Tuesday, November 29, 2011
A Blessed Life
How the Heck am I supposed to cover 17 years of my life in one little post? I have to tell you, I am feeling a little overwhelmed here. I want you to know, I have run into several of you around town, some have left comments, others left messages telling me you love my story and look forward to my posts. Well, I appreciate it, but Dang! I am just winging it here. I kind of feel like I owe you all something profound now. So, forgive me if this isn't it.
We have covered how much I felt guided and comforted in my decision. We have covered the love and support I was given by people around me and angels in heaven. We have covered the pain, the sadness, the loss. It is about time for some joy now, right?
I wrote a post a while back--at the moment I am too lazy to link to it; maybe I will later--where I discussed how I think life meanders around the things even the Lord has planned for us. Sometimes, things don't work out exactly according to His design. I could be wrong in that presumption, but it is a theory, anyway. That's why I don't always buy into that whole "Maybe it was not meant to be" saying that people throw out there all the time by way of trying to say something comforting when things don't work out as we had hoped. This is my theory: even when things don't go as planned, the Lord will compensate us for our losses, as we are faithful in following Him.
This has been my life.
My first son was a treasure! He was the joy I sought so desperately. He was not a replacement for the first baby I had; but he was mine. His birth was such a beautiful miracle. And watching his father tear up when he called his own father to tell him that his baby had been born is an image I will always hold dear. I will admit I was a selfish mother. I had a husband who was willing to help, to change diapers, to hold the baby, to get up with the baby. But I wouldn't let him. I wanted to hold my baby all the time--he didn't even want to be held all the time; I just couldn't let him go.
Four more precious babies came after that first. Every two years they came. There were moments these babies did not feel like such a blessing, so close together, demanding in their own ways. But I wouldn't change it for anything. They have been a blessing. I learn so much from each of my sweet children every day. What a blessing it has been as well, to be able to be in the home with them, to teach them, to learn about their personalities and their individual needs. It has been such a gift.
To be healthy. To be able to go anywhere and do anything with my family. We have had some wonderful experiences together. I cherish everything.
I have been able to share my story. What wasn't true at first has turned into an opportunity to bless and support adoptive families in our community. I have been able to work with some expectant young mothers, in our community and in other places. I have offered my support and my knowledge to them. I have presented adoption--and my story in particular--in church meetings and at schools. And I have written about it here, as well as on other social networking sites. I have also been able to connect more recently with women like myself who have had similar experiences with adoption, and that has been a tremendous blessing for me.
When I have said I don't consider myself a tragic figure, I mean it. I know my life has been blessed. And I know many of those blessings I could not have fully appreciated without experiencing the pain and heartache of my loss. I didn't get to continue to communicate with my birth daughter's family over the years, as I had supposed I would be able to. But I never let myself become bitter about that. I held onto a hope that one day we would know each other again. I prayed that that one day would not be forever away, but I knew it might be. That was hard.
But I remembered always that my Heavenly Father knew and loved me. Even if circumstances prevented it or weak human beings (I have been one of them) who said "Not now, Lord. I will. I'm just not ready yet" to those little nudges he sent, may have slowed it down. I believed somehow, some way the Lord would compensate me still. I admit to you, though, hoping in the dark is hard. And there were times life felt really dark.