Its time...

I don't know if my husband will agree with me, but I think its time. The only reason I think its okay to do this without his permission is that it was my heart we were protecting from the start.

Just over two years ago we began something that has indescribably, indefinitely changed us. And for the sake of this particular 'blog'...I am just going to speak first person, though I'm sure my sweet husband's emotions mirror so many of my own.
My heart is weary and tired of hanging onto the hurt of this trial. Part of this heartache I don't get the luxury of letting go of: its not mine to undo. But hopefully, this entry into my 'journal' will allow me the freedom to get rid of the ugliness that I've allowed to linger...to fester, and color my outlook on life.
So many times I've stood to bear my testimony in church and I can only control my emotions so long...and I ramble...and I never really get to say what's in my heart. So, here goes:
When I say the past two years have been hard, its largely an understatement. Believe me when I say that I am not a baby...I do not focus on only the negative. I have fought  to see with grateful eyes...and thankfully, and mercifully, I DO! I am blessed. I am loved. And, I love...so many things, so many people.
But, like I've said a thousand times...I don't understand. But this statement is probably something you don't understand...because I don't use it to encourage sympathy. I don't use it to explain my heartache...solely. I really don't understand. But, I am so thankful for the tender mercies that have given me glimpses...
When Nate and I began the process of adopting our Dasha from Russia over 2 years ago...I was terrified. Mostly, about the money. How in the world would we do it? Well, everyone I'd met in our place was fundraising. It was uncomfortable, but I could lose my pride and do it...right?
Oh, and my favorite, "don't you realize you have five kids already?"
I don't understand it. We entered a journey that terrified us. And suddenly, voices who'd had NO authority to plan our family size with the addition of previous children suddenly felt powerful and entitled. And I was devastated. Betrayed. But, determined to bring home this little girl. My mother begged me to tell the story. That 'they'd understand'...I've come to know they never will. And, I've got to forgive them their ignorance. Because hopefully by recording this, I can finally move on...forgive. Be forgiven.
Nate and I fasted and prayed. We went to the temple. I cannot tell you how many times we prayed about this. And...how the absolute confirmation that we were to pursue adoption of this child was undeniable. How else could we keep going? Every decision...minus those trivial ones like, black sweats or blue sweats?....we try to base on prayer. And faith. And we aren't perfect. But we're trying to do what's right...
But I don't understand...I never will. How did we stumble on a child that LOOKED like she was ours? And why is the pride and evilness of one man able to keep her from the blessings of an eternal family the happiness of normal everyday life in a home? That is something I will never reconcile in my heart. But with faith, I know through examples in the scriptures, that sometimes the choices of others cause suffering for those around them. This is my Dasha's fate.
I love this little chicka. I pray for her every night...that she'll remember our hugs and kisses. Remember being held. And wanted.
And I put my faith in God that he'll cover the rest.

But for the months after the ban on our adoption, I was done. No more. Never again....right? Wrong. Because truth was, Nate and I now craved the love and change that would come by expanding our family through adoption. And, we also knew something else...one silver lining in the sadness of our failed adoption. We knew this child would be down syndrome. And while I pleaded with God for understanding as to why we had been led to Dasha, on how we could be led down this path to only have to face such sadness...I didn't think I'd ever make sense of it.
I haven't, completely. But there is a tiny sliver of knowledge that has become such a comfort to me. One night I was crying to my bestie and she pointed out that perhaps the reason we were led to Dasha...was that another child needed us and that without falling in love with a child who fit so seamlessly...who looked like mine, and stole my heart so quickly...we'd have never considered adopting a special needs child. And she is right. So, so right.
So, we started over. We prayed. We knew. We acted.
I've let my hurt feelings and broken heart steal the joy that comes from this announcement. But...its time.
And I'm praying that sharing this openly allows my heart to heal in some way. Because we are WICKED excited...

You can find out a little about him on Reece's Rainbow...we did. But you don't get to bring him home...cause WE ARE. We better have him home in a few months! We had to start at square one...and I think we've dealt with every stupid person available in the process. But we've also had lots of help, and some of my adoption friends have a place in my heart that no one else will ever have. They've walked in my shoes! We are trudging along...he's worth it :)

My Mom

I expected to be able to sleep a very drug-induced slumber tonight. But Landri's tummy has been acting up all day, and I knew a little fun was coming. I snuggled her into bed, only to hear her whine a little later. I don't feel spectacular, so I was in bed too :) I got up to find a very groggy Lu at the top of the stairs. Nate was in the kitchen so he jumped up, kinda chuckling, and volunteered to take her to bed. He picked her up and she buried her head into his neck...and stinking puked all over him. I seriously doubled over I was laughing so hard. He just stood still and took it like a champ....because she really cleaned little tummy out on him!

I don't know if it was the hysterical fit of laughter, or the cleaning up process...but I'm stinking wide awake. So...what to do? Why not tell the world how much I love my momma.....

I love this woman for so many reasons.  She is kind. My mother would give you anything you asked for...and if she noticed a need she happily fills it without being asked! I can't think of how many kids my mom has tutored after school, not for pay...but because she was confident she could help them be successful where others had failed. I've seen her take on children at school/church that would make anyone a bit crazy...but she does it happily. And she genuinely loves it. She wants to help people: almost to a FLAW! So many times I find myself saying 'mom, you're enabling' or 'that isn't necessary'...but she does it because she knows its right. Over the years she has had alot of needy kids in her classes at school. She is always rummaging through our hand me downs...or asking ME to clean the drawers out, because someone needs something warm, something 'cool'...something. She is kind.
My mom is loyal. This doesn't mean that she buys into whatever you're selling just 'cause she loves you. Nope...its the real deal. She fights for what she knows is best for you, even if you don't know its best. She accepts struggle and heartache in our behalf, and prays harder. I don't know very many times I've ever heard my mom voice a  dislike of anyone...but I've watched her serve people tirelessly because they w ere friends of the family...this is a woman you need on your side.
My mom is a NUT. Seriously....we have a list of stories to tell at her funeral. She is ridiculously smart...book smart. But sometimes the things that come out of her mouth have you dropping yours in shock. Did she really just say that? Can she be that....blonde?
Ex: She has convinced the kids in her schoolroom for YEARS that she eats carrots to keep her hair really black. So when the greys are more than the dark...and she dyes it...and the kids notice...they say, "wow Mrs. Schenk you must have ate some carrots last night!" (hang with me...you will see where I say she's  a ding dong :) ) Well one day we were in the car and she made some random crazy statement and Kenna said, "Grandma, I think underneath that dye job you're really.....blonde" to which my mom replied instantly...seriously...and half panicked....' WHY?! Do I need to dye my hair again?' She totally missed the fact that Kenna was making fun of her, which made Kenna laugh all the harder.
This week Jon and I were talking about some kid in track...high school.... it who dang near gets lapped in the 100. And he just keeps at it, losing badly. We are a bit miffed by this, because our pride couldn't handle it. Props to this kid. But Jon said kind of off-offhandedly..."maybe the kid should try a new race....like long jump" Mom, dear, dear mom....
She looked at Jon seriously and kind of like he was slipping and said, "Jon, the long jump isn't a race." Whooofta. Glad she cleared that up. We all busted out laughing, and had to explain it.
My mom is the world's best grandma. She's the replica of MY grandma...her mom. You know where her paycheck goes? The Store. It buys countless malts, York mints...Mike and Ike's...hot chocolate and diet pop. And gas. Because she comes in and out of town at every grandchild's pleasure and whim. Devotion.

And I wouldn't have it any other way. My children adore this woman. She knows them intimately. What they're good at. What they struggle at. When the need some encouragement from someone other than mom...its her. They have no doubts at all that this woman loves them. And its why they seek her out. "Come drive with me." "Why hasn't she been her tonight?"

She has their hearts.

I love my mom because the last few years have been ROUGH. And, its just occurring to me as I write this...that perhaps this has been the silver lining in a few of my rain clouds. I have NEEDED my mom close so many times. She has scrubbed my toilets, made me soup(not in that order) cuddled me in bed, cried with me, shared her book of favorite quotes, been my confidant, my cheerleader...and dear dear DEAREST friend.

But I cannot pay tribute without mentioning what I admire most about my mother...and its kind of personal.Deeply. But my mother is my modern day pioneer. She is the truest example of faith and sacrifice. My mom's family is very devoutly religious. And I will forever be grateful for that. I knew from the time I was little that my grandparents were God loving people. Good people. Some of the best He's ever made! But my mother converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints when she married my dad. Not BECAUSE she married my dad: my mom won't do anything she doesn't believe is right...remember? And this choice has proved very hard. Because there is a sadness with her family, even to this day...over her conversion to our faith. And....I LOVE THEM FOR IT. It proves  THEIR devotion to her...and their faith. But...my mom truly converted. She has never looked back. She has done things alone because of this choice. There have been many struggles that she faced alone because of it. But I never heard her question God. Her faith is amazing. I hope that my children will one day appreciate the legacy of faith that started with she and my father. Because it is one of my dearest treasures...

And...finally...I love her because she is my mom. Some kids aren't so lucky. You probably weren't so lucky. Because while I'm sure you're arguing in your head that your mom is meeting the standard...she isn't. There's no way. Heavenly Father truly made one of a kind.
If you aren't of my faith, some of awesomeness of this song might be lost on you because the lyrics are from so many of the songs we learned as children...taken and woven together in a beautiful tribute. Its become one of my all time favorites...can't listen to it without crying.
Mom's who truly deserve devotion and praise for a job well done...don't NEED it. They have the adoration of their kids/grandkids to speak to a job well done...
So happy Mother's Day to my mom! I love you Neicy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mr8CGydPB5g

I am so super not sure why that won't post as a link...copy and paste it...its worth your effort :)

Listen...

I have to get these words out of my head. Because I've argued with myself so long over them that they are making me crazy. But the truth of it is this:

I should have listened. And acted. 

I firmly believe that if I'd been quicker to do as I was prompted...she'd be here now. She'd have made it out. She'd have a family who would treasure her.

Instead, she's forever stuck in a dumpy, stinky crap hole with no family. She shares clothes, pajamas, tights and everything else with any child that fits them. She gets her head bopped with a brush when she isn't sitting still to get her beautiful(hopefully still long) hair combed. 

And dang it...I can't wrap my head or heart around it.

Will I one day be able to apologize to this sweet child that I failed her? That I put off what I should have done? That its my fault for not listening....

Bleh. Today is one of those days where my heart just hurts...