Ohhhh, y’all. Ohhhohoho, y’all. This week has been quite the week and I am emotionally exhausted. So do you know what that means? Hmm? Oh, a new blog post. You’re welcome. Buckle up. I should make that into a t-shirt: “Oh hey there, having a good day? WELL, BUCKLE UP BECAUSE I GOT STUFF TO SAY”. Oh what’s that? You wouldn’t wear it? *sigh* WELL FINE. [I was going to go full Rocky Horror and say “WELL I DIDN’T MAKE HIM FOR YOU!” But then I realized that… yes… yes that was the whole point of the shirt…]
So, first let me tell you that this past Monday I was diagnosed as bipolar, not for the first time. This, however, is the first time I am choosing to accept this diagnosis. We can talk more about this diagnosis another time if you care to, but I share that on here because it’s an important piece to the puzzle that is the reason as to why I have been so ridiculously emotional this past week. The medication changes I have been dealing with have been a wild roller coaster and I’m just exhausted, mentally and physically. The good news is, the effects have been mostly positive. The bad news is (well, for me), that these new meds have seemed to take away my ability keep up some emotional walls I’ve apparently built and I’m pretty pissed off and annoyed, honestly. I’ve spent the week crying over some things I was certain I was over and I’m angry about it.
I’m all for crying and talking things out, but after years of crying and talking about the same topic – I want to be done. I want to be sooo done. And one of the very big things I want to be done crying over? You guessed it, my infertility. Last month marked six official years since my diagnosis. Six years of praying for a baby and 72 months of a mental checking off of “…nope. not this time…” And very roughly 2,190 days of praying for God to just take this desire to be a parent to a biological child away completely.
As you may have guessed from that last paragraph, we didn’t come to the adoption decision easily at all. In fact, it wasn’t until 2 years into the infertility and 3 years into our marriage that we decided we would try to foster to adopt. I did not even a little bit feel called to adopt. And even though we kept getting put into situations and being surrounded by people who did adopt or foster… and even though my husband had said he’d be fine to adopt… I continued to rebel. And by rebel, I need you to know that I verbally fought and shouted against it. I got angry at the suggestion of it and cut out anyone who would mention it as a cure to my desire to be a mom. Because at the time, my desire wasn’t just to be a mom, it was to be pregnant. And the pain of getting to watch other people around me get to have that part stirred the fire of jealous rage in me that I couldn’t even begin to properly describe. It was borderline psychotic, but it was real.
I prayed constantly that God would take that desire to be pregnant away and help me to just see that being a mom was all I truly cared about. He didn’t take the desire away, but he did finally change my heart toward fostering to adopt two years into our journey. We had four children. Four. Four children we loved. Three children we lost. One child we kept. Fostering kept four children alive, safe, fed, and loved. Adoption kept one child in our house forever.
It’s hard sometimes for me to not be bitter towards adoption. I know that’s a weird thing to say, let me explain. It’s hard for me to not be upset that I wasn’t able to just have my kid myself, that he had to come from someone else. Or that those three kids who were in the system got to go back to their families, when I would have loved them and never put them in the same kind of danger they were in. Why do these people get to have kids while people like me are just out there begging for children to be given to them?
But in the same breath, I can say… what makes me any better? I’m a sinner too. I don’t sin the same way… but we’ve all established that I’m a huge mess, so I need to just sit back and let the pieces fall as they may, right? Because what do I know? I like to think some pretty awesome things ended up happening for the others. (We all know the one that got to stay already got the best life ever, I mean, amiright? *winkwink*) Like “Little”, our very first baby. Oh how I loved him. He was soooo very tiny. He was only 5 pounds and he fit in my husband’s palm. His grandma worked so hard to get him and his siblings back, so I pray they got to all be together eventually. The next one, she was so sweet and snuggly. I would always put way too big bows on her head, but I don’t care. I know she got to go to her auntie. I pray she’s doing great. And I did find out last year that our last foster baby was actually adopted by a different foster family eventually! I’m glad she finally found her forever home, even if it didn’t end up being us.
Adoption definitely isn’t an easy fix to someone who is aching for a family, please know that. But when their heart is ready for it, oh man… it is truly the right fix. ❤
Want to get involved? There is this awesome organization that helps out foster kiddos!
Together We Rise is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization comprised of motivated young adults and former foster youth. Our vision is to improve the lives of foster children in America, who often find themselves forgotten and neglected by the public. We collaborate with community partners to bring resources to foster youth and use service-learning activities to educate volunteers on issues surrounding the foster care system.
TWR works with hundreds of foster agencies, social workers, CASA advocates, and other partners to bring our programs to foster youth across the nation. Our foundation has allowed us to provide thousands of foster youth across the country with new bicycles, college supplies, and suitcases so that children do not have to travel from home to home with their belongings in a trash bag.