Agape

Agape: A Greek word for a particular type of love selfless love of one person for another.

Even before I knew that adoption was a path we'd go down, the thought of adoption pulled at my heart strings. I would run across so many positive and uplifting stories about adoption. The thing that has always impressed me was the immense love involved. Agape. Hearing these stories, it gives my heart hope as we're starting this process. With all of the highs and lows of searching for the missing piece of our family, I know that it's going to be okay. Our story will be about love too.

 

Beautiful Inside

There's a birth mom community that I follow on Facebook called BIB. A birth mom posted this video this morning, and it made me cry. I've never been in a birth mom's shoes...but I imagine it must be hard facing the sometimes harsh judgements of others. This is what this birth mom said about the judgement of others...

"As the tears flow down my cheeks I think about my own life and how often my choices have been judged and debated. I am amazed that what I do in MY LIFE so greatly effects others, others that don't know me...why they care so much I will never understand! This video is so powerful. You NEVER know the battles that a person is facing, why they make the choices they do. Live YOUR life. You were made to be beautiful...don't let the words and judgement of others dull your sparkle! You have great beauty inside!"

Dear birth mom...you are so loved. You are beautiful.

If I Could Talk to You...

I've been thinking about you again this morning dear birthmom! I hope all is well, that you are happy, healthy, and that you feel loved! If I could talk to you this morning, this is what I'd say...

You're My Favorite

I probably tell Steve "Gosh, you're my favorite!" at least a couple times a day. And I mean it...that boy, he is my favorite!

One of my favorite things about him is how happy he makes me. When I'm around him...I can't help but smile. He is constantly making me laugh. Our house is filled with laughter. Sometimes he makes me laugh so hard that I snort (it's attractive, I know). He sings me funny songs. He dances funny dances. He's downright goofy. Our kids are going to have one fun dad!

I found this quote the other day, and it's the truth!  I have no doubt that when we're old and squishy, he'll still be making me laugh.

(Steve made me this video the other day...made me laugh pretty good! It's pretty much how we dance around the house...)

Tradition, Tradition

 I’ve been pondering a lot lately about fatherhood, thinking along with that, of the examples of fathers in my life.

I had three grandfathers; two passed away before I was born; the third, my maternal grandmother’s second husband, passed away when I was three. The only memory I have of him comes from a picture of one of my earliest birthday parties. He was standing behind me and smiling, so I’ve chosen to remember his kindness.

I’ve had many other examples recently, especially from very close friends, of men being really good fathers. And of course, there are the memories of my own father.

The earliest memory I have of my father is sneaking away from family gatherings together. It was hard to sneak because of the creaking sound that came with the second-to-top step of our two-story-home staircase but usually we got away unscathed. The staircase led to our parents’ bedroom where a recliner awaited him and a little cubby in front of their bed awaited me. He would dig a wooden bowl into the secret second batch of popcorn he had made just for us and would hand me my first portion. I would probably crawl back for seconds, thirds, and so on, but this would be enough to hold me over for at least the introduction. You see, this early memory of my father was our weekly tradition of watching Mystery! on Sunday nights. We had to get in our spots at least five minutes early or we risked missing one of the best parts, the Edward Gorey animated introduction. The quirky, musical cartoon would depict the typical opening credits while poking fun at the whims of murder mysteries: the cocktail parties, the mysterious family members, the body slipping into the pond, the note-taking detective, the foolish police, and the crying damsel in distress. And then there were the hosts. The camera would rotate and zoom in on the quaint host who would usually approach your television screen from within the walls of an old home or dining room. They would welcome you to the show and produce an introduction to the evenings’ story, while portraying the struggles of the protagonist and leaving you begging for the plot to begin.  The main man from my youngest years was the raspy and eyeballing Vincent Price, who was then replaced by the elegant yet mysterious Diana Rigg. These personas along with those in the stories, like Jeremy Brett in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, David Suchet in Poirot, or John Thaw in Inspector Morse, made up the heroes and the fantasies of my childhood. If I read books at school or watched other shows on tv during the week, I was often disappointed with how the characters never compared. When Thaw and Brett passed away, seemingly ending their respective series, pieces of me died with them. When I had grown up and Kevin Whately decided to continue the Morse series as Lewis, while Suchet started making more episodes of Poirot, part of me healed. I’ve since collected pretty much every DVD and episode of all of these shows, I have developed quite the obsession of all things Sherlock Holmes, and I have even built quite the collection of old Vincent Price movies. A huge part of who I am as a person and my quirky interests as a teacher and writer come from the memories and traditions I built with my Dad.

Jamie has tried. She really has. But I don’t think she loves these shows as much as I do. We have our own tradition on Sunday nights. We’ve continued with the popcorn and what is now Masterpiece Mystery or really anything PBS for that matter, and I know she can see how happy it makes me. Not just because of the qualities of the shows, but because of the traditions.

But something inside of me is absolutely dying. Dying to make traditions with my own son or daughter. Dying for them to take a piece of me that they can hold onto forever.

I need to build new traditions with my own kids. I want to hold them in my arms and calm their fears; feed them when they are hungry; rock them back to sleep. I want to build forts in our basement and watch movies or read stories and create our own adventures together.

I don’t know what parts of me they will latch onto. I probably wont know it when it happens. I don’t know what they’ll treasure the most about their time with me but I want to give them as many options as possible.

My Dad and I don’t have a ton in common these days, but I love the fact that if I want to call him up after a long day, that we can always talk about current and past episodes of Mystery and how those night of sneaking away really made me smile.

Steve

Love

What is love? 

No, no...not that cheesy, fantastic 90's song by Haddaway (though I do have an image of Steve singing and dancing to that song stuck in my head because that's something he would do to make me laugh...)

To me, love is putting others before yourself, lifting them up, cheering them on, giving them hope, and making them feel valued. You don't have to have a valentine to feel loved today (or any day). Love is everywhere in our lives if we just look for it! "There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time" (Jane Austin, Mansfield Park).  Just this past week I've felt love from complete strangers, love from friends, love from family, and love from Heavenly Father.  I'm so grateful for love! 

(I'm grateful for Steve, and how he loves me. Sometimes I wonder...how did I get so lucky to have him?!  Oh how I love him!)

The Gift

There is always HOPE.
 

Roller Coaster Ride

Everyone has told us that this journey is going to be a roller coaster ride.  You know what I think about roller coasters? They're awesome! They're an adventure! Of course there are ups and downs...but that's what makes the ride, right? A roller coaster ride that was just smooth, steady and flat wouldn't be any good!

I choose to see this as an awesome adventure. I choose to be happy on this ride. With every setback there's a chance to comeback and rise.

I was reading this morning about a young girl in southern Utah who's on a roller coaster ride,  she's fighting cancer. The cancer at this point has taken over her body at a rapid pace, and they have nothing left to try and fight it. This is what her mom said about her...

"Make no mistake, Jayci has won her battle with cancer. She has never let it change her. She has been positive and strong. She has done all that has been asked of her and done it with graceful determination. Even when doctors and specialists thought there was no way she would/could tolerate another brutal treatment, she did it. And she did it with a smile on her face. She never let cancer into her spirit. Jayci has cancer, cancer does not now and never will have Jayci."

This girl inspires me. I want to be like Jayci. I want to live life like her. I want to see the "down" parts of the roller coaster ride the way she sees them.

I've been thinking about who's on this ride with us right now.  You see...this part of the ride, it really isn't about us. It won't be for a while...and that's okay. Right now it's about you, birthmom. And you, birthdad. It's about your families. And it's about this little baby.  You are in our thoughts and prayers everyday. We just want to cheer you on, lift you up, and help you through the roller coaster ride too.

You are Beautiful

Birthmother, I just wanted to remind you that you are beautiful.

You are beautiful because you are brave. You are beautiful because you put others first. You are beautiful because you see beauty in the world. You are beautiful for the way you think. You are beautiful because you are funny. You are beautiful because you are unique. You are beautiful for your ability to make other people smile even if you are sad. You are beautiful because you had a hard time, but you kept smiling. You are beautiful because you are stronger today than you were yesterday. You are beautiful because you are talented. You are beautiful because you laugh. You are beautiful because you never give up, and you keep going.  You are beautiful because you are smart. You are beautiful because you are genuine and sincere. You are beautiful because you help others. You are beautiful because you just want the best for someone. You are beautiful because you love. You are beautiful because you are YOU.

This's what beauty is, and you are beautiful deep down to your soul.

A Mothering Heart

Some might say that I'm too sensitive, but I think the truth is that I just feel too much. Every word, every action, every energy goes straight to my heart, and I feel it. And my feelings this morning matched the moodiness of the sky: dull, grey, and weepy. A crack in my brave face revealed that thinking about the missing pieces of our family makes my heart ache.

As I sat in church, I was hyperaware of all the babies around me. Not just the babies though...but the way the babies clung to their mothers. The smallest of babies were content to be rocked and held through the service. The older babies though, bravely toddled through the mazes of isles. They couldn't be tempted to stop and snuggle anyone. No, that was something for which they hurried back to mother for.  For you see...Mothers, they are pretty special people.  

My heart ached for a baby to mother. To let me snuggle them, to hug them, to rock them safely to sleep.  To share a smile. To wipe away a tear. To help them color a picture, to give them a snack. To hold them on my lap, and sing a soft song in their ear.  To take their tiny hand, and guide them to where they want to go. 

As the meeting ended...mothers surrounded me.  One mother took my face in her hands and reassured me that all would be well. One mother said she had knit me a pair of socks to keep me warm. One mother shared a smile with me, and gave me a hug. One mother simply sat with me, and was my friend. They loved me with a mothering heart. 

And then I realized. I can have a mothering heart too, even though I'm not a mother yet. I can comfort those around me.  I can put others needs before mine. I can love those around me. And feeling that made the sun come out again. 

A Father's Love

So… since Jamie has been doing most of the grunt work on this, and since technically I’m supposed to be the writer in the family, I wanted to check in and give a bit of a shout out to the birth fathers out there. We will be, after all, united in the fact that we want our babies to be safe, protected, and loved; and I want you to feel safe with me protecting and loving this precious piece of you. The commending in adoption scenarios usually goes to the birthmothers and I don’t want to negate that in any way. But, as a man that has only been able to dream of fatherhood for the past decade, I simply cannot grasp the entirety of what you, as a birthfather would sacrifice on my behalf. Therefore, feel free to sit back, and clean out your metaphorical shotgun or wipe down your machete as if preparing to allow your daughter out on a date for this first time. I’m here to prove my worth and help you understand why my value as a father is something worth fighting for.

As a teacher for nearly a decade, I have learned exactly what it means to be a good or a bad parent, what it means to be a babysitter or a mentor, and what it means to be that one person to provide hope. To paraphrase Frank McCourt, I have been, “a shoulder to cry on, a disciplinarian, a singer, a low-level scholar, a clerk, a referee, a clown, a counselor, a dress-code enforcer, a conductor, an apologist, a philosopher, a collaborator, a tap dancer, a politician, a therapist, a fool, a traffic cop, a priest, a mother-father-brother-sister-uncle-aunt, a bookkeeper, a critic, a psychologist, and the last straw.” I don’t say all of this to toot my own horn but rather to provide you with a resume of experience that, among other things, has led me towards the penultimate job of being a father. I’ve had the opportunity to be a father to hundreds of kids who lacked role models, examples, coaches, friends, heroes, or anyone to help them feel safe in life; all the while asking myself and God why I couldn’t be trusted with this job in my own home. I know that it’s time now. I know there is a little baby out there for me. But this one will be different from the kids I see at school. They won’t feel alone. Their home will be a sanctuary. They will ALWAYS know that someone loves them, that someone is there for them, and that he will never abandon them, regardless of the choices they make in life.

If they play sports, I will teach them to play their best, to never give up, and I will be at every game. But I will also teach them that if they lose, that it’s not the end of the world. If they play music or entertain, I will never miss a beat, but rather I’ll make sure they have every opportunity to follow their dreams. I will expose them to life, love, culture, and the arts, but I will also give them enough space to roam freely and make their own decisions. I will teach them to read, write, and communicate; to find what makes them happy and hold on to that forever. They will not fear me, but they will treat their mother with respect. They will laugh A LOT and they will learn to love life and be grateful. These and many other things I can only hope that you will trust me to achieve. I will love them with all my heart.

Sincerely, 

Steve

A Story of Open Adoption

As we've started this journey, we've come across so many amazing and incredible adoption stories.

I came across this video this morning, and I loved it. It's so incredibly touching. I love how this story shows that God has a plan, and He puts people into our path for a reason...to let us help each other.  And that's incredible to me. And I love how this story shows the birth mother as a part of their family. I hope that we have the chance to show our birth mother and birth father that they will have a place in our family. Our baby will always know that there was a lot of love surrounding them coming into the world, and that they were never 'not wanted', but that they were placed because of an amazing amount of love.

I have no idea how our story will go, but I hope it's like this one.

Take Heart...

The past few days I've been thinking a lot about our birthmother. How hard this whole process must be for her. I've never been in her shoes...but I imagine that her "shoes" could be heavy, lonely and difficult ones.

I wish I could somehow help shoulder her burden.

When I'm going through a really difficult time, I've found that uplifting words bring me peace and comfort. If I could talk to our birthmother...these are just a few encouraging words I wish I could say to her...

Brave Love

I just want to say how much I already love our birth mom...whoever she is, where ever she is. I know that sounds crazy...but I really do! I wish I could give her a big hug. I think that she is the strongest, most selfless person I will have the chance to meet, and I am so grateful for the incredible love she has for her baby. I can't imagine having to make a decision like this...but I imagine her and her courage, that she just wants the very best for her baby. There is no greater love than that! 

"Not every mother can be a mom, and not every mom gets to be a mother. It doesn't seem fair, but life can be like that. And we all just do what we can with the hand we've been dealt. But maybe every once in awhile a mom and a mother will find each other, join hands, and be to the other what they can't be for themselves. Because, even if she's not ready to be a mom, a mother can be strong and brave. She can turn nine months into a lifetime. And turn a couple into a family. Maybe it's easier said than done. But then, being a superhero always is."

Come What May...

We've felt full of awe this week.

Awestruck over the outpouring of love and support we've received from our friends, family, and complete strangers. The sheer goodness and kindness of people completely amazes me.

I haven't felt this peaceful about things in a while. Peace came this week, and it was tangible.   This is a scary adventure because we can't see in front of us. We don't know how this is going to work...but we just know that it will.

Wise words from this wise man have been ringing in my ears this week...

-Joseph B. Wirthlin