Dear Husband,
I loved you before I knew I loved you. That day in that English class that we passed notes while Betty taught. That day at Zea's we sat and you dropped your guarded wall and shared your heart with me. That night at Bellingrath Gardens where I laughed so hard.
Your wit and sarcasm and knowledge has kept me on my toes. Your heart and gentle spirit always supplies a place of rest when the world is anything but. Your unwavering love of the Lord and how you guide our family only makes my love for you stronger.
You are a gift I do not deserve and take for granted regularly.
There are days that are bad. Real bad. Those days are nothing in comparison to the seconds and minutes I get to spend in your arms, hearing you say "I love you", and knowing you do. With a past of fake love and a heart broken time and time again, I can rest in the knowledge that you hold this bruised and broken heart with a tender touch and forgive freely.
Forever yours,
Your undeserving mess of a wife
Thursday, September 15, 2016
Thursday, July 14, 2016
Post Placement Depression
It has been very difficult for me to put the thoughts and feelings I have had the last 3 months into words. But, here I will try...
The days leading up to April 11 were somewhat normal. Exercise. Coffee. Work. Home. Repeat.
When the call came that we had been chosen nothing was normal any longer and I could not be certain of anything either. I was so happy and so scared all at the same time. On April 14th at 1pm the most perfect gift was put in my arms and everything changed. My joy was magnified as was my fear and anxiety.
We had been chosen by a birth mother to parent the child she had given birth to. No longer would we receive birth mother summaries. No longer would we have to wait for the child the Lord had chosen for us before time began. No longer would we have to shrug and answer the "When" questions with "I don't know".
You see, I am methodical. I enjoy the steps to get to the final project. Yard work is one of my favorite things even though our yard does not look like it has been touched in weeks (it hasn't). The process is what brings me joy. There will always be growing grass that needs to be cut and weeds that need to be weed-eated. It is the knowledge that I am needed and the satisfaction of supplying the answer to that current need that brings me joy and purpose. At the end of the day my grass may look beautifully cut and edges done but the bushes are 5 feet high falling over from the previous day's rain storm but I am full of pride at the completion of step one. Now, bring on step two...tomorrow or the next day.
Our adoption journey to our HWD has been just that, steps to be mulled over and prayed over and cried over. Each set of paperwork or social worker visit or birth mother summary was just another step to get to the finale. Those tiny steps were my fuel to continue and celebrate.
Now, it is over. Yesterday as we drove to the courthouse for our finalization my heart hurt. There would not be another step. There would not be another milestone to celebrate. The process would be completed. I would have ripped up all the grass and laid sod to never cut again.
I began to mourn when we had our first post placement visit with our amazing social worker. It was then that I realized just how devastated I was. This process had consumed me and my family. How was I to just be done? What do I do now?
Life with HWD was wonderful. We snuggled. We laughed. We pooped our pants. We napped together. A bond formed quickly and today when he hears my voice he turns to look for me. Yet, I found myself feeling empty. I found myself upset and sad and lonely. I felt even more broken than when Derek and I had those difficult conversations about infertility.
What was wrong with me? I was surrounded by everything I had ever dreamed and prayed for and yet I couldn't get out of bed. I couldn't form answers to simple questions. I cried and slept and ate and loved on HWD. Derek and I fought over the stupid and mundane things all because my feelings were hurt and I saw everything from the fogged lenses of depressed eyes. The worst of all my fears was that if anyone knew my precious baby boy would be taken away from me because I am not his biological mother. I was not yet legally his forever mommy. No one could know. No one would know. I could put on a happy face at church and weekly family dinners. As long as I contained my tears to the car and home I would be fine.
A sweet friend and fellow adoptive mom said to me days after we were chosen and life as a mother was so fresh to begin mourning the process. That sounds like such a strange thing to do. Why would I not just be so overjoyed and elated with my new child? Wouldn't my world be consumed with happiness and thankfulness because it is finally over and this baby is in my arms?
I have been through many challenges in my 30 years. I have suffered through self hurt, depression, anxiety, nightmares, and indescribable betrayal and loss. For many years I worked diligently with the best counselor in the world to acknowledge those things and be able to cope with them when they showed their evil heads. I can honestly say that post placement depression is real and one of the hardest to admit and work through.
I thought that just because I was adopting I would be immune to the postpartum depression so many women suffer through. I was wrong.
Even as I type this, "It Is Well" by Bethel Music & Kristene Dimarco plays in the background reminding me that the same God who wrote the path of adoption into my life long before I was created is also the same God who holds my hand as I cry and heals my broken soul.
Through it all my eyes are on you. Through it all, through it all, it is well.
Fellow sufferers, you are not alone. Do not be ashamed, as I was. Cry out to the Creator of all things and lean on him for as Matthew tells us, His yoke is easy and his burden is light.
The days leading up to April 11 were somewhat normal. Exercise. Coffee. Work. Home. Repeat.
When the call came that we had been chosen nothing was normal any longer and I could not be certain of anything either. I was so happy and so scared all at the same time. On April 14th at 1pm the most perfect gift was put in my arms and everything changed. My joy was magnified as was my fear and anxiety.
We had been chosen by a birth mother to parent the child she had given birth to. No longer would we receive birth mother summaries. No longer would we have to wait for the child the Lord had chosen for us before time began. No longer would we have to shrug and answer the "When" questions with "I don't know".
You see, I am methodical. I enjoy the steps to get to the final project. Yard work is one of my favorite things even though our yard does not look like it has been touched in weeks (it hasn't). The process is what brings me joy. There will always be growing grass that needs to be cut and weeds that need to be weed-eated. It is the knowledge that I am needed and the satisfaction of supplying the answer to that current need that brings me joy and purpose. At the end of the day my grass may look beautifully cut and edges done but the bushes are 5 feet high falling over from the previous day's rain storm but I am full of pride at the completion of step one. Now, bring on step two...tomorrow or the next day.
Our adoption journey to our HWD has been just that, steps to be mulled over and prayed over and cried over. Each set of paperwork or social worker visit or birth mother summary was just another step to get to the finale. Those tiny steps were my fuel to continue and celebrate.
Now, it is over. Yesterday as we drove to the courthouse for our finalization my heart hurt. There would not be another step. There would not be another milestone to celebrate. The process would be completed. I would have ripped up all the grass and laid sod to never cut again.
I began to mourn when we had our first post placement visit with our amazing social worker. It was then that I realized just how devastated I was. This process had consumed me and my family. How was I to just be done? What do I do now?
Life with HWD was wonderful. We snuggled. We laughed. We pooped our pants. We napped together. A bond formed quickly and today when he hears my voice he turns to look for me. Yet, I found myself feeling empty. I found myself upset and sad and lonely. I felt even more broken than when Derek and I had those difficult conversations about infertility.
What was wrong with me? I was surrounded by everything I had ever dreamed and prayed for and yet I couldn't get out of bed. I couldn't form answers to simple questions. I cried and slept and ate and loved on HWD. Derek and I fought over the stupid and mundane things all because my feelings were hurt and I saw everything from the fogged lenses of depressed eyes. The worst of all my fears was that if anyone knew my precious baby boy would be taken away from me because I am not his biological mother. I was not yet legally his forever mommy. No one could know. No one would know. I could put on a happy face at church and weekly family dinners. As long as I contained my tears to the car and home I would be fine.
A sweet friend and fellow adoptive mom said to me days after we were chosen and life as a mother was so fresh to begin mourning the process. That sounds like such a strange thing to do. Why would I not just be so overjoyed and elated with my new child? Wouldn't my world be consumed with happiness and thankfulness because it is finally over and this baby is in my arms?
I have been through many challenges in my 30 years. I have suffered through self hurt, depression, anxiety, nightmares, and indescribable betrayal and loss. For many years I worked diligently with the best counselor in the world to acknowledge those things and be able to cope with them when they showed their evil heads. I can honestly say that post placement depression is real and one of the hardest to admit and work through.
I thought that just because I was adopting I would be immune to the postpartum depression so many women suffer through. I was wrong.
Even as I type this, "It Is Well" by Bethel Music & Kristene Dimarco plays in the background reminding me that the same God who wrote the path of adoption into my life long before I was created is also the same God who holds my hand as I cry and heals my broken soul.
Through it all my eyes are on you. Through it all, through it all, it is well.
Fellow sufferers, you are not alone. Do not be ashamed, as I was. Cry out to the Creator of all things and lean on him for as Matthew tells us, His yoke is easy and his burden is light.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
The End of the Book
A wise woman once told me that "there is a perfect plan already set out. We just don't know what it is. Haven't read the end of the book"
Ironically, that same woman's favorite Bible verse is:
But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up on wings as eagles;
they shall run, and not be weary;
and they shall walk, and not faint.
Isaiah 40:31
I admit that there have been times that I read the end of the book before I read the middle. I also readily admit that I have read the Cliffs Notes and watched the movie instead of reading the whole book. --- Those times that I didn't do so hot in my English classes in high school and college are now making a lot more sense ;-)
Infertility and adoption is not a book one can skim through. It can be compared to skimming through one of the great novels like Moby Dick, Great Expectations, A Tale of Two Cities, or The Brothers Karamozov. The details and the suffering and the lesson are not found easily.
One of my favorite bible verses is Romans 5:3-5 which reads,
Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope and hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.
We have been very transparent about the introduction and beginning chapters of our book but have withheld details about those middle chapters that were full of suffering to reveal a sneak peek of the final pages ending with our happily ever after. If you would, please bear with me to tell the details of those middle chapters, for in the end there is hope and joy.
We've talked about waiting, but I don't think we have gone into the details of what waiting looks like for a domestic adoptive parent.
Beginning on October 29 Derek and I began getting birth mother summaries. These summaries include information that is sensitive and specific to each birth mother. Birth mothers bravely express medical and social details that could be embarrassing or shameful.
Once we receive the summaries we have a time limit to respond whether we want that birth mother to see our profile or not. For example, there could be a birth mother summary in our inbox at 4:00pm and we have to read and pray over the summary and respond by noon the next day.
Every time we said "Yes, show this birth mother our profile" we then had to wait an unknown amount of time to hear an update from our social worker. While we waited, the birth mother was given a stack of profiles in the form of picture books for each family who also said "Yes, show this birth mother our profile". Our wait seemed to be tiresome and unnerving but the choosing process for each birth mother is even more tiresome and unnerving than we could imagine. She had to look through book after book for the family she would place the child growing in her belly with.
I needed an update and I needed an update quickly. Waiting and patience were difficult day in and day out. Derek and I prayed daily for the birth mother looking at our profile and specifically for the one who would one day choose us. As I prayed for her peace and her salvation, I also asked for patience for myself and a softened heart for the pain and suffering and grieving our birth mothers were living through.
Each "No" was both heartbreaking in the knowledge that we were not chosen yet joyful in the knowledge that that birth mother had done the most difficult decision and chosen an adoptive family for her child.
Some weeks we read one summary while some we read four. November came and went, as did December, January, February, and March. My phone could constantly be found in my possession waiting to be updated.
April rolled around and we had seen upwards of 20 summaries. That is 20 mothers Derek and I prayed over, thought about, and hoped to one day meet if not here in Heaven to say Thank You to.
Our fourth anniversary was April 6. The week before we bought fruit plants and an apple tree. When we exchange anniversary gifts we follow the traditional gifts. Year four is fruit. On our way to dinner we received another birth mother summary. We decided to say Yes and to wait again. April 6 was a Wednesday. Monday my phone rang. It was the phone call we had been waiting to receive. It was the phone call that would change our lives forever. It was the phone call that told us we had a son. Our waiting was over, or so we thought. Our hearts were filled with such joy.
We learned that those fruit plants and apple tree were planted on the day our son was born. One of my devotionals during those couple of days of waiting on our son was Deuteronomy 28.
"If you fully obey the Lord your God and carefully follow all his commands I give you today, the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations on earth. All these blessings will come upon you and accompany you if you obey the Lord your God:
You will be blessed in the city and blessed in the country.
The fruit of your womb will be blessed, and the crops of your land and the young of your livestock - the calves of your herds and the lambs of your flocks.
Your basket and your kneading trough will be blessed.
You will be blessed when you come in and blessed when you go out."
The Lord has blessed our crop. We still pray daily for our son's birth mother. We still thank the Lord for her bravery and obedience. We wait for the day we stand before a judge and hear that our son is officially a Dupuis. Until that day we rejoice for his life. We rejoice for his birth mother. We rejoice for each "No" we received was only paving the path for this perfect gift we've been given.
Ironically, that same woman's favorite Bible verse is:
But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up on wings as eagles;
they shall run, and not be weary;
and they shall walk, and not faint.
Isaiah 40:31
I admit that there have been times that I read the end of the book before I read the middle. I also readily admit that I have read the Cliffs Notes and watched the movie instead of reading the whole book. --- Those times that I didn't do so hot in my English classes in high school and college are now making a lot more sense ;-)
Infertility and adoption is not a book one can skim through. It can be compared to skimming through one of the great novels like Moby Dick, Great Expectations, A Tale of Two Cities, or The Brothers Karamozov. The details and the suffering and the lesson are not found easily.
One of my favorite bible verses is Romans 5:3-5 which reads,
Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope and hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.
We have been very transparent about the introduction and beginning chapters of our book but have withheld details about those middle chapters that were full of suffering to reveal a sneak peek of the final pages ending with our happily ever after. If you would, please bear with me to tell the details of those middle chapters, for in the end there is hope and joy.
We've talked about waiting, but I don't think we have gone into the details of what waiting looks like for a domestic adoptive parent.
Beginning on October 29 Derek and I began getting birth mother summaries. These summaries include information that is sensitive and specific to each birth mother. Birth mothers bravely express medical and social details that could be embarrassing or shameful.
Once we receive the summaries we have a time limit to respond whether we want that birth mother to see our profile or not. For example, there could be a birth mother summary in our inbox at 4:00pm and we have to read and pray over the summary and respond by noon the next day.
Every time we said "Yes, show this birth mother our profile" we then had to wait an unknown amount of time to hear an update from our social worker. While we waited, the birth mother was given a stack of profiles in the form of picture books for each family who also said "Yes, show this birth mother our profile". Our wait seemed to be tiresome and unnerving but the choosing process for each birth mother is even more tiresome and unnerving than we could imagine. She had to look through book after book for the family she would place the child growing in her belly with.
I needed an update and I needed an update quickly. Waiting and patience were difficult day in and day out. Derek and I prayed daily for the birth mother looking at our profile and specifically for the one who would one day choose us. As I prayed for her peace and her salvation, I also asked for patience for myself and a softened heart for the pain and suffering and grieving our birth mothers were living through.
Each "No" was both heartbreaking in the knowledge that we were not chosen yet joyful in the knowledge that that birth mother had done the most difficult decision and chosen an adoptive family for her child.
Some weeks we read one summary while some we read four. November came and went, as did December, January, February, and March. My phone could constantly be found in my possession waiting to be updated.
April rolled around and we had seen upwards of 20 summaries. That is 20 mothers Derek and I prayed over, thought about, and hoped to one day meet if not here in Heaven to say Thank You to.
Our fourth anniversary was April 6. The week before we bought fruit plants and an apple tree. When we exchange anniversary gifts we follow the traditional gifts. Year four is fruit. On our way to dinner we received another birth mother summary. We decided to say Yes and to wait again. April 6 was a Wednesday. Monday my phone rang. It was the phone call we had been waiting to receive. It was the phone call that would change our lives forever. It was the phone call that told us we had a son. Our waiting was over, or so we thought. Our hearts were filled with such joy.
We learned that those fruit plants and apple tree were planted on the day our son was born. One of my devotionals during those couple of days of waiting on our son was Deuteronomy 28.
"If you fully obey the Lord your God and carefully follow all his commands I give you today, the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations on earth. All these blessings will come upon you and accompany you if you obey the Lord your God:
You will be blessed in the city and blessed in the country.
The fruit of your womb will be blessed, and the crops of your land and the young of your livestock - the calves of your herds and the lambs of your flocks.
Your basket and your kneading trough will be blessed.
You will be blessed when you come in and blessed when you go out."
The Lord has blessed our crop. We still pray daily for our son's birth mother. We still thank the Lord for her bravery and obedience. We wait for the day we stand before a judge and hear that our son is officially a Dupuis. Until that day we rejoice for his life. We rejoice for his birth mother. We rejoice for each "No" we received was only paving the path for this perfect gift we've been given.
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