Thursday, April 26, 2012

a mixed bag.

This is hard. I started this post April 7th. It is now April 26th. Sigh. I've got a lot goin' on.

When I started this post, I said "We are moving in less than two weeks. Our house looks like this." And interestingly enough, now that we actually have moved, our new house looks very much the same.

photo credit - I had my own photo of boxes and chaos but somehow cannot find the memory card it is on... chaos, I tell you.

It paralyzes me, the piles of boxes and things that don't get put away why? because we gotta pack it anyway and the clutter that piles up and the endless list of things to do that just never seem to get done.

It's silly, really, but I can be heard saying I am paralyzed.
And I literally feel like I can't move.
It really is all in my head. I just need to bust through.

I had a mad dash get-things-done-a-thon awhile ago, and I tackled and completed many things on a running to-do list in my head that had been nagging at me for some time. I have a series of posts flitting around in my head pertaining to said things on my crazy to do list. Soon.

I made piles and piles of lists to get organized and in preparation for our move--I listed all of the black and heavy pieces of furniture we own (from sunnier house days) and made plans to paint them white. And pale turquoise. I am excited for the work.

But I am even more excited for the reveal.

I patched walls in the old house, preparing for the new family who will live here. I was on a roll. I was knitting more scarves for our adoption fundraiser, packaging items up to send to people, selling items we no longer need and thriving on the overall scaling-down that inevitably comes when you move house. I love that.

I recovered a pair of antique chairs I picked up for $30 for our new front room.
I began a slipcover for our sofa for the new front room... and was already laying out furniture in new rooms in our house in my head. We have already moved the waiting-to-be-painted things over to the new house. The plan was I would sneak over there with coffee and brushes and cans and sprayers sans kiddos and turn up some music and dance and paint the day away. (And I have painted many of them--but NONE of them are done. Spent two full days at the new house, painting painting painting, 18 pieces of furniture white white white... and they all require more than 2 coats, more than 3 coats... so it is   t i m e  c o n s u m i n g   to say the least).

In the middle of all of this we had our calendar filling with appointments with another adoption agency to learn more about international adoptions and make the choice about where we'll go through, and appointments to learn about domestic adoptions for the future.

Then one morning, I realized I was late.
Like, an entire day late.

And since I discontinued pumping (breast milk) for Amos at the end of last year, I have been back to my regular pretty much like clockwork self.

If you know me or have been following my blog you know I have a couple dollar-store pregnancy tests kicking' around. Yup, I do. No shame in being wise with money. They're $1.25. And I can speak from my RN experience that they are the exact same kind we use in doctors' offices.

And, drum roll please?

I am pregnant.



For real.

And to be honest? I had thought that over the last nearly two years, over the course of us being introduced to a different idea of family, of children, that blessed little something extra, true unconditional love, and of my body being completely out of whack--I had honestly thought that as I was getting older, God was asking us to grow our family a little differently. I know He still has this calling on our hearts, but what I'm trying to say in a roundabout way is that I thought I was perhaps no longer able to bear children.

And truthfully I was finally at peace with that, two years later--especially being that both Joel and I were feeling called to adopt. My heart is still longing and aching and being called by our child somewhere out there, waiting for us.

But now, this new baby delays our adoption. Here in B.C., we must wait until our youngest child is at least 12 months old in order to even continue the process of adoption. You can't make all the preparations (as I had initially hoped) to have all your ducks in a row so that once your baby turns one you fly and pick up your other new baby. No dice.

So we're looking at November 2013 at the earliest to just start the process again.

...and I don't want to seem ungrateful--because I am not. I am thrilled to be growing another wee precious babe in my belly.

But still, being the mixed bag that it is, I shed tears for the sideways track our car has been pulled down. Does that make sense? Because that baby's voice out there is still calling my heart. And now we have to wait. Can you imagine?

It really is a mixed bag. So incredibly thrilling to know of new life, a new tiny beating heart as cells are pulled into their specific places and eyes and ears are beginning to form and this new little one is beginning to hear us, their family, their mama and daddy already. Oh, the sheer joy.

But as a mama, my heart is pulled, and called over there, too. And for those babies, those children, those teenagers, I ache. My spirit groans. My heart is stretched and yearning... and aching and groaning some more. And the tears? Sisters? They be fallin'. Unabashedly.

Today I watched a little video of a sweet little girl with Down syndrome dancing to music, and I burst into tears. So much joy as her little movements are so familiar, she reminds me so much of Amos, and yet so much pain as there is a little one in my heart waiting to call me mama just as there is a little one in my womb waiting to call me mama.

Oh, my babes.
Oh, my Father in heaven. Thank You for the gentle and constant way You cradle all of us in the palm of  Your hand.


And again, I trust in Your perfect timing.

I just have to be honest and say that it is a heavy load for a mama's heart. All these littler, trusting, tiny hearts. Such precious little people, and I can't run to each one and save them.

There's another sweet side to the mixed bag, though. We now have loads more time to fundraise, to advocate, to prepare, and to plan, and to pray.

In the meantime, we will move house, finish the year of homeschooling, and watch my belly grow. We get to see what another beautiful baby will look like--what a glorious day! 

I feel so blessed that God would bless us with another child; and I feel so undeserving. To speak to His timing--this news comes right at a time when we were praying for direction in our lives following what I can only call attacks from well-meaning overly zealous religious people.

We prayed for direction, and God reached into my womb and planted new life. 

That's some pretty clear direction.

Jesus, I trust You.

So for now? I post from a perch that is uncomfortably high at our new kitchen counter, swimming in a sea of boxes and a garage full of semi-painted furniture that the contents of said boxes are waiting to be placed in and upon... and so we wait. For several things. A new baby, unpacked home, clean bright new looking furniture, and our other babe waiting somewhere in the world. I still hear you in my heart, little one.

It's a mixed bag, all around. Joy and pain, patience and reward. Balance of it all, and tipping the scales many days. We wait.




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