have children, and I definitely wanted nothing to do with children.  Kain and I fought constantly.  In my (and his, this was devastating to him too) state of depression we lashed out at one another.  I think that deep inside, we knew we were our own safe place.  Our marriage, built with a foundation on Jesus, could handle the shrapnel.  We could be harsh and we would survive.

I stopped praying.  Stopped cooking dinner.  Stopped cleaning the house.  Stopped caring about much of anything at all.  I packed up the baby clothes we had brought home.  I packed up the bottles.  I put his ultrasound pictures away in a box.  I tried everything to get him out of my mind.  But he was always there.  He's still there.  I still think about him and what he would be doing now.  The week of his due date was especially hard.  I kept thinking to myself, "I'm supposed to be at home right now rocking my new baby, instead here I am.  Hopeless"  

In the first few days, I found an article on failed adoption.  I read it about 100 times.  {Read it here}  It was exactly what I needed to hear.  This failed adoption wasn't our fault.  And "C" wasn't a malicious villain either.  She didn't handle the situation like I would have chosen, but I have to assume that she did the best with the resources she had.  I have to trust that we met "C" and her baby at that time for some reason.  I have to be confident that our omniscient God walked with us through this hard time to prepare us, or to teach us, or demonstrate his faithfulness.  

*****

Philippians 1:6 And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

1 Peter 1: 6-7 In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

*****

Today I am doing well.  I still feel sad when I think about our baby boy, who wasn't really ours.  I still deeply long to see his face, to know he is healthy and loved.  But I also know that I owe it to our future children to move forward.  I can't let a failed adoption derail our plans forever.  I can't stay stuck in the mire and the pain.  Eventually Kain and I had to pick ourselves up, give each other a big hug and decide that it was time to keep moving. 

We finished our adoption paperwork, had our second meeting with our social worker, and should receive our final approved home study any day now!  We have selected an adoption agency and are preparing our  home, hearts, and finances for completing a domestic newborn adoption sometime soon.  

We recognize that on the road to growing our family, this may happen again.  That reality is hard to swallow, but it's a fact that we have to accept.   Adoptions fall through.  It's painful and devastating, but it's part of the story.  Our story so far has been rocky.  And although we made it through this tough chapter, our story doesn't yet have a happy ending.  One thing that we learned at the Together for Adoption Conference this year is that in the end, adoption makes everything sad become untrue.  Adoption has already and will continue to change our story.  Adoption will change our child's story.  I'm looking forward to sharing all of that with you.

My friend, if you are in a place anything like we were; a failed adoption, infertility, miscarriage, longing for a child that you'll never get to know -- I'm praying for you.  I know that there aren't words that take away the ache.  There aren't words that fill the gaping hole.  But there is hope.  Hope in a Savior who makes all things new (Revelation 21:5), hope in a peace from Him that passes all understanding (Philippians 4:7), and a hope that he knows your heart (Matthew 7:7, Psalm 139).  

Choose Hope.

Love and Loss {Part Three}

Read our story of Love and Loss from the beginning here

....

"C" and I continued to talk almost every day, she sent me long messages about how she knew that she had made the right choice in selecting us to parent her child, that we came into her life at the exact right moment when she was hopeless and saw no way out.  She gave me parenting advice.  She told me she was reading books to her belly so that the baby would like to read.  She constantly referred to us as her answers to prayer.

A few weeks later, "C" and I went to the doctor's again.  It was time for her second ultrasound.  She let me sit in the dark room with her while the technician poured clear gel on her swollen belly and used that magic wand to show us pictures of the sweet baby growing inside her.  He was perfect.  He was growing just right, developing exactly like he should.  

"C" told the technician of our chance meeting in the waiting room.  She introduced me to everyone at the office as "the baby's mom."  I was floating, a perma-smile plastered across my face.  "C" didn't hesitate to hand me the ultrasound pictures, telling me that they were mine, because he was mine.  I met her Obstetrician, he seemed confused at first but was very supportive once we explained our situation.  

The doctor let me use the Doppler to find baby's heartbeat.  I stepped into the hallway to give "C" some privacy during her exam.  As she was getting dressed, the doctor came out and gave me an update - that everything looked great! Baby was due in early July and things were progressing just as they should.  Because "C" had started her prenatal care a little late, they would monitor her closely but he didn't anticipate any complications.  

Neither did I.

On a Wednesday morning I sent "C" a text to check on her.  This was totally normal, we talked almost every day.  I asked her how she was doing.  Her response was, 

"Not good.  Me and my kids got kicked out of our house and my phone is getting turned off.  We have to find somewhere to go now" 

That was the last time I ever heard from "C".  I sent her message after message asking what she meant, if she was safe, if there was anything I could do.  I wanted to tell her that if she called her adoption attorney, she had access to moneys from us for living expenses.  I wanted to tell her that if nothing else, she and her kids could come over and camp in our living room until she sorted everything out.  I wanted to tell her to please tell the baby I loved him.  I wanted to hear from her.

The next morning was our home study.  I got through the meeting with the thought that maybe her phone had in fact gotten turned off and she would text me again once she had gotten a replacement.  I tried to ignore the nagging gnawing feeling in my belly that said something had gone awry.  

We finished our home study meeting without incident.  Our social worker was sweet and energetic.  She asked us questions, toured our home, and gave us a tree's worth of paperwork to work on.  We would meet again in a few weeks for a second meeting and finalization would happen after that.  Home study, check.

That night I got a message from someone claiming to be "C's" cousin . She told me that "C" had moved to West Virginia to live with her grandma, that she had decided to keep her baby and start a new life with her other kids.  I asked if I could call her? Text her? Contact her in any way?  No.  Grandma's house had no phone and there was no cell service there.  I was cut off.  

It took a few days for it all to settle in.  Our baby was gone and there was absolutely nothing we could do about it.  I wept, I threw things, I screamed at God.  I slid into depression, deep and dark and endless.  All I wanted was him.  All I wanted was to see his sweet face.  I carried a picture of him with me, taking it out in private moments to study his features again.  

I had been so sure, I had been so confident.  I had been so foolish.

...

Love and Loss {Part Two}

Missed Part One? Catch up here

...

I couldn't believe what just happened.  Had I dreamed this? Had I actually just approached a perfect stranger and offered to adopt their unborn child? Am I crazy? Am I brave? Will I ever see her again?  Will she have me arrested?  Committed?  What is Kain going to say? About 487,000 thoughts raced through my head.

Waiting for the doctor, I sent Kain a text that quickly summed up what had just happened and told him that I was shaking and my heart was racing (perfect for getting your blood pressure checked, right??).  We sent each other a few texts and then I settled in for my appointment.  All that was running through my head was "is this for real? Is this for real?"

While I was getting blood drawn after my appointment I received a text message from the woman in the lobby (let's call her "C").  It said, "Can I call you in like an hour so I can tell you my story and we can go from there?"  I almost died right there in the lab.  I got in the car to head home and just started to pray.  I realized that it was the first time I had stopped to talk to Jesus about what had happened in the last hour.  Humbled, I paused before driving just to apologize for not having Him at the forefront of my mind when my life started to change.  The drive home was spent talking to my Savior.  I thanked him, praised him, expressed my fears, pleaded my desires, and ultimately told him that I wanted to live inside of his will.

That afternoon, "C" called me.  We spoke for maybe 20 minutes.  She told me about her life, her two children, her divorce, her wild lifestyle after her divorce, and her completely unplanned pregnancy.  She told me that she had been on birth control and had only found out that day that she was pregnant, having a baby boy, that she was about five months along, and that my note was an answer to her prayers because she knew that she couldn't take care of a baby right now. She asked if I could meet her at another doctor's appointment the next week so we could talk more in person.  She asked a little about our life and why we were adopting.  We ended our conversation with the promise to speak again soon.  I melted into the couch, overwhelmed by the day.  Kain and I sat in silence for a while.

A few days after "C" and I met, I contacted an adoption attorney to gain some guidance and wisdom.  She was wonderful to work with.  She, herself an adoptive mother, celebrated with me on the phone, saying that our story gave her chills.  She pointed me in the direction of a social worker to get our home study started and told me that she would represent us and would find an attorney for "C". I had a plan.  I felt confident and excited.  Everything was falling into place.

I met "C" at the doctor's office for her second appointment.  When I first got there, she hugged me and gave me the baby's first ultrasound pictures.  I was immediately in love with him.  His perfect profile melted my heart.  I traced the shape of his face with my finger over and over, dreaming of what it would be like to stroke that round soft cheek in real life soon. "C" spoke surely and matter-of-factly.  She knew that adoption was the right choice and she didn't want anyone but me (and maybe Kain) in the delivery room.  It was surreal.  It was perfect.  It was overwhelming.

We spent the next several weeks over the moon.  We talked baby names and nursery themes.  We heard from "C" almost every day.  She would text me, send videos of her baby belly rolling around, call to chat here and there.  She referred to him as our baby, not hers, and always called me his mother.  We scheduled another doctor's appointment when she would have a second ultrasound.  We were falling deep and hard for this baby.  We loved him already, in an inexpiable way.

Slowly, we told our family and friends.  Everyone was amazingly supportive.  It was a dream.  When we told our community group, our closest friends sat in our living room and wept in joy with us.  They lifted us up in prayer, they were as supportive as we could hope. Our families reactions were equally wonderful.  No one had anything but encouragement, optimism, and love to offer us.  We soaked up every moment.

Kain and I had a discussion about being excited.  We knew that we had two choices.  We could either: 1) allow ourselves to fall in love with this baby, be excited, tell everyone, and risk the heartbreak if anything would change.  Or 2) be guarded, optimistic, but guarded.  Ultimately, we decided that we would go with option 1 and allow ourselves to be vulnerable and experience all that this situation had to offer.

At the recommendation of our attorney, we quickly contacted a social worker and scheduled our first home study visit.  We knew that things needed to move quickly, we didn't want to wait around to get the process in order, we didn't want to be scrambling at the last minute.

Life was bliss.  We had a baby on the way, and an unbelievable story about his entrance into our lives.  It was just absolutely above and beyond what we could have imagined.

....

Love and Loss {Part One}

At the beginning of 2013, Kain and I challenged ourselves to "get serious" about adoption.  We were ready to be parents.  We knew that adoption was our plan.  We acknowledged that usually, adoptions don't complete themselves.  It was decided that before my 30th birthday (in March) we would complete the application to the agency we had chosen and start moving toward expanding our family.

*****

There is a certain doctor's office that most women visit just once a year. I was there. For that appointment. And I was late. I hate being late. Finding a doctor who will take me on as a patient has been difficult because my condition is very rare; an estimated only 2-5 out of 200,000 births. My current doctor is about 50 miles away from home. Being late is sometimes unavoidable, especially when the highway is under construction. 

In my flustered state, I rushed through the doors and went immediately to the reception desk.  I honestly didn't even see her standing there in front of a row of windows.  It was while I was digging through my purse for my insurance card that I first heard her talking. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop.  That's rude, of course.  But, other than the receptionist, she and I were the only people in the silent room.  Even as I tried not to listen, it was impossible not to hear.

I heard her say something about "five months" and "had no idea." I heard her say that "it wouldn't be fair to her other kids" and that it was "so crazy to be able to see a face already." My heart stopped when I heard her say, "I'm not going to kill it, I just want to find it a family that can love it and take care of it."

I was only getting one side of this conversation, and I had walked into the middle of that as it was. But I knew. I knew she had just found out she was pregnant and she was looking for an adoptive family for her baby. And I couldn't help myself. 

I dug through my purse and found a piece of paper, I borrowed a pen from the receptionist who was oblivious to what was happening as she updated my personal information and added my new insurance to my file. I was shaking so badly that I had to start over, but I managed to scribble out

"My husband and I are hoping to adopt. You should call me. Seriously. 

Kate" 

I wrote my phone number on the paper and took a deep breath. Then I turned around and handed it to her just as the receptionist told me to head back to the exam room. I watched her read the note and she looked up at me and said "Thank you. Thank you very much." I smiled, nodded my head and walked through the door to my appointment. 

.....

Learn What I Learned: MercyFound Ministries

"Learn What I Learned" is an idea I've been swirling around.  I love reading blogs. And I love sharing what I read with anyone who will listen!  So, what if when I come across something I think you'd like to know, I just give you the link instead of trying to recreate the original words or ideas?  You get the benefit of discovering new authors, blogs, and resources.  I get to keep reading other blogs, learning new perspectives, and investing in new stories.  The linked blogs gain new audiences and encouragement.  

Win-win-win.  Trifecta!! :)

**** 

A few weeks ago, Kain and I were blessed to attend the Together for Adoption 2013 conference in Louisville, Kentucky. It was a rich time for us. Together we lifted our hands in worship, dug into the Word and it's lessons about adoption, and learned of resources for fundraising, support, and friendship. 

During the conference, I discovered MercyFound Ministries. Here's some info about them from the Together For Adoption website:

MercyFound Ministries was founded by three adoptive mamas who connected through each other’s blogs. From their experience, these ladies realized the potential for blogs to be so much more than just a place to share pictures and updates with family. Through connecting and networking with other adoptive moms in all stages of the adoption journey, these ladies found ways to use blogs and online networking as a means to minister to adoptive families and inspire others toward orphan care. This session will discuss using your words to encourage, support and minister to adoptive families as well as ways in which adoption ministry can be done right where you are.

And here is what they have to say about themselves! Love the action shot at the bottom.

We went to their breakout session about blogging your adoption story.  That half hour was the pat on the back I needed to start this blog.  Stephanie and Melissa were super entertaining and they have beautiful stories to boot!

I read a great post on MercyFound's blog today.  It's about questions. Although I'm certainly no expert, I have to assume that questions are a common theme in most family's adoption stories.  Even though we have only been actively going through this process for a few months, I already know that some questions are great, and some are uncomfortable and hard to answer.  Learn what I learned here

Thanks friends!

Come back next week to read about how our adoption process got kick-started a few months ago!

Breaking the News

Kain and I met in 2007. I say it was a blind date, he says that lunch at Wendy's with my brother and nephew sitting with us at the table doesn't count as a date. Regardless, we both agree that it wasn't a love connection. We didn't see each other again for over a year, and it took a few months after that for us to really begin to warm up to one another. 

We had so many reasons not to date each other. We were resistant even to the idea! Fortunately for us, we were surrounded by friends and family who knew us better than we knew ourselves. Fortunately God is bigger and smarter than our own concepts of what we want and need. 

After months of persuasion and pressure from our friends we went on a real date. It was while Kain drove me home from our dinner and shared with me his testimony and desire to be a godly husband and father someday that I knew. I knew that I had just been on my last first date. I knew that night that someday I would be his wife.

{Summer 2009}

*****

During my dating days, I felt that the best way to handle knowing about my infertility was to be honest about it. I felt like if a relationship was going to have any chance of success, all involved parties needed to have all the facts. I can say that not being able to "have my own kids" was an issue for some guys and since it was an unavoidable part of my reality, those relationships did not progress. 

 I remember that it was a Sunday afternoon. Kain and I were at my brother's house having lunch with his family. My sister-in-law asked me in private if I had told Kain yet about my medical background. I said to her, "I will, but I just want to make sure that he's serious about us moving forward" It was maybe an hour later that my sweet guy told me that he planned on marrying me one day. I was overjoyed to know that we were on the same page, but terrified that he would change his mind once he knew the truth. 

After I spilled my guts, Kain was very supportive. I told him that if life were a buffet, I wouldn't put infertility on my plate and I didn't suppose he would either. I told him to take his time and think about it, because it wasn't something we could change. I told him that he had a free pass to walk away with no hard feelings, that I would be crushed but I would understand. 

We parted that evening with Kain saying that he had a lot to consider and we would talk the next day. I was sure that he would run. Who would pick this? Who would choose paperwork and home studies over morning sickness and epidurals? To me, infertility was the end of hope, the end of promise, the end of dreams. To me, it would be worth walking away. 

The part of this story that I love the most is what happened next. Kain didn't run, but he didn't  make light of a life altering decision either. He prayed about it, sought counsel from a wise friend, and talked openly with me before making his choice. Then he sat me down and told me the most heartwarming thing I've ever heard. 

"Katie, I love you and I want you to be my wife and the mother of my children; no matter where they come from. "

{Swoon}

He chose me. And everything messy that choosing me entailed. He is my best friend and my favorite guy. I'm grateful every day that he decided to stay. I wouldn't want to travel this journey through life and adoption with anyone else by my side. 

{Summer 2013}

Saying Goodbye to my Buddy

I know that this post will not be for everyone, but I needed to put my thoughts on virtual paper. Just a few days ago I posted about our family, including our two pets. Today, our family has gone from two pets to one.

*****

Around Labor Day of 2011 Kain's mom and I were having a garage sale. One evening while getting everything all set up for the sale I thought I heard a cat crying. Sure enough, under a big pine tree in the backyard was a teeny tiny kitten covered in dirt and sap and starving for food and love. I was immediately enamored and named her Frances. Kain said I could keep her as long as our landlord was on board, which fortunately he was.

{Hairy cat + no air conditioning = this}

At first or little furry friend was timid, but time and effort brought out a playful and feisty personality. A few weeks later we had the kitten vetted and found out that she was about two months old and.... a boy! Frances became Francis and life went on.

{so handsome!!}

Over time we learned that Francis loved bird watching, chasing lights and lasers, drinking from the bathtub faucet, and soft (not crunchy) treats. We also discovered that Francis did not love car rides, collars, wet food, thunderstorms or being held. He is very particular about who pets him, when and where they pet him, and for how long they pet him. If more than a few people come to our house he hisses and hides. If you haven't gotten out of bed to give him his treats by 6 am, he's relentless about waking you up. And If he miraculously wants to sit on your lap, there's no stopping him. Until he's done.

{Fresh Linen scent kitty}

He really isn't very friendly, but he's been a good cat. That is until a few months ago when he decided that his liter box was optional. We have tried everything that is reasonable and spent more cash than was logical on trying to get him to stop using our couch (and a few times, our BED) as a secondary poop spot. Kain, who is by nature not really a cat lover, has been more than patient with my attempts at feline behavior modification. But yesterday's couch surprise was our "enough is enough" moment.

{Hiding under the coffee table during a storm}

Tonight we took our Francis to a friend's farm so he can live the free nomad life he longs to live in their horse barn. He can finally chase birds, eat grass, catch mice, and poop wherever he wants. I know he will be happier, he is always trying to escape when we go in and out our door, he is desperate to be an outdoor cat.

{Dreaming of life outside}

Francis, {also known as Frank, also known as Buddy Cat, also known as Francisco Bodafuco (because I joke that he is an Italian mob boss), who's full name is Francis James Hunter Cat} this is harder on us than you probably care about. We are not sending you away because we don't like you, our because we haven't tried EVERYTHING to make you stop this unacceptable behavior. You will always be our first pet, and will forever hold a special place in our hearts. But for the sake of our sanity, and our sanitation, you have to go.

{sitting pretty}

Be free! I hope you make friends and love your new home. I will miss you terribly and will always remember your crazy antics.

Bye sweet Buddy :(

Not our Plan B

Throughout my life, I've dreamed of several different career paths;  obstetrician, fashion designer, midwife, party planner, pastry chef, well-kept housewife (I'm still considering that last one...).  I have worked in retail, sales, administration, in-home childcare, and now - nursing.  Needless to say, I have never really known for sure what I wanted to be when I grew up; with one exception.

One of my most vivid childhood memories is playing "Interview" with my older sister.  The game essentially involved us using our micro cassette recorder (remember those??) to ask each other totally creative and in-depth questions like "what is your name" and "how old are you"

{Here we are being cute, telephone earrings and all...}

I remember one specific interview in which Nancy asked me how old I was.  I answered honestly "Four" and then immediately added "wait, wait, wait, Nancy, go back.  I want to be a mother"

I wanted to be a mom.  I still want to be a mom.  I've always wanted to be a mom.  It's one of the only things that's ever been for sure.

*****

When I was almost 15 I was diagnosed with a genetic condition that makes pregnancy impossible.  Not unlikely, not difficult; impossible.  Never gonna happen.  No way, no how.  My body was not designed to do what "women are designed to do."  

Because of my medical condition Kain and I knew before we got married that someday we would adopt.  We didn't have a choice, but we also didn't need a choice.  We love the beautiful correlation between adoption and our relationship with Christ.  Through salvation we are adopted into the family of God.  We are given an identity as His child.  We call on Him as our Abba, Father.  

Adoption wasn't our Plan B.  Growing our family through adoption is what we want.  It's what we're working for.  We don't feel like we're settling for second best, or secretly wishing we could have "real children".  We are purposefully and intentionally moving toward our goal of adopting a child and welcoming him or her into our forever family.

If infertility is part of your story, I'm praying for you.  I know the longing.  I know the desperation.  I know how infertility makes you feel incomplete.  I've been the girl crying in the bathroom after ANOTHER friend announces a pregnancy.  My friend, you are not alone.  Wherever your path is leading, you have my prayers.  You have my support.  And you have a place with Christ.  Turn to Him.  Give Him your pain.  

If you need an ear, that's what this is all about!  Send me a message, leave me a comment, and let me travel with you!! 

Prologue

Lets just go ahead and get the awkward introduction stage out of the way.

Hi there, my name is Kate. I'm married to my favorite guy, Kain. We've been hitched for just over three years.  We live in a suburb of Columbus, Ohio with our pooch Ranger and our kitty Francis.  They're best friends (maybe only in my mind). Here are some pictures so you can put faces with the names. 

•••••

Happy on our wedding day 6-19-10

{copyright Ed Vaflor Photography}

Date night summer 2013 - 3D glasses are the coolest. 

Ranger (4 months old), also known as The World's Cutest Puppy

Francis (2 years old), also known as The World's Least Friendly Cat

•••••

We believe fully in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We believe that we are wretched sinners saved only by the grace that He displayed on the Cross. Our love of Him is the glue that holds us together and the foundation on which our relationship is built. 

We both have day jobs - Kain runs a small business doing lawn care and I work as an RN at a local hospital.  Together we serve at our church by leading the elementary aged kid's class on Sunday mornings and hosting a weekly community group in our home. 

As of today, our family is just the two of us.  That's kind of the reason I started this blog. You see, Kain and I are at the beginning of our adoption story. I really wanted a place to document our experience, our emotions, and all the crazy happy beautiful details along the way. 

I'm honored that you have spent time at Crazy Happy Beautiful and I hope you stop by again! I look forward to sharing the rest of our story with you. I hope to create more than just a blog, but rather a full-fledged online community. So as I move forward, please comment, ask questions, give input, and allow me to get to know you too. 

Thanks friends! Stay tuned...