Keep the plates spinning

You know those fancy trick guys who put a plate on top of a stick, spin it, and keep it spinning without falling off?  I've been thinking about those guys a lot the last couple days.  And it reminds me of life.  We all have things to keep spinning.  Sometimes we are the one who starts the plate and other times a stick is handed to us and we just have to keep it going.  

In the last few months I have felt - in more moments than I care to share - that I wasn't going to be able to keep all my plates spinning.  Wife, mother, photographer, ombudsman, friend, teacher, cook, maid, daughter, sister, etc, etc, etc... it was a lot to keep spinning all at once.  The thing is, you never know how close you are to that point until you are to that point.  People would hand me spinning plates and I'd gladly take them.  I'd see others struggling with a plate so I'd offer to take it.  Then I'd think, huh, a pink spinning plate would be cool...so I'd start a pink spinning plate.  And then I'd stack plates on top of ones already spinning.  And all the plates are great and need someone to spin them, and I am more than capable, so why not me?  And every once in a while one would wobble a bit and require a little extra TLC to keep it from toppling off it's precarious perch.  And that was fine.  I'd take my eyes off the steady spinners long enough to tame the nervous plate.  But then I had more than one wobble at the same time...and the wobbles became more than wobbles and I didn't have enough eyes or hands to tame the finicky dishes.  I did my best to keep them all from falling, but some did.  And the unfortunate thing is the ones that fell are some of the ones that matter most to me.  I was so concerned about keeping plates spinning that could have been kept going by someone else that a few of my own crashed to pieces.  

Over the last month I have learned a few things: 

I don't need to spin all the plates.  

It's ok to sometimes say no to someone who wants you to spin one.

It's even ok to ask someone else to take one and have a turn spinning it.  

Next year I will spin less plates, and I'll only spin the ones that REALLY matter.
It's my only resolution.  

"Perks" of living in Italy

There are so many wonderful things about living in Italy - but there are days that I long for the comforts and conveniences of home.  I think the honeymoon phase of our Italian life has definitely passed.  For example.  It is cold.  I've mentioned that before, and YES I grew up in Utah with snow and freezing temps but you know what we also had?  Insulated houses and central heating.  Here all the houses are made of cinder block and have NO insulation.   We can run our radiators or a space heater and it will take the chill off but because the walls/ceiling/floor are cement the heat goes away very quickly.  When we wake up our house is routinely 50 degrees...INSIDE.   I'll turn the radiators on (oh how I wish they could be set on a timer!) for an hour to take the bite out of the air.  But once I take Miles to school I just layer, layer, layer to keep warm.  Thermal undies, leggings, sweatpants, hoodie, socks, and slippers.  I will run a space heater under my desk while I work...and that is heaven!  In the evening we'll run the radiators for another hour, maybe...only if it's super cold.  Why don't we just run the radiators all day you ask?  Well...because it is SPENDY.  Like, super spendy.  We figured out that we use 7 litres of gas for every hour the radiators are on.  Gas is about $1/litre.  So if we have the radiators on for 3 hours a day for the month it would end up costing us about $600/month.  And that only keeps our house warm for THREE hours a day...the rest of the time it would hover between 50-55 degrees.  That is a LOT of money to pay for not a lot of comfort.  Hence the reason for the layering and the snuggies and the massive quantities of hot chocolate/cider/tea ingested. 

Also - the power.  Oh mamma mia.  If it rains, our power goes out.  If we have too many things plugged in, the power goes out.  If it surges (which happens almost every day at least once), the power goes out.  And "too many things" is not many at all.  For example...I cannot run the washer and dryer at the same time as a space heater (or the oven, or the microwave).  So earlier this week when Miles had rotovirus and I had 4+ loads of laundry to do (our washer/dryer are TINY) I had the choice...clean, barf-free clothes/sheets/blankets or warm feet.  I opted for barf free and put on an extra pair of socks.  So we froze all day while I did the four batches of laundry. 

Imagine it is 5:30pm and you are hungry...and you don't want to cook dinner.  In America your options are unlimited....well, limited only by budget.  Here?  Nothing.  Restaurants will all be closed still from riposo and won't re-open for dinner for another hour and a half at least.  There is a McDonald's at the airport...and a Burger King over near IKEA...both are 30+ minutes away and not what I want.   

And everything will get done "domani" (tomorrow).  We have been having problems with our cell phone company since MARCH.  They keep saying "give us a week and we'll fix it".  Yep...it's been a LOT of weeks and nothing is done.  Customer service is non-existent here in Italy.  You don't like it?  Tough.   Even when I threatened legal intervention I was laughed at!   Our landlords seem to be the exception to "domani".  If something is broken or needs attention they help that day - or at the VERY latest the next.  We are SO grateful to have them!  

Italian food is amazing.  Seriously.  But what I would give for a plate of sushi.  Or a bowl of Thai curry.  Or Chick-fil-A.  Or (gasp!) Olive Garden's salad.  Italians aren't big on other culture's food.  At all.  We found one "Chinese" place that does ok...but it's almost an Italian's interpretation of Chinese food.   And there are a couple sushi places downtown Naples...but I hear mixed reviews.   I can make things of course  - provided I can find the ingredients.  Cilantro, avocados, and yellow squash are hit or miss at the base grocery store.  And things like Lemongrass and masago and spaghetti squash are impossible to find.   I've found raspberries here twice.  

Speaking of food.  A lot has recently come out in the media about thousands of tons of toxic (in some cases nuclear) waste being buried all around where we live...in the towns where our produce is grown.  It is frightening.  It's obviously not good for us...but then if we were in the states we'd be dealing with GMO's...not sure which is worse. 

I know this seems like a whiny post - and it is.  I love living in Italy 90% of the time.  But I've had a rough week here and I need to vent.  And I also want to have this down so when I'm back in the US someday feeling nostalgic for Italy that I can remember that it wasn't all smiles and butterflies.  Not that living in the US is all smiles and butterflies either...

Peace and panic in Switzerland

Remember the week I spent in Switzerland last summer?  Well the opportunity came up again this year (the Rome Temple is still not completed) and so we made plans to go as a family.  Nathan put in the leave request and it was approved.  I was excited to be able to share this time with him, and with Miles.  Then a few days before we are supposed to leave Nathan gets word that his deployment is being extended a couple days...and will keep him from going.  So now we have a choice to make.  Do Miles and I still go or do I go and leave Miles here with friends for the one night until Nathan gets home?  After much debate we decide that I should still go...and go alone.  The trip is non-refundable so someone should definitely go yet me in all my morning sickness glory trying to wrangle a very active two-year old who just learned the word NO all while sharing a twin size bed with him?  Not. Gonna. Happen.  

So I make the arrangements and start to make my packing lists.  Sunday comes, I drop Miles off, and a friend drops me off at the bus station.  The bus ride up was HORRIBLE.  Seriously...I was in tears and seriously considering getting off in Milan and hopping a train back home.  But I wanted SO BADLY - and needed, really - to go to the Temple.   So I prayed to God..."Dear God, I want to go spend this week at the Temple.  Please help me to make it through this bus ride."  The bus didn't leave our area until 8pm and we were stopping every two hours...the whole way up.  My smashed-by-fetus bladder was very grateful for the frequent stops, but herding 80 Italians through a rest stop every two hours was trying on the group leader's patience.  I was also sharing a row with someone, and sitting behind a GIANT man.  Seriously...think offensive lineman.  When his seat was reclined it came a hand width's distance of my face (put your hand in front of your face, perpendicular...notice where your pinky is? Ya, that's where the chair was.)  We didn't get to Bern until 1pm the following day.  By then my feet were swollen, I hurt everywhere, and I was long past queasy.  As soon as I got the key to my room in the hostel I went in and took a nap.  It was heavenly!  

The following morning I was able to attend the Temple.  I was overcome by the Spirit more than once...moved to tears.  It's such a wonderful place to be and I had missed it so much.  (The Swiss Temple is our closest Temple...until Rome is done)   Over the next couple days I was able to go each morning and each afternoon - which was WAY more than last year.  I soaked in the Spirit of the Temple as much as I could.  

In the evenings, after the Temple would close, I would feel lonely.  I was on the trip by myself, with a bus full of Italians.  There were a handful of Americans but they were all with people.  There were a couple times I was so frustrated.  I was so sick, and so tired, and I was hungry but didn't want to fight the crowd in the kitchen of the hostel to make something.  That's when something happened...twice...that made me remember that God knows me and knows when I am happy and when I am sad.  President Romano (our branch president...kind of like our pastor) came outside, saw me on the bench and told me in Italian that there was a plate for me at their table.  He is so in touch with the Spirit...he felt the whisperings to seek me out.  He is a man of God and for that I am so grateful.  The Italians from our branch welcomed me into their "family" (it was a hubby and wife, a few older ladies, and a couple older guys) for two meals.  Both on evenings where I was on the brink of frustrated, lonely tears.  God is good ladies and gents.  No heartache is too small for Him.  

Thursday morning I had just finished my session in the Temple...I didn't feel good.  I was crampy and just felt off.  Then I went to the bathroom and discovered I was bleeding.  My heart dropped to the floor.  I quickly left the Temple, hurried to the hostel hiding my worried, panicked tears...hoping that our room was empty.  It wasn't.  I crawled into my tiny twin bunk and willed the others to leave.  They did.  I texted Nathan.  Over the next 30 mins we played text-phone tag. He called the OB clinic and played middle man for news.  I was advised to lay still, relax, and see what happened.  If the cramping and bleeding didn't stop in one hour I was to seek medical care.  I was terrified.  I speak German...but not THAT German.  And where was the closest medical facility?  And how would I pay?  And what would happen if - God forbid - I was miscarrying.  The thought of suffering a miscarriage in a shared hostel room or on a 16 hour bus-ride home added another layer of worry to my already troubled heart.  I prayed.  SO HARD.  I begged God to spare my baby.  But I acknowledged His will and asked that if I was going to lose the baby that it would wait long enough for me to be home.  That was a hard prayer.  But I learned years ago that submitting my will to His was much easier than trying to bend His will to mine.  I prayed for comfort, and peace...and following the prayer I was able to sleep for an hour.  When I woke I went to check for blood and found no new.  And my cramps were gone.  Tears of gratitude fell on my cheeks.  I let Nathan know the developments, and then prayed some more.  Later that evening I asked one of the men on the trip for a Priesthood Blessing.  The Spirit that flowed through the blessing brought me comfort.  The words that were spoken are sacred and precious to me. 

The following day we packed up the hostel and loaded the bus.  I was adament that I needed two seats for the journey home.  I succeeded and did my best to wedge my body in positions of comfort.  It wasn't perfect but it was SO MUCH better than the bus ride up had been.  I arrived home to the loving arms of a worried husband and an excited two year old.  

I learned something in Switzerland.  Well, I guess I can't say learned because it was something I already knew.  I guess I should say I was reminded of something.  God will provide...you just have to ask.   That doesn't mean He'll always provide what you ask for...rather, He will provide what you need.  

I needed patience, and I got it.

I needed love, and I got it.

I needed healing, and I got it.

I needed peace, and I got it. 

Australia

I have posted this before...but I LOVE it so much.  I think it gives someone not directly involved with adoption an idea of what it's like in our world.  

 

(This was originally posted on April 20, 2010

& again on November 9, 2010)

Different Trips to the Same Place

By Diane Armitage printed in the April 21, 1995 "Dear Abby" column.

Deciding to have a baby is like planning a trip to Australia. You've heard it's a wonderful place, you've read many guidebooks and feel certain you're ready to go. Everyone you know has traveled there by plane. They say it can be a turbulent flight with occasional rough landings, but you can look forward to being pampered on the trip.

So you go to the airport and ask the ticket agent for a ticket to Australia. All around you, excited people are boarding planes for Australia. It seems there is no seat for you; you'll have to wait for the next flight. Impatient, but anticipating a wonderful trip, you wait--and wait--and wait.

Flights to Australia continue to come and go. People say silly things like, "Relax. You'll get on a flight soon." Other people actually get on a plane and then cancel their trip, to which you cry, "It's not fair!"

After a long time the ticket agent tells you, "I'm sorry, we're not going to be able to get you on a plane to Australia. Perhaps you should think about going by boat."

"By BOAT!" you say. "Going by boat will take a very long time and it costs a great deal of money. I really had my heart set on going by plane." So you go home and think about not going to Australia at all. You wonder if Australia will be as beautiful if you approach it by sea rather than air. But you have long dreamed of this wonderful place, and finally you decide to travel by boat.

It is a long trip, many months over many rough seas. No one pampers you. You wonder if you will ever see Australia. Meanwhile, your friends have flown back and forth to Australia two or three more times, marveling about each trip.

Then one glorious day, the boat docks in Australia. It is more exquisite than you ever imagined, and the beauty is magnified by your long days at sea. You have made many wonderful friends during your voyage, and you find yourself comparing stories with other who also traveled by sea rather then by air.

People continue to fly to Australia as often as they like, but you are about to travel only once, perhaps twice. Some say things like, "Oh, be glad you didn't fly. My flight was horrible; traveling by sea is so easy."

You will always wonder what it would have been like to fly to Australia. Still, you know God blessed you with a special appreciation of Australia, and the beauty of Australia is not in the way you get there, but in the place itself.

Prayers are answered

Miles Elijah

born 5.16.11

adopted 5.18.11

The incredible story to come...but for now I need to just snuggle my new little guy.

Cinco de Mayo

It's interesting.  Last year on Cinco de Mayo I prepared an awesome, authentic Mexican meal.  I had been taught how to prepare it by a woman who was pregnant and planning on placing her twin babies with us.  She had come to Chicago to meet us and on her visit had imparted some of her traditional cooking knowledge on me.  Nathan and I celebrated that evening over carne asada & homemade horchata and looked forward to the two sweet little babies who would be joining our family only a couple months later.   Or so we thought.  If someone would have told me that night that a year later we would still be childless...having endured four failed adoptions I think I would have smacked them, called them rude and then cried for a week. 

Good thing we don't always know our future, eh?

If I wasn't feeling so crappy (bronchitis...oh goody) I'd whip up some carne asade right now and toast to not knowing your future!  

Feet

I have a thing for feet.  Nothing creepy or inappropriate, but I like taking pictures of our feet at all the places we go.  It's weird I know...oh well, I'm weird. 

Here's our Southern "vacation" ...feet style.

Bewildered, hurt, angry feet on River Street in Savannah, GA

Sad, grieving, healing feet in the Atlantic Ocean on Hilton Head Island, SC

Sunburned, swollen, ready-for-home feet in Charleston, SC

Be sure you put your feet in the right place, 

then stand firm. 

-Abraham Lincoln

Not shatterproof

I feel like I'm barely keeping it together.  I try to act tough and strong...but I'm not.  I try and smile and repeat positive mantras to myself...as if that will keep the rising tide of sadness at bay.  

I don't know why this one has hit me so much harder than the others.  Maybe because we actually got on a plane this time.  That simple act let my heart believe that it was real; that I was finally going to be called Mother.  Maybe it's because of my ever growing fear that with this failure the scales were tipped to the hopeless side of things.  

I'm trying to keep hope alive, but it's getting almost too much for me to bear.

Over the edge...over again

In February we got an email about some adoption situations.  This is nothing new, I get them about once a week.  Most of the time they are WAY out of our budget so I day-dream for a minute what it would be like to pursue them, and then I come back to reality.  One of the situations in this particular email was twins.  For some reason I am obsessed with wanting twins so of course we threw our hat in the ring.  I spoke with the caseworker (her name is Amy) at the agency (which was not LDSFS, the agency we're currently going through) and found out that there was only one other couple interested and that there was a second set of twins coming a month later.  She (half) jokingly said "Let's just give one to you and one to the other couple!"  Sounded good to me.  A week later the woman stopped returning calls to the agency so that situation never panned out.  The other set of twins never materialized either.  (Come to find out women pregnant with twins are less likely to place their babies than a woman with a single baby.  The novelt of twins adds significant pressure to the woman) But our name was now with this new agency so we would get calls/emails every once-in-a-while about situations that needed adoptive families.  

That brings us to two weeks ago.  I got an email from Amy, it listed a bunch of situations but she said she thought one situation would be perfect for us.  A baby boy due in Ohio on April 12th.  I was sick at the time and so it took a couple days for me to get to the email.  I responded back with a "Sure, throw our hats in the ring".  We were the only family that had expressed interest and so ours was the only profile being shown to her.  Our profile was printed and overnighted to the woman.  She got it Friday (April 1st), on Monday she called her caseworker and said she had a few questions for us.  She said she was going to the doctor the following morning and would call when she got home.  We anxiously waited for that call...wondering what questions she might have.  Amy called us in late afternoon with some shocking news...the woman was being induced in the morning!  She asked if we were still interested (for sure!) if we were ready (absolutely!) and wondered how soon we could be to Ohio (just a 6 hour drive!).  There was still information that had to be sorted out so she said she'd call us back.   Nathan was the one that talked to her and he got a very positive vibe from the conversation so we hoped the news would be good.  Feeling celebratory, we ran to Target, TJ Maxx & Carter's and picked up some baby boy stuff.  We didn't hear anything that night until late.  Amy said she was sensing some hesitation from the woman's caseworker...she didn't know if it was about adoption in general or us in specific.  She said she'd keep us posted.  A phone call Wednesday morning confirmed that the baby was born and the mother had decided not to place.  Although we had some idea that this would be the outcome (after the previous night's call) we were still heartbroken.  We cried together.  I told Nathan I couldn't do one more...I was done.  He felt the same way (you may have seen this post on Facebook).  We decided to not make a decision in our hurt, but wait a few days and see how we felt.  That was Wednesday.  

Thursday started out normal.  Nathan got up, went to work and I went about my business being a house wife.  He got home shortly after three and as we were talking about his upcoming work weekend my phone rang.  It was Amy.  I will remember her words forever:  "Hi!  You guys still want a baby?"  My first thought was that the Ohio woman had changed her mind and decided to place.  She told me that a baby girl had been born the night before in Savannah, Georgia and they needed a family ASAP.  She said "she's yours if you want her."  I told her Nathan had just walked in the door...let me run it by him and I'd call her right back.  I gave Nathan the details and we called Amy back to tell her we wanted her.  She said she'd get to work on their end...we immediately started preparations on ours.  I called my mom to have her check on flights and hotels.  We called friends to set up care for Winston.  Nathan called his boss to set up his leave.  Amidst all this we started furiously packing (which was easy because I had created detailed packing lists for the Ohio trip I thought we'd be taking earlier that week), doing laundry and picking up the house (I didn't want to come home with a new baby to a filthy house...although the house wasn't too dirty because we'd cleaned it a few days earlier, once again in our preparations for Ohio).  I stopped the mail, talked to our neighbors, arranged a ride to the airport, packed all three of our suitcases (the small pink suitcase filled with tiny pink clothes was just too adorable for words) and Nathan and I quickly went back to Target, TJ Maxx & Carters to exchange all that blue stuff for pink stuff.   While we were out we announced our news on Facebook and started receiving a HUGE amount of well wishes (seriously...HUGE amount...the notifications crashed my BlackBerry three times that night).  We got home, pulled out the boxes of baby/nursery stuff, pulled the tags off all the pink stuff and threw it in the wash.  We finally got to bed at 3am. Friday morning at four the alarm went off, we got ready and headed to the airport.  Our first stop was in Nashville, we snapped a pic, excited to be one step closer to our baby girl.  Next up was Charlotte, NC.  I texted the caseworker who had already arrived in Savannah, asking her what the plan would be once we landed...she was still working out the details with the lawyers.  She said to call her when we landed in Georgia.  I called my mom who was figuring out where in Savannah we could get the carseat and stroller we wanted, she said she'd figure it out and have the info when we landed.  

As the plane took off I once again couldn't hold back the tears.  We were only a short 35 minutes from our little girl.  When we touched down in Savannah and the captain said "Welcome to Savannah" the tears came in full force.  This of course brought the attention of the flight attendant and the people nearby.  "We're here to pick up our baby daughter" we told her...and she started tearing up as well as several of the passengers near us.  They wished us good luck and we got off the plane.  Nathan turned his phone on and noticed a voicemail, which he quickly checked.  It was Amy.  She told us not to transfer the money (to pay the agency), that there was a change of plans.  I knew.  I hoped with every fiber of my being that I was wrong...but in that instant I knew.  My heart sunk.  Nathan called her back and found out the woman had decided not to place the baby.  It was over.  Another dream shattered.  I texted my mom "Don't buy the stroller", then crumpled into a chair and sobbed.  I didn't care what I looked like or how much noise I made....I couldn't control it.  Right there in the concourse of the Savannah airport my heart broke wide open.  Nathan held me tight and let me cry, while shedding tears of his own.  After a few minutes he gently got me up, said we should go get our bags and then we could decide what to do.  We posted on Facebook that it had fallen through and immediately started getting kind words from those we love.  

As we made our way to the baggage claim it felt like we were in a dream...a horrible dream.   We got to baggage claim only to find out that the airline had lost our luggage...except for the little pink suitcase, full of baby clothes that we would no longer need.  (Now THAT is what you call irony).  At the baggage claim desk I lost it again.  The sweet woman who was helping me, upon hearing what had just happened, came around the desk and hugged me tight.  She told me how sorry she was, and that she would be praying for us.  The guy at the car rental place was not to nice.  He was actually kind of a jerk...ok, not kind of...he was a JERK.  When we stepped outside to pick up the car, the unknowing attendant asked "Will it be just the two of you?"  More tears.  We drove to the hotel in near silence, the only sounds were my quiet sobbing and Garmin barking directions to us.  

We got checked in and to the room and we called our parents.  More tears...and anger.  I had a horrible headache from the tears and all I wanted to do was to take a nice, long hot shower and cry some more.  But we had no luggage...except for all the tiny pink clothes.  Which meant no brush, no comb, no clean underwear, no PJ's.  During this time I was still getting 'Congratulations' notifications on my phone...each one stung more than the previous one had.  Night came and our luggage still hadn't so we tried to sleep.  Saturday came and we found out our luggage had been located...it had gone to another city on another airline.  They said their delivery service would run it to us, we'd have it in an hour.  Two hours passed and still no luggage.  I got a call from the same kind baggage claim agent from the day before.  She told me the delivery truck's brakes had gone out so they couldn't deliver it until later...did we want to come get it? Seriously...now all these mishaps were ALMOST comical. (Some day they will be...but not yet)

During the time we waited for our luggage we had decided to stay a few days to rest and recuperate...but I couldn't stay in Savannah.  It was just too raw, too real, too painful.  We looked on a map and saw that Hilton Head, SC was close so we (once again) enlisted the help of my mom to get everything switched.  So we went to the airport, picked up the bags and changed the rental car reservation.  Luckily it was a new guy who seemed quite a bit nicer than the first...in fact when I explained why we needed to change the reservation, he teared up with me. We took the afternoon and saw downtown Savannah.  It was beautiful, but the pit in my stomach I got every time I thought about why we were there was not. 

Sunday morning we got up and made the drive up to Hilton Head, where we stayed until Tuesday afternoon.  From there we drove to Charleston, SC & caught the flight home.  We got home LATE last night and walking back in our front door empty handed was harder than I thought it was going to be.   I took that little pink suitcase full of baby girl clothes and put it in the spare room and shut the door.  I can't deal with that today. 

It is amazing to us the caliber of friends and family we are blessed to have in our lives.  The outpouring of love and support has lifted us up and carried us when we couldn't go any further.   We are very blessed. 

Over the last week Nathan and I have asked ourselves multiple times why we have been asked to travel this road.  Adoption is tough, but it seems that we have experienced an exceptionally rocky road.  Four failed adoptions in nine months...with two of those coming in one week.  We don't know why this is our path, but we know we're supposed to be on it.  Someday it will all work out.  I wish I knew when....oh how I wish I knew.  We hope that this will be the end of our heartache, but if it isn't we accept that. 

I am a lucky woman.  I married a wonderfully supportive husband.  He is my rock.  I have a kind, generous mother & father who would do anything to help us in our hours of need.  I have grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins & siblings who give us love & support.  I have beautiful friendships that buoy me up when the waves crash around me and I can't stay afloat.  And I have a loving Father in Heaven that wraps His arms around us when we're all alone and feeling broken.   And while my heart and empty arms ache for a child, I am grateful for the things I do have that help us get through horrible things. 

Perfect Little Prophetic Epistle

Over the weekend Nathan and I made it a priority to listen to General Conference.  For those not familiar, the LDS Church holds a General Conference twice a year.  In both April & October a set of five 2-hour sessions are held where we are counseled by church leaders.  The Conference is held in Salt Lake City, Utah and broadcast all over the world, in many languages.  In the closing session on Sunday afternoon Elder Jeffrey R. Holland spoke about the Conference itself.  He said that if you listen with the Spirit, you will receive your own "Perfect Little Prophetic Epistle."  In other words, something the Lord meant for you to hear, that He knew you needed.  I'll have to admit that in other conferences I haven't always paid close attention and so many times I haven't come away with my own PLPE.  But this time my heart was very open, in large part to what's been going on in our lives as of late.  So Sunday morning when Elder Paul V. Johnson spoke (you can watch it HERE) I was ready to hear what {I needed} to hear.  He spoke about trials, which is not a new topic; but there was just something about his words that pricked my heart strings.  He spoke about the Crimson Trail in Logan Canyon, a difficult trail that Nathan and I have climbed before; and maybe that is part of why I connected so much with him as he spoke.  He mentions that the trail is difficult, but the hardest part is the last little piece.  I can vouch for that...it is steep and you can't see anything that suggests the effort is going to be worth it.  Elder Johnson said "The views of the canyon are hidden by the cliffs themselves".  There was a part of me on that hike that wanted to turn back...convinced we'd seen enough and couldn't possibly go any further.   It is difficult to see the big picture when you're stuck in the middle of something...especially if that something is difficult.  Elder Johnson agrees:

"In the midst of problems it's nearly impossible to see that the coming blessings far outweigh the pain, humiliation or heartbreak we may be currently experiencing."

But if you press on, just past that tough stretch the panoramic views of the canyon are spectacular...well worth the effort.  Elder Johnson then said:

"A pattern in the scriptures and in life shows that many times the darkest, most dangerous tests immediately precede remarkable events & tremendous growth."

I feel like in our lives, and more specifically in our adoption journey, that we are facing a horrible, painful, exhausting stretch.  Many times over the last few months, and especially the last week I have wanted to give up.  I felt convinced that we'd seen enough and couldn't possibly go any further.  So as I sat, listening to the words spill out of Elder Johnson's mouth I felt comfort.  I hold on to the hope that our remarkable events are not far away.  Yesterday was hard again; and I found myself wanting to give in to the crushing hopelessness I felt.  I prayed for strength as I fell asleep last night on a tear stained pillow, and I woke today to sunshine streaming through my window and feelings of comfort in my soul.

I want to leave you with my Perfect Little Prophetic Epistle...which you can hear for yourself if you want.  It's at about the five minute mark in this video.  The trick for me is remembering this while in the depths of despair...and I'm working on that.

"Time after time we see marvelous blessings on the heel of great trials."

Up, down, up...

...and down again.  

Adoption is not easy on the heart.

New mantra

I've seen this quote floating around the interwebs the last few weeks and I loved it...but it just wasn't purple enough.  So I made me a "holly" version.  

I just may print it big and put it on my bathroom mirror so I can see it everyday. 

These are the times that try men's souls

2010 was a rough year.  As Nathan and I stood arm in arm watching the ball drop as the final few seconds of 2010 ticked away, I couldn't help but bid good riddance to a year that had caused us so much heartache.  We toasted to a better, awesome, fantastic 2011.  We went to bed and woke to a wonderful surprise...one we kept private (except from our friends Joseph and Alison who happened to be at our place that morning...from whom we could not hide our excitement).  2011 was already off to a good start.  We had {finally} received our first contact through the itsaboutlove.org website.  It was from a young woman and her boyfriend, who found our profile, loved us and wondered if we were still interested in adopting.   (Um, of course we are!!)   We wrote up a response and had it sent off by lunch that day.  Later that evening we got a copy of the response...or at least that's what we thought.  I should explain something quick...when someone contacts us through the itsaboutlove.org website it goes through a screener in Salt Lake before we see it...and our responses are sent though the same screener before they are sent on to the recipient.  It's kind of a pain, but it protects the privacy of both parties...until you both decide you want to move to the next step in your relationship.

After a couple days I started questioning if our response had been sent to back to that couple...or just to us.  So I inquired with the screener in Salt Lake.  A couple days later she tells me that she made a mistake and accidentally sent it to us instead of to them.  Seriously.  So she forwarded it on...four days after the initial contact.  We wait and wait and never get a response.

Fast forward to last week.  I couldn't get them out of my mind.  I felt like we needed to respond again...so on Tuesday we sent off an email.  The screener in Salt Lake forwarded it on...only to have it returned as undeliverable.  She forwarded me the copy of the undeliverable message.  At first I was bummed...but as I scrolled down through the message my mood lifted when I noticed the young woman's email address.  Now I'll admit I struggled with knowing what to do...but I consulted with a couple trusted friends and came to the decision to send an email directly to her from our adoption account.  I fired it off and within an hour I got the same undeliverable message.  So I did the next logical thing.  I googled the email address....nothing.  So I searched Facebook...and got a hit.  It matched to a profile of a girl who had the same first name as the young woman who had sent the initial contact message.  I wrote a long message, explaining the situation and trying my best to make me seem as little like a stalker as I possibly could...and clicked send.

Yesterday we got her response.  Turns out that she never got our initial response.  Only a couple days after she sent her message to us, her email got hacked and she had to shut it down.  Then she told me that they hadn't heard from us and since "time was ticking, we decided on another family". 

Now I know that everything happens for a reason, and obviously that child wasn't meant to be in our family...but it doesn't take away the hurt...or the frustration.  My confidence in our agency has been shattered...our hopes once again dashed.  Needless to say, we haven't stuck to our new diet this week...chocolate and gummy bears soothe the soul.

Givens

The necklace I wear everyday

A couple months ago I was in the lobby after church and one of the missionaries came up to say hi.  He noticed the necklace I was wearing and asked me "What is your hope?"  I replied that my biggest hope was to be a mother.  "That's not a hope" he said, "that's a given."  I didn't want to get into it with anyone in the lobby at church so I let it slide.  I've thought about it a few times since then, but this week it has been a constant thought. 

Nothing in life is a given.  It isn't a given that you'll graduate college just because you start or that you'll get married just because you date or that you'll be able to have kids just because you're a woman.  Just as if you do graduate it isn't a given that you'll find a job, or if you get married that you'll stay married, or if you have kids that they'll be healthy. 

The last week has been really rough emotionally.  The holidays are always hard (infertility-wise) but I'm not sure why this year has hit me so hard.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I thought there would be four stockings hanging from our mantle this year...instead of two.  Maybe it's because I know I won't be seeing any family.  Maybe it's because of my looming big birthday and my life is not anywhere near where I thought it would be when I hit 30.  Maybe it's because I know it won't seem like much of a holiday because of our move.  All I know is that I have been reduced to tears more times this week than I can count on both hands.  I know that there is a plan out there for us and that someday I'll understand why it was necessary for us to go through all of this. 

I {hope} that our future involves children, but as of late I've had to deal with a growing fear that it may not.  I'm not sure I would know what to do with myself.  The last six and a half years of our lives have been focused on having a family...it is what I know, what I long for, what I live for.  But, it isn't a given and I pray that if it isn't in the cards for us that my heart will be strong enough to accept that.

Sometimes you just have to laugh

On our way to church this morning (yes, we drove Helga...we really needed to be there and didn't have another vehicle and technically she *is* drivable...although she makes a grindy noise when we turn left and I'm pretty sure I smelled something burning towards the end of the drive) as I was craning my neck to see over Helga's massive hump of a hood Nathan and I got to talking. (Oh ya...Nathan couldn't drive because the cop forgot to give him back his license post-accident...we're told it's in the mail)  We have had quite the year.  I mean ...SERIOUSLY... quite the year.   Let's give you the rundown, shall we??  If we start this weekend and go back {only} 365 days...this is what you've got:

Our kitten Frank died

I got in an accident (And all the drama that followed) 

I lost my job

Potential Adoption Situation Fall Through

Homestudy got rejected (which ended up costing us upwards of $700!)

Truck got broken into (Never told you that...didn't want to freak mom out)

Failed Adoption

Someone in Hong Kong stole my CC #

Nathan got in an accident

As we sat in our crumpled car and verbally started adding this up, Nathan just started laughing.  Like, hard core, tears in eyes, laughing.  His laughs got me started and for a good 15 minutes of the drive we laughed about all that'd gone wrong for us.  Sometimes you just have to laugh...because the alternative is messy (as in non-waterproof mascara messy).

(Now before any of you get all preachy on me...we have also had some pretty good things happen to us over the last year.   The point of my post was not to say that we only have bad things in our lives, but rather to point out the hilarity of our 'list'.  So leave your angry comments at the door, thank you.)

Poor Helga

I worked this morning...got home just in time to see my hubby before he had to take off to go to work.  He was going to take the train up and then drive his truck home.  (It is currently parked at the base...that's where it stays most of the time)  But then he decided he'd take the car up and back and just leave the truck at the base.  There was this little voice inside me that said "No, have him take the train"...but I ignored it.  (Something I will not do in the future...you can be sure)

About 15 minutes after Nathan left I was sitting at my laptop, working on some FSA stuff when I got a call from Nathan.  "I've been in a car accident."  He was stopped at a light on the highway and the big moving truck in front of him backed up...right into the front of Helga.

Nathan is fine (for which I am VERY grateful)...the car can drive, but can't go too far and will definitely have to be fixed. 

Seriously...the universe seems out to get us. 

...and love it

My sister-in-law Briana sent me this video tonight...and then she shared it on her blog.  It is {{exactly}} what I needed to hear.  It brought tears to my eyes, and I knew I wanted to share it too. 

August

The last couple days the weather here in the Chi has been PERFECT.  We slept with the windows open last night and a couple times during the night I was tempted to get up and throw a second quilt on the bed.  I love chilly nights.  Today the windows have stayed open and the breeze blowing the city sounds through the house has been so calming.  (Have I mentioned that I love Chicago??)

I'm grateful for the change...in weather and in months.  August (and the last couple days of July) can suck it.  It was wicked, miserable, suffocatingly hot.  Work was less than pleasant.  Losing two babies was no picnic.  Feeling like our hearts were lied to, ripped out, torn into bits and peed on and then burned sucked pretty bad. Winston was cranky, Besta was a menace.

August marked the six year point of us trying to add children to our family.  Six. Freaking. Years.  It is so amazingly frustrating to want something for six years.  Do everything in your power to get it.  Dream, think, pray, stress, cry, rejoice, ache over it...and STILL, after six LONG years...still NOT have it.  I am seriously considering changing my middle name to patience. 

I'm glad that milestone is passed...and I don't have to deal with it again for another year.

Bring on September!  May it be fabulous!

Cruel

Laying in bed in the darkness the phone ringing wakes me from my slumber.  I stumble in the darkness, wondering who could possibly be calling at this hour.  The words on the other side come quickly..."babies born...I've made a mistake...all consents have been signed...hurry."  I quickly wake Nathan and we pack in a fury.  We set out in the darkness, full of excitement.  All the pain of the previous week melts away.  With each state border we cross our anticipation grows.  We make the 23 hour drive to my parent's place in Utah with no overnight stops.  We sleep for a few hours, drop off the dog, gas up the car and we're off again.  Eleven hours later we're at the hospital in California.  We see our babies for the first time through the glass.  The nurses realize who we are and let us back to hold them.  Tears are shed, prayers are said.  Later in the day they are released and we make our way back to our hotel.  Their cries do nothing to deflate our swollen hearts.  Sometime in the darkness of night, when both the babies are fed, changed and asleep we drift to sleep as well.  This morning when I see the first morning light creep in the room I am confused.  "Where am I?"  as the room comes into focus I realize I am not in a hotel in California.  I am in my bed.  In my apartment.  In Chicago.  The tears sting as I realize we are alone in our apartment.  There are no babies.  There was no phone call, no 23 hour drive, no hospital.  I feel my heart sink lower in my chest and I feel powerless against the oppressive darkness I know is coming.

Salt on the wounds

In the past I haven't always been the best at dealing with the trials of infertility.  When I got hurt I pulled away from family, friends, church and God.  Deep inside I knew it was wrong, but it is the natural reaction to pain - to pull away.  So when the light crept into my bedroom this morning signaling time to get up and get ready for church I had an internal discussion.  Go to church or not??  I wanted so much to stay home, burrow deeper within the covers and sleep off this pain.  But I knew I needed to go...if I didn't it would make next week that much harder.  I needed to face the questions that were sure to come.

We entered the building and quickly found a seat.  The opening hymn was good...a nice up-beat tune to distract me.  Then the person conducting the meeting announced that there would be three baby blessings today.  I felt my skin prickle.  I felt Nathan's arm around my shoulder tighten.  Baby blessings have always been hard and today it was just something I so. did. not. need to endure.  The first baby was blessed and my tears were already falling.  Then the second baby was announced to be the twin of the first baby.  Seriously.  Nathan's grip tightened even more and I did everything I could to stifle my sobs.

I didn't make it through the entire day of church...but I'm proud of us for making the effort.  I'm not looking forward to work tomorrow and all the questions and unknown that will come (because I was hired just as a temp until the babies were born)...but at least I know there won't be any baby blessings.