Adoption: A Real Problem.

I have tried about a dozen times to write this post. I can't tell you how many versions of this I have saved, rewritten, and edited, and then left alone because they didn't reflect a kind and gentle spirit towards those in our lives. I am going to give it another try in a series of posts to try to educate and inform those in our lives who love us and want to be the best support for us and our children. We know adoption is tricky, and even as parents, we are trying to navigate the adoption waters with care.

Do you plan on having real kids?

What about Hannah's real parents? Do you talk to them?

What does Hannah's real mom look like?

Did her real mom name her?

Will you be mad at Hannah if she asks questions about her real mom?

We hear phrases like this all the time. ALL THE TIME. When Hannah was first born this was a complete dagger to my heart. I would blink away tears and sarcastically say something like, "When she is screaming at 2 AM it feels like she is pretty real..." or "I feel like her real mother at her beck and call 24/7"

But, I have learned as she gets older and I am asked this more and more, people just don't know how to act or what to say when it comes to adoption and the appropriate language surrounding genuine questions. I cannot speak on behalf of every adoptive mother by any means. I know that I still have a lot to learn about how to be the mother God has called me to be to this sweet girl, but a part of being a good mother to her is teaching those around us how to interact with adoption.

I am Hannah's mommy. Josh is Hannah's daddy. She is our daughter without question. She loves the same foods we love. She makes the exact same faces that we make. She even answers the phone with the exact same intonation that I do. I see myself in that little girl every single day and I am so thankful for that. I think that is why it hurts so much when people use the 'R' word.

Real.

I hate that word.

Any time someone uses that word I am brought back to a deep dark spot of a lot of pain. The past 3 years of infertility treatments, doctors visits, loss, and suffering flood my mind. In that moment, I am not a mom. I am an impostor. I am pretending...and this precious little life I wake up to every morning is just a dream that I don't deserve.

Our words have power. They carry weight. With a simple change in vocabulary, you can break someone, or you can encourage them. If we could all just get over this infatuation with biology, we could see that God makes families, and thank goodness for that!

I can't imagine how much the 'R' word will hurt me when Hannah is old enough to understand what people are implying. All I want for my precious girl is for her to know how much we adore her. I want her to know that she is loved and wanted and cherished. I want her to know that my heart could literally burst when I think about how blessed I am that I get to be her mama. I don't want her to feel anything less than my first choice. I want her to know that I would walk through fire for her, give up every single limb just to prove how much I love her.

I have the utmost respect for Hannah's biological mother. I watched her make the choice to place Hannah for adoption. I hugged her tight. I wiped her tears away. I promised her that I would do what she was not capable of doing and give Hannah a wonderful life. When Hannah asks me about her, I will not be threatened. I know that two very young people loved my baby more than they loved themselves, so they did the hardest thing possible and denied their own feelings for her well being. I stood next to that young girl as she reached into her chest and placed her heart on a piece of paper making me Hannah's mom. I respect her choice to be a birth mother. I respect the fact that she knew she would be giving up the chance to see Hannah grow and change, and that maybe one day when the time is right, she might have a little one that calls her mama. I also respect the fact that she knows in her heart, I am Hannah's mama and though she worked very hard to protect the life that grew inside of her, she let's me be the mama.

So next time you are talking to a family who has been blessed by adoption, bless them with a careful tongue. Make sure your words are showing how much you support them as parents and as a family divinely orchestrated. Make sure they know that you love them and think they are doing a great job raising their children. You have no idea how much good that can do.

Decking the Halls

This Christmas is special. We are seeing the sparkly lights, glittery ornaments, and dressed Christmas tree through a whole new set of eyes. These fresh eyes don't see Hallmark ornaments verses dollar store ornaments.  With every ornament that went on our tree, and snowman that decked our halls we heard "Ahhhh" and "Ohhhh".

And this mother's heart was overflowing with gratitude.

As I unpacked our Christmas boxes this year, I was confused at first because the boxes were a little out of order. Ornaments were packed away differently than I normally pack them. Stockings were in different boxes. And then it hit me. I held an ornament wrapped in rubber ducky tissue paper and the tears started flowing down my cheeks. The reason my decorations were haphazardly put away, in baby tissue paper,  is because at the end of Christmas last year, we were in the middle of a frenzy of paperwork, home inspections, and interviews to become Hannah's parents. Friends and family were pouring in and out of our home to all lend a hand. Packing away Christmas ornaments and making sure stockings ended up in the same box were far from our minds. We were in the middle of tearing down an office to make it a nursery, we were writing essays, and being finger printed, and opening up our lives to our social workers in preparation to become parents.

A whole flood of emotion hit me as we decorated this year. God has been so good to us. We prayed and prayed for a child. We saw doctors, read studies, tried a variety of different medications, and underwent dozens of procedures. We were frustrated beyond all words. Last year as I prepared to turn 27, I was hurt, angry, and devastated.  I wanted to be a mom. Little did I know the difference that a month could make- literally! (My birthday is December 9 and Hannah's is January 9). I was too close to the problem and seeing only one solution- but God had a plan so far in motion it left my head spinning.

Last year on my birthday I made Josh drive to a tattoo shop and had this tattooed on my wrist-

It means "We Hope"...We wait with expectation to see what God is going to do.

"We wait in HOPE for the Lord; He is our help and our shield. In Him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in His holy name. May Your unfailing love be with us, Lord, even as we put our HOPE in You."
Psalm 33:20-22

I needed a reminder as I started a new year of my life that God was in control and that my job was to wait with expectation, to hope beyond all reason. I still need that reminder, and this year as I unpacked our decorations, I got it.

Tears streamed down my face as I rocked Hannah to sleep and snuggled up close to her. She was the baby God had for us. She was worth the the chaos, the sleepless nights, the changes in our Holiday plans, and the whiplash that was parenthood for Josh and me. She was well worth the wait. Even though I envisioned giving birth to our first child, having a nursery ready 2 days after finding out we were having a girl, and the normal anticipation that comes with finding out you are expecting, God had different plans in store for me.

I still need my reminder to put my hope in the Lord. For as much as God has done for me, I still struggle in that department. But this Christmas season, as I watch my darling Christmas surprise teetering around the Christmas tree, I am brought just a little bit closer to the Christmas story. Mary waited with expectation to give birth to our Savior. Joseph waited to see how God would fulfill his promise. The season of Advent is all about waiting with expectation. There is little wonder why God chose to teach the Meyer family about waiting with expectation.

Eggnog, icicles, snowman, tinsel, and Christmas trees will always bring back those memories of waiting for Hannah's birth, but even more so, they point to the birth of Christ and the expectation of the One who would save us from our sins.

So, if you see me crying over a snowman Christmas cookie this December, you will know why. God's mercy and grace in my life has been so abundant and unexpected, I can do nothing but sing his praises with a very grateful heart.

Merry Christmas!!!   

Learning to Just Listen

I think that the one thing God is teaching me the most lately is to just be a good listener. It is not in my nature at all to listen. I love to talk and to have conversations and to relate to others. However, I am finding that I tend to talk a lot more than I listen. I don't like that about myself, and it is something that I want to change in my pursuit of being a better friend, wife, and mother.

Over the course of our marriage and becoming parents, we have heard our fair share of others' opinions. I know that it comes from a good place, but almost everyone is an expert when it comes to talking about fertility, pregnancy, and children. I have been told to stand on my head, drink special tea, lay down, stop trying, try harder and the list goes on. It used to really get to me, and if I am honest, sometimes it still does.

Once our sweet addition came, everyone was an expert on how to parent. From sleeping habits, to feeding her, to how to dress her, someone was always telling us what to do or how to do things better. As a new mom, my head was spinning and I was overwhelmed. I struggled with the sneaky feelings that nature had said I wasn't fit to be a mother, and here this baby was in my care and I wasn't doing a good job.

I felt overwhelmed, frustrated, and extremely sensitive. I felt like the next person who told me what to do might get the brunt end of my frustration. I cried about it to a friend one day and she told me that I needed to find balance. She told me that no matter what situation you are in, people have an opinion, and that it isn't a reflection of me as a mother but more so their attempt to help, to be a part of the process, and to support me. She pointed out that I have probably done the exact same thing to others at some point- she is right.

That conversation got me thinking. It allowed me to accept people's opinions and ideas with love and to not be so offended. Now, when someone tells me that I will get pregnant because I adopted (adoption somehow magically clears away tumors, I guess....) I am able to smile, nod, and carry on knowing that they mean well. But more so, I am able to finally see how important it is to just be a good listener, encourager, and supporter.

I've observed what I like to call "Mom on Mom Crimes" on facebook and in friendships. Mom on mom crime is where a struggling mother admits that they are down, having a hard time, or are just venting their frustrations, and other mom's jump on board telling them what they are doing wrong, how to do it better, or what to change. It makes me cringe. It brings me back to sleepless nights where I just wanted and needed support, a grande cafe mocha, or a hug, NOT to be told where I was falling short or what I was doing wrong.

So now, when I see someone struggling or having a hard day, I make it a point to not tell them what to do differently or how to fix their problems. I try to just tell them they are loved, supported or prayed for. I try to put myself in their shoes and trust that in this day and age they are not short on information or wondering what to do. They can google sleeping schedules or talk to their doctor if they are having a hard time with feedings. What they can't do is force their friends to support them. That is in MY power to be there for them.

This concept applies to everyone- mother or not. The single woman (or man) struggling to see God's plan for her future and desires to get married does not need advice on how to find a husband. She needs a friend who listens, prays for her, and allows her to just be honest. She knows about getting out there and all about eHarmony already.

Of course there is a place and time for your opinion, but I am learning how much better it comes across when I wait for someone to ask for my opinion.

Who could you encourage today just by showing your support? Tell someone they are loved, take a coffee to a new mom, call someone who just needs to be listened to today!

Children Are Disgusting

Those of you with children or who have spent significant amounts of time with children, back me up:

Children are disgusting!

If you are aware of that, read on...

This past week we had dinner with our close friends. They have two girls, ages 3 and 1, and Hannah adores them. We have dinner with them on a regular basis so we have gotten into a bit of a groove. We feed the children, stick them all in the bath together, put them in PJ's and let them play while we eat. No matter whose house we are at, things just go smoother if the girls get their dinner and bath.

Being that Hannah is an only child, she is used to bath time alone. She thinks it is so much fun to have friends in her bath, and until recently, I didn't think anything of it.

Enter in Friday night. The men were upstairs supervising bath time while the ladies were downstairs making dinner. We were in the middle of chatting and chopping when we heard major commotion and the dreaded words, "DOOOOODY! SOMEONE DOODIED IN THE TUB!"

You know that dreaded feeling you get sometimes in the pit of your stomach when you just know it was your child? Yeah, I had that feeling. Let's just say, that wouldn't be the first time that happened...

If you are still reading this and are not totally disgusted with me for sharing this jewel of a story, thank you. I promise, there is a point.

I've been consumed with the concept of friendship lately. What does it mean to be a good friend? Am I a good friend? What qualities do you look for when you start getting to know someone and let them become a good friend?

No matter who pooped in the tub, Hannah has good friends. I am so thankful that she is growing up with girls her age who love her and don't think twice about having to switch bath tubs because someone got a little too comfortable in the warm water. Friendship comes naturally to children.

I would certainly classify myself as a friendly person. Talking to others and connecting with women especially comes naturally to me. However, I am not quick to consider someone a close friend. I need time to develop and nurture close friendships. It takes a long time for me to consider someone trustworthy. I have to know that what I say is heard, and that no matter what happens, they are there for me. I have to feel like I can be myself- even if I 'poop in the tub'- and I will still be loved, appreciated, and forgiven.

I know that I "poop in the tub" sometimes. I say things that hurt my friends. I am too harsh, judgmental, and self-centered sometimes. Knowing that I have people in my life that accept that and love me despite that, is true friendship.

I am learning to put those close friendships that I have under a microscope and to examine what makes them productive friendships. I try hard to be a good friend, to apologize when I need to, to listen when needed, and to be there in a heartbeat for the people in my life who I love. I know that I need my friends to extend grace to me, and that I need to do the same for them.

Learning to be reflective about my friendships has taught me so much about living a joyful life. Friends come and go in our lives, but good and true friends are worth fighting for- even if they "poop in the tub" sometimes.

What qualities are important to you in your close friendships? Take a minute today to tell a close friend that you are thankful for them! What an encouragement to be thanked for the friendship you've extended to someone!

Back in Action

Vacation is over!

After Hannah was born, I decided that I needed a break from sharing what has been happening in my life and focus all my attention on the precious little gift in front of me. Motherhood was sprung on me and I wanted to be really great at it, so I put lots of "extras" on hold.

However, I am feeling so much more comfortable in my new role, and I am excited to share what God has been teaching me through this gigantic change, through friendships, and through life in general. I am still on a quest to be a joyful person, no matter what, and I want to continue sharing these experiences through one of my favorite avenues- BLOGGING!

Thank you for taking time to be a part of my journey!
*MB*

Mother's Day

How can I even begin to describe how it feels to be a part of this special day to honor mothers? There are honestly no words to describe the feeling of waking up on a Sunday morning to a beautiful little girl singing in her cradle right next to my bed. I propped myself up on my arms and looked over at her, and she flashed a huge smile my way that spoke a thousand words. "You are my mama, I know I can trust you to always be here for me, and I am so happy to see your face." I melted, because I have never been so happy to see her face either.

Mother's Day has been painful for me in the past. Being so far away from my own mother, it makes days like this feel a little lonely. Oh yeah, and there was the whole not having children part that made Mother's Day particularly painful for me.

My journey to motherhood started well before I was married and actively trying to get pregnant. It started when I was 21 years old and told by my first doctor that I needed a hysterectomy. There have been several doctors that followed who agreed. Every time I heard those words I would check that doctor off my list and move on. I was not going to take NO for an answer.

Once Josh and I got married our lives were consumed with doctors appointments, specialists, tests, shots, and surgeries but we never took our eyes off the prize.

And then, one day, we got that phone call that Hannah needed a home. Our lives were forever changed. Sometime I still weep when I think of what a miracle she is. The thing that gets me today is that God knew from the get go that she was going to be my daughter. He knew that despite my pain last Mother's Day that he was already shaping and forming my sweet little girl. I am blown away by God's timing and grace in my life.

I have always struggled with insecurity and feeling a little invisible. Today I don't feel that. Today I feel loved. I feel important because the Creator of the Universe hand picked this child to be mine. Today I feel blessed beyond words.

When I was blogging about my struggles to conceive I would get dozens of emails and messages from couples who were struggling as well. I loved that aspect of my blog because it felt like there was good coming out of my pain; I was able to relate to people and encourage them because I understood. I have struggled a bit with the identity of my blog now that I am a mom, feeling a little guilty using this forum to talk about my life, struggles and all, because I am a mom.

Yet, I feel compelled to say to my readers who have walked this road with me, if you are struggling because life isn't turning out the way that you planned, take heart. God loves you, he sees you pain, and He has a plan. Don't take your eye off of the prize. Pray about it, work hard for it, but mostly trust God to provide. My journey to motherhood certainly did not go the way I imagined it would. I still struggle at times with that- I wouldn't want any other baby than Hannah, but I would have loved to feel her kick first and to be there the second she first cried out. But, her story and ours is beautiful and powerful and leaves all eyes pointed towards God.

I don't know what the future holds for our family. I know that my hearts desire is still very much to get pregnant. I pray that God has more adopted children in our future as well. Whatever the case my be, I know  that every time I get discouraged, all I have to do is look at my sweet baby and I am brought right back to what is most important. God is good, no matter what stage of life we are in.

This Mother's Day I am celebrating the gifts that motherhood has brought me in just four short months. I held my baby in church and cried the most joyful tears as I looked at her and celebrated a gracious God who heard the cries of a young girl. God has given me the desire of my heart and despite the pain along the road, my heart feels full and happy today. The bumps and bruises seem to fade away.

Happy Mother's Day to those who are mothers and those praying to become mothers. My prayer is that whatever phase you are in right now, that you would feel loved and blessed knowing that God hears your prayers and is working on your behalf.

The Baby We Prayed For

Our sweet baby is one month old now! She changes everyday! Now she makes and maintains eye contact, eats 3 whole ounces every meal, and sleeps for longer than an hour at a time! She has gained a pound since birth and grown a whole inch.

Over the past month, Josh and I have started to realize just how big of a story we are living in. As we begin to discover the vast impact that Hannah's birth and addition to our family has made, I am committed to sharing with my faithful readers. I don't think I can even begin to comprehend just how far reaching this story goes, as even last night as Josh and I went to eat at a restaurant, we ran into an old friend who knew our story. Let me be clear, God's hand has been working in our lives well before we even knew it. His plans for our lives are far greater than either of us could ever imagine.

Last April, our church issued a challenge to begin eating like two-thirds of the world eats. I blogged about it and really felt God using that week to speak to me. Josh and I discussed the impact that a week without much food had on us, and decided to begin fasting. We weren't really sure how fasting worked in a spiritual sense, but we knew that we felt called to beginning this discipline. We wrote to a few close friends and family members and asked them to fast with us, every Tuesday. We wanted to specifically fast to pray for a child. We wanted to practice faithfulness and hope. As each month went by and we still were childless, we needed to actively pursue faithfulness and hope.

If you have ever fasted before, you know that sometimes it feels incredible. Your day is filled with focused prayers and you hit your pillow at night feeling like in your own weakness Christ is strong. But sometimes, it is hard. Hunger is a powerful feeling. It impacts your every emotion and leaves you feeling weak and helpless.

There were certainly Tuesdays where our fasting day ended feeling sad and discouraged. Oftentimes, we would pray that I would get pregnant just so we could stop fasting. It is not pretty to revisit some of those discouraging feelings, but it is a huge part of our journey. With each Tuesday, we felt God calling us to keep our eyes on Him. We became more and more aware of the need for a miracle. We also felt like we were breaking through in a spiritual sense to the very core of who God is and what He wants for our lives. God was actively teaching us to follow His leading and we were learning to do so without question. Our fasting days impacted more aspects than just fertility. We began to take a closer look at our finances and started examining our hearts.

Last week, Josh decided to look back and see how many Tuesdays we had fasted. Hannah was born on January 9, 2012. We did not find out that she was in the world until Tuesday, January 10. On the 10th, my mom and I were struggling to get our to-do-list completed that day because our hunger was particularly brutal. And then we got the call that she had been born, and that we should come to the hospital. I was not surprised that it was on a Tuesday that I would hear my daughter was born. What I was surprised about, however, was when Josh breathlessly called me to say that our fast began April 11, 2011. I am no mathematician, but if you will, take a minute and realize that that is exactly 40 weeks. For 40 weeks, Josh and I denied ourselves food to pray for a baby. We met every single Tuesday night by the side of our bed, on our knees, asking God to bless us.

I do not believe in coincidences. I believe in a God who is much bigger than chance. I believe that our days are numbered. For Hannah, that could not be more accurate.

I don't share this story to toot our horn and say, "Look at how spiritual we are..." Quite the contrary actually. I have mulled over even sharing this detail with my readers for almost a week because I want to be careful that you don't take that away from this amazing story. To God be all the Glory. God had a plan for a baby conceived in the middle of April. He had a plan for a woman desperately seeking to be a mom. He had a plan for a man who would make a great dad.

The one thing I was struggling the most with when I knew Hannah would be our daughter was the fact that I was not able to pray specifically for her growth and development while she was in her birth mom's womb. I kept saying, I guess it is a good thing God doesn't need my prayers to make her. But, I was praying for her...for the entire time she was being created and knit together.

We serve a great God. I am blown away by His goodness in my life. I have never questioned that He is good. I have struggled with Him being good to ME. I have felt that I don't deserve good things and that I am insignificant. I have struggled as I considered how desperate others are for a miracle, and I felt selfish letting my prayers be dominated by my own hurts. Yet, God's goodness does not run dry. He cares just as much about my heart's desires as he does the next person's. I am not insignificant to Him; He just needed me to learn how to trust Him so he could unveil his excellent, perfect plan for my life.

Fasting by no means is a formula to get what you want. Don't be confused by that. If you have never fasted, I encourage you to try it, but be sure you understand that it has so much more to do with where your heart is than what you get in the end. We wanted to show God that we were capable of being faithful and that we were willing to deny ourselves for our hearts' desire. God wanted to teach us lessons that could never have been learned without the hurt and struggle.

When I started this blog, I refused to let my pain get the best of me. I knew God was going to be at work in my life and I wanted to be able to share what he was teaching me. I am so thankful that this is MY story. It trumps every possible ending I could have imagined happening on our journey to start a family.

As I write this, Hannah is sleeping right next to me. She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I adore every little noise she makes. I could kiss her all day. I am so thankful that God brought her to us. I would fast 4,000 Tuesdays just to kiss her soft cheeks.

To God be the Glory...He is to be praised!