Hello, two faithful readers and countless (hundreds? thousands?) unnamed others :) A bit of blogging humor there.
I meant to blog about our adoption experience but as it turns out having a toddler around can really put a cramp in your blogging style, especially when you're not a reliable blogger to begin with.
The wonderful news is that the bumps in the process smoothed out after a false start and we met our beautiful new 18 month old daughter in early September. It took 7 days for us to receive the required ICPC (Interstate Compact) approvals from both States. We returned home on September 11th.
So now it's my hope to share more about the experience of beginning life with a new little one when that new little one has a life and opinions of her own. And can't really communicate any of it to these new strangers who call themselves "Mom and Dad".
One initial realization that hit me is exactly how difficult toddler adoption is...not for parents (though it's a challenge) but for the child. This isn't a newly discovered fact. But it a newly realized "ah ha" moment for me. Some things you just can't fully understand until you are living it.
Here is this little person whose job as a budding 2 year old is to separate and individuate from her caregiver/s. Along come these people who are completely new to her and she is faced now with the gargantuan task of attaching to them and trusting that they will actually take care of her and meet her needs. Attaching means allowing someone to do things...lots of things for you. Only at this point in her development every fiber of her being is saying "ME DO IT!!!"
The challenge is in allowing her enough independence to be 19 months old but at the same time encouraging enough dependence that she learns to trust that Mommy and Daddy will be here to take care of her needs, that she can trust us, and hopefully that we're kinda fun along the way. :)
So here we go on an interesting tight rope walk of attaching/dependence and individuation/independence.
PS. For a great read on toddler adoption try the classic: Toddler Adoption The Weaver's Craft by Mary Hopkins Best It's a classic!
Monday, October 18, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Bumpity bump, bump, bump
Another day of waiting. As unbelievable as it sounds, on her way back with some of the documents, the little one's mother had her purse stolen. So she spent the afternoon in the police department reporting the theft and was left without money or her ticket to get back.
She now has a way home, but it's unlikely she will be here in time for a meeting. I believe the agency continues to wait on the doctor's office to fax over records. While it can be hard to believe how difficult this is, I do believe it. We had our own struggles with our own medical records which we discovered were not completely faxed to the new doctor, we are still working on that one...a year later. But that's beside the point.
There's nothing much we can do really. It wouldn't be proper for us to offer to help because this is not our decision and not our part of the process.
We went exploring alittle today and saw some neat places. It was good to get out. But my mind can't help but wander to the little one and what she might be like.
The agency is feeling badly that they had us come out so early. I feel silly for having jumped on the idea so quickly. Truely, of all people, I should have known to ask if the paperwork was in order! It's what I DO for a job!
I've seen these bumps happen in lots of adoptions. I have come to realize they are more typical than not. Someone once said that about weddings to me too....there will always be something that doesn't go the way you planned. So there you have it, weddings and adoptions are both bumpy rides. We are padding our bumps with prayer.
She now has a way home, but it's unlikely she will be here in time for a meeting. I believe the agency continues to wait on the doctor's office to fax over records. While it can be hard to believe how difficult this is, I do believe it. We had our own struggles with our own medical records which we discovered were not completely faxed to the new doctor, we are still working on that one...a year later. But that's beside the point.
There's nothing much we can do really. It wouldn't be proper for us to offer to help because this is not our decision and not our part of the process.
We went exploring alittle today and saw some neat places. It was good to get out. But my mind can't help but wander to the little one and what she might be like.
The agency is feeling badly that they had us come out so early. I feel silly for having jumped on the idea so quickly. Truely, of all people, I should have known to ask if the paperwork was in order! It's what I DO for a job!
I've seen these bumps happen in lots of adoptions. I have come to realize they are more typical than not. Someone once said that about weddings to me too....there will always be something that doesn't go the way you planned. So there you have it, weddings and adoptions are both bumpy rides. We are padding our bumps with prayer.
Monday, August 30, 2010
A Different Path And Another Bump
It's been alittle over a month since my last entry. In that time, we have decided to adopt domestically. We are working with an agency that specializes in finding homes for African-American and bi-racial children.
The most difficult part of our decision was wrapping our minds around the idea of parenting a newborn again. It's been over 9 years since we've had a brand new baby and we know we have forgotten alot! We asked the agency if they ever placed toddlers and they said it was rare. So newborn it was! We went to work creating a profile book and were able to pull together photos of our family and write an "all about us" page.
No sooner had that been complete than the agency called us and asked for our book and a letter to expecting mothers because they had a mother who wanted to find a family for her toddler and they wanted to provide her with multiple profiles to look at. So we hurried about with the finishing touches in the hopes that we might prove to be the family for this little one should her mother decide that adoption was the answer for her. The next day we received the call that all adopting parents wait for!
The agency asked us to fly to the state of this little one's residence so that we could meet her mother and go about gaining legal custody.
Here we sit today. We arrived early this morning, but the little one's medical report wasn't ready so we haven't been able to meet. We were disappointed to learn that we would have to wait. We're hopeful that tomorrow will be the day, but nothing is for certain. That we know for certain!
In reflecting, I believe this may be God's way of giving us a little "breather", some down time, before we enter the wild ride known as toddlerhood. So, I'm breathing deeply trying to get a handle on all the emotions coursing through me...hopeful that tomorrow will be the day we get past this newest bump in our adoption journey.
The most difficult part of our decision was wrapping our minds around the idea of parenting a newborn again. It's been over 9 years since we've had a brand new baby and we know we have forgotten alot! We asked the agency if they ever placed toddlers and they said it was rare. So newborn it was! We went to work creating a profile book and were able to pull together photos of our family and write an "all about us" page.
No sooner had that been complete than the agency called us and asked for our book and a letter to expecting mothers because they had a mother who wanted to find a family for her toddler and they wanted to provide her with multiple profiles to look at. So we hurried about with the finishing touches in the hopes that we might prove to be the family for this little one should her mother decide that adoption was the answer for her. The next day we received the call that all adopting parents wait for!
The agency asked us to fly to the state of this little one's residence so that we could meet her mother and go about gaining legal custody.
Here we sit today. We arrived early this morning, but the little one's medical report wasn't ready so we haven't been able to meet. We were disappointed to learn that we would have to wait. We're hopeful that tomorrow will be the day, but nothing is for certain. That we know for certain!
In reflecting, I believe this may be God's way of giving us a little "breather", some down time, before we enter the wild ride known as toddlerhood. So, I'm breathing deeply trying to get a handle on all the emotions coursing through me...hopeful that tomorrow will be the day we get past this newest bump in our adoption journey.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Rest In Peace
Today we learned that Pastor Rashid Emmanuel and Sajid Emmanuel...two innocent young men, falsely accused, illegally arrested, in the final moments before being released by the Pakistani courts were gunned down in front of the district courts in Faislabad Pakistan.
Their only crime was being born in a country where they were not allowed to freely live out their beliefs.
In their short 32 and 30 years on earth, they made a difference...a tremendous difference not only in the lives of those they worked with directly in their country, but for many of us who never had the opportunity to meet them in person. Pastor Rashid opened the world a little wider for me. I am more aware of the plight of people in a part of the world I never considered much before.
Thank you, Rashid and Sajid for the legacy you leave in the hearts of so many around the world.
May you both rest in peace.
Their only crime was being born in a country where they were not allowed to freely live out their beliefs.
In their short 32 and 30 years on earth, they made a difference...a tremendous difference not only in the lives of those they worked with directly in their country, but for many of us who never had the opportunity to meet them in person. Pastor Rashid opened the world a little wider for me. I am more aware of the plight of people in a part of the world I never considered much before.
Thank you, Rashid and Sajid for the legacy you leave in the hearts of so many around the world.
May you both rest in peace.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
I am an Ant
There's no mispelling in the title. I am an ant, metaphorically speaking.
Tuesday was a difficult day in the small adoption world I am a part of. It started with my having to deliver difficult news to a family who was waiting the court date for a little boy they had met in Russia in March and were hoping would be their own any day now. As it turns out, the boy's biological family is attempting to regain custody that was taken from them by the Russian courts when he was merely weeks old. It's an extremely difficult part of my job to deliver news like that. Not the way to start the week after a long weekend.
Later in the day, we learned that the pastor we are working with in Pakistan to start our orphanage was arrested. He is accused of blasphemy...an extremely serious crime in Pakistan..one that carries the death penalty. We don't know any other details at this time. We do know that this not only jeopardizes his life, but likely the life of his wife as well. I feel so much shock and sorrow.
It goes without saying that his life is first and foremost in our thoughts and prayers. Then thoughts turn to the work we were doing together...no one knows at this time if it can or will continue.
All of this ickyness led me out to my back yard Tuesday afternoon. The weeds are running rampant and I really needed to step out of the office to breathe, think, and accomplish something..anything even if just to make a small patch of the yard look better. I put on my gloves and started pulling the weeds from the rocks near our cement patio. The birds scatter seed there and it takes root and grows amazingly well in the rock. Thankfully, the task was easy given the recent rain and the fact that roots can't grow too deeply in rock. As I pulled the weeds I began to notice that where they grew most thickly, small black ants had built their miniature ant hills. This was no revelation, believe me, I've pulled my share of weeds and seen a fair share of these mini ant hills.
What I did begin to notice though, was how the ants reacted to my uprooting their home (you'll have to indulge my anthropomorphizing here). Some ants got "angry" for lack of a better description and ran about trying to defend their crumbling home. Some ants clung to the root of the weed, refusing to let go. This led to their demise or at least to their significant relocation in the heap of weeds that I tossed. I didn't notice at first, but there was a third set of ants. They came to the surface later after I'd uprooted their home and the other ants had reacted. These ants began to rebuild the hill. They seemed to work together once the chaos had past to try once again to make something of their lives.
I couldn't help but reflect on how like the ants I was on Tuesday in thinking of the affect the news out of Pakistan might have on our own adoption. My immediate reaction was to cling to the root...the plan we have in place...regardless of the realities of the situation. "It is our plan to adopt a little girl from Pakistan, we'll stick to it no matter what." As the immediacy of the response and news subsided, I felt a moment of anger at the situation. This is not the first time we've experienced set backs in our own adoption journeys and I felt angry that this was happening to us. I need only think of the family and the Russian boy from earlier that day to get past this angry, defensive response.
So now I strive to be like the third set of ants. To wait patiently as we await news and to begin to rebuild this dream of adopting a daughter. Maybe the anthill of our adoption won't look quite the same as it did initially. After all, does the country of our child's birth matter? Does her skin color? What about her age? Maybe we are not meant to adopt again at all? All things to ponder in the waiting and the rebuilding.
A little over a month ago I wrote "I record this here mostly for myself so that as that wheel hits bumps and crevices along the way or becomes stuck in muck or even possibly bounces off onto another path " Perhaps we're at one of those bumps taking us to another path. It's hard to know.
But for now I strive to be an ant....the kind that waits and rebuilds one small piece at a time.
Tuesday was a difficult day in the small adoption world I am a part of. It started with my having to deliver difficult news to a family who was waiting the court date for a little boy they had met in Russia in March and were hoping would be their own any day now. As it turns out, the boy's biological family is attempting to regain custody that was taken from them by the Russian courts when he was merely weeks old. It's an extremely difficult part of my job to deliver news like that. Not the way to start the week after a long weekend.
Later in the day, we learned that the pastor we are working with in Pakistan to start our orphanage was arrested. He is accused of blasphemy...an extremely serious crime in Pakistan..one that carries the death penalty. We don't know any other details at this time. We do know that this not only jeopardizes his life, but likely the life of his wife as well. I feel so much shock and sorrow.
It goes without saying that his life is first and foremost in our thoughts and prayers. Then thoughts turn to the work we were doing together...no one knows at this time if it can or will continue.
All of this ickyness led me out to my back yard Tuesday afternoon. The weeds are running rampant and I really needed to step out of the office to breathe, think, and accomplish something..anything even if just to make a small patch of the yard look better. I put on my gloves and started pulling the weeds from the rocks near our cement patio. The birds scatter seed there and it takes root and grows amazingly well in the rock. Thankfully, the task was easy given the recent rain and the fact that roots can't grow too deeply in rock. As I pulled the weeds I began to notice that where they grew most thickly, small black ants had built their miniature ant hills. This was no revelation, believe me, I've pulled my share of weeds and seen a fair share of these mini ant hills.
What I did begin to notice though, was how the ants reacted to my uprooting their home (you'll have to indulge my anthropomorphizing here). Some ants got "angry" for lack of a better description and ran about trying to defend their crumbling home. Some ants clung to the root of the weed, refusing to let go. This led to their demise or at least to their significant relocation in the heap of weeds that I tossed. I didn't notice at first, but there was a third set of ants. They came to the surface later after I'd uprooted their home and the other ants had reacted. These ants began to rebuild the hill. They seemed to work together once the chaos had past to try once again to make something of their lives.
I couldn't help but reflect on how like the ants I was on Tuesday in thinking of the affect the news out of Pakistan might have on our own adoption. My immediate reaction was to cling to the root...the plan we have in place...regardless of the realities of the situation. "It is our plan to adopt a little girl from Pakistan, we'll stick to it no matter what." As the immediacy of the response and news subsided, I felt a moment of anger at the situation. This is not the first time we've experienced set backs in our own adoption journeys and I felt angry that this was happening to us. I need only think of the family and the Russian boy from earlier that day to get past this angry, defensive response.
So now I strive to be like the third set of ants. To wait patiently as we await news and to begin to rebuild this dream of adopting a daughter. Maybe the anthill of our adoption won't look quite the same as it did initially. After all, does the country of our child's birth matter? Does her skin color? What about her age? Maybe we are not meant to adopt again at all? All things to ponder in the waiting and the rebuilding.
A little over a month ago I wrote "I record this here mostly for myself so that as that wheel hits bumps and crevices along the way or becomes stuck in muck or even possibly bounces off onto another path " Perhaps we're at one of those bumps taking us to another path. It's hard to know.
But for now I strive to be an ant....the kind that waits and rebuilds one small piece at a time.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
When?
Things are beginning to move on our adoption! Albeit slowly..like a heavy stone wheel that people are beginning to push out of a rut. I know at some point that wheel is going to start rolling faster and faster and before we know it we'll be bringing home our little girl!
The million dollar question that everyone asks us is when? When will you bring her home? Right now, to be honest, I'm more interested in WHO? Who is this little one we are so anxious to love? The when can wait for now.
The "when?" question though, always strikes me as an odd one. Mostly because an assumption of what the timing should be goes along with the question when it's asked. So many outside the adoption community assume adoption should be a quick, easy (and most of the time free) process. People are astounded to learn that the process takes time and requires lots of work and patience (and yes, money...unless you are adopting through US foster care). The first time we went through this process I was in a hurry too. But this time around, I'm ok with the time it is taking. Especially, if it's just a matter of "when?" and not "if". Maybe it's because I've had the advantage of seeing and working with so many families who have waited and I get to see that the right child is placed in the right family at the right time over and over and over again.
I have to believe that our far away daughter has things she is meant to experience yet in Pakistan. People who are meant to love and care for her, things she is meant to learn before she comes to us. And maybe, just maybe we are meant to learn and grow through this process too. Maybe our faith and patience are supposed to be stretched. Goodness knows there are lots of things I could work on in both of those arenas! Maybe I'm not yet prepared to be the parent our future daughter will need.
While giving birth and adopting are two completely seperate and equally miraculous ways of building family, there are comparisons. Perhaps, we are meant to labor for this baby emotionally as we did our youngest two children and as I did physically for our oldest three. Like we learned in our birthing class all those years ago, I am going to practice my breathing, relax, and try to go with the flow of the labor...the emotions as they rise and fall...to experience it all until the little one meant for our family comes home.
I record this here mostly for myself so that as that wheel hits bumps and crevices along the way or becomes stuck in muck or even possibly bounces off onto another path that I can look back and read this and take my own advice. She will arrive. Who? We do not know. When? At just the perfect time!
The million dollar question that everyone asks us is when? When will you bring her home? Right now, to be honest, I'm more interested in WHO? Who is this little one we are so anxious to love? The when can wait for now.
The "when?" question though, always strikes me as an odd one. Mostly because an assumption of what the timing should be goes along with the question when it's asked. So many outside the adoption community assume adoption should be a quick, easy (and most of the time free) process. People are astounded to learn that the process takes time and requires lots of work and patience (and yes, money...unless you are adopting through US foster care). The first time we went through this process I was in a hurry too. But this time around, I'm ok with the time it is taking. Especially, if it's just a matter of "when?" and not "if". Maybe it's because I've had the advantage of seeing and working with so many families who have waited and I get to see that the right child is placed in the right family at the right time over and over and over again.
I have to believe that our far away daughter has things she is meant to experience yet in Pakistan. People who are meant to love and care for her, things she is meant to learn before she comes to us. And maybe, just maybe we are meant to learn and grow through this process too. Maybe our faith and patience are supposed to be stretched. Goodness knows there are lots of things I could work on in both of those arenas! Maybe I'm not yet prepared to be the parent our future daughter will need.
While giving birth and adopting are two completely seperate and equally miraculous ways of building family, there are comparisons. Perhaps, we are meant to labor for this baby emotionally as we did our youngest two children and as I did physically for our oldest three. Like we learned in our birthing class all those years ago, I am going to practice my breathing, relax, and try to go with the flow of the labor...the emotions as they rise and fall...to experience it all until the little one meant for our family comes home.
I record this here mostly for myself so that as that wheel hits bumps and crevices along the way or becomes stuck in muck or even possibly bounces off onto another path that I can look back and read this and take my own advice. She will arrive. Who? We do not know. When? At just the perfect time!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
We Are The Truth Adoption Blogger Day
The Joint Council on International Children's Services (JCICS) has asked those who blog about adoption to blog about their adoption experiences. http://adopt-abroad.com/pdf/Call_To_Action-We_Are_The_Truth.pdf This is mainly an attempt to show that a great majority of adoptions are positive experiences (even if there are struggles along the way) rather than what the mainstream media has been trying to portray over the last week in response to one family's atrocious actions.
And so, here is my adoption blog. My husband and I are the proud parents of 5 (eventually to be 6 if we are so blessed) children. Our three oldest were born to us and our youngest 2 were born to their first mothers in Guatemala and came to be our children through international adoption. We will soon be celebrating the 6th anniversaries of their home comings (their family days). While our children joined our family as young infants (5 months old and 6.5 months old), the process itself and the adjustment period (yes, even with infants there is an adjustment/bonding period) had it's difficulties.
There were many nights that I held my sweet 5 month old daughter and felt like a "fraud". It felt more like babysitting than parenting at first. But she fit into our family seamlessly. She fell right into the rythmn and routine of our bustling household. I on the other hand struggled for weeks wanting to feel maternal toward her. Some how, in the act of feedings and diaperings and playing and running from here to there together I got there...I felt like mommy.
Three months after bringing home our daughter, we traveled back to Guatemala to bring home our son. I expected to feel the same way, but knew that "fraud" feeling would pass. But surprise! I instantly felt like mommy to this big bundle of joy! He on the other hand, at 6.5 months old was having nothing of it! I did not look, smell, or sound like the mommy he had known his whole life. He went on a 24 hour hunger strike that only ended when we figured out that he would take a bottle from us if we turned our heads away and made no eye contact. Oh, he would look at us at other times, but definitely not meal time! Again, time was our friend and within a week we could gaze deeply in each others eyes as he took his bottle. The nights of waking to him screaming in terror, however, last for months....but eventually those passed too.
My "babies" are now both 6 years old. They attend kindergarten and have friends and enjoy typical 6 year old activities. They are truly and fully integeral parts of our family. We would not/ could not be who we are without them.
They have different approaches to their own adoptions. Our daughter is constantly curious and open about talking about her adoption, Guatemala, and her birth family (who we do not know). Our son on the other hand turns his back when we speak of his adoption. That is until recently. In one special moment recently, he began talking about the volcanoes of Guatemala. This was our opening to discuss Guatemala and even led to him asking questions about his birth family and adoption. We were happy to share it with him. And to take that moment when his defenses were down and he was open to really listening to instill a pride in who he is that we pray will continue to grow.
Adoption has been an amazing thing for our family. It has brought us together. All of our children are growing up in our family where adoption is just another way someone becomes family. There's nothing less or more unusal about it when compared to being born into a family. In fact, sometimes our biological children feel slighted that they don't have two countries or two moms and dads. I love that we can all view adoption so positively.
I dare venture to say that the great majority of adoptive families feel similarly, including the approximately 100,000 Russian children adopted by parents in the United States over the years. Now to convince the mainstream media of that......
And so, here is my adoption blog. My husband and I are the proud parents of 5 (eventually to be 6 if we are so blessed) children. Our three oldest were born to us and our youngest 2 were born to their first mothers in Guatemala and came to be our children through international adoption. We will soon be celebrating the 6th anniversaries of their home comings (their family days). While our children joined our family as young infants (5 months old and 6.5 months old), the process itself and the adjustment period (yes, even with infants there is an adjustment/bonding period) had it's difficulties.
There were many nights that I held my sweet 5 month old daughter and felt like a "fraud". It felt more like babysitting than parenting at first. But she fit into our family seamlessly. She fell right into the rythmn and routine of our bustling household. I on the other hand struggled for weeks wanting to feel maternal toward her. Some how, in the act of feedings and diaperings and playing and running from here to there together I got there...I felt like mommy.
Three months after bringing home our daughter, we traveled back to Guatemala to bring home our son. I expected to feel the same way, but knew that "fraud" feeling would pass. But surprise! I instantly felt like mommy to this big bundle of joy! He on the other hand, at 6.5 months old was having nothing of it! I did not look, smell, or sound like the mommy he had known his whole life. He went on a 24 hour hunger strike that only ended when we figured out that he would take a bottle from us if we turned our heads away and made no eye contact. Oh, he would look at us at other times, but definitely not meal time! Again, time was our friend and within a week we could gaze deeply in each others eyes as he took his bottle. The nights of waking to him screaming in terror, however, last for months....but eventually those passed too.
My "babies" are now both 6 years old. They attend kindergarten and have friends and enjoy typical 6 year old activities. They are truly and fully integeral parts of our family. We would not/ could not be who we are without them.
They have different approaches to their own adoptions. Our daughter is constantly curious and open about talking about her adoption, Guatemala, and her birth family (who we do not know). Our son on the other hand turns his back when we speak of his adoption. That is until recently. In one special moment recently, he began talking about the volcanoes of Guatemala. This was our opening to discuss Guatemala and even led to him asking questions about his birth family and adoption. We were happy to share it with him. And to take that moment when his defenses were down and he was open to really listening to instill a pride in who he is that we pray will continue to grow.
Adoption has been an amazing thing for our family. It has brought us together. All of our children are growing up in our family where adoption is just another way someone becomes family. There's nothing less or more unusal about it when compared to being born into a family. In fact, sometimes our biological children feel slighted that they don't have two countries or two moms and dads. I love that we can all view adoption so positively.
I dare venture to say that the great majority of adoptive families feel similarly, including the approximately 100,000 Russian children adopted by parents in the United States over the years. Now to convince the mainstream media of that......
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
We Are Expecting!
Yes, it's true....I discovered the news in the form of an email in my inbox. We are officially well into the latter first part of our paper pregnancy for our third adoption (our sixth child)!
The home study has been completed and approved by the State. Now we are just waiting on immigration to approve us and we will finish up our documents for the country. The country program we have chosen is still in its infancy which is a bit scary and we've had one false start already. I think we're ready for the challenge though and have come to realize that if this country doesn't work out, it's really not important where our child was born just that we very much want to parent another daughter.
We haven't shared our news with everyone, mostly just family and close friends. It's odd how calm I am feeling about the adoption this time around. Perhaps it's because I am working in adoption now and see how these things take all kinds of paths but most typically come to happy endings. Maybe because I feel more in control of my paperwork this time around or maybe because I'm much busier with work and the 5 kids at home. Regardless, the sense of calm about our decision is comforting to me.
As our process progresses, I will post more details here. I'm sure I will have plenty of opportunity for reflection as the process moves forward.
The home study has been completed and approved by the State. Now we are just waiting on immigration to approve us and we will finish up our documents for the country. The country program we have chosen is still in its infancy which is a bit scary and we've had one false start already. I think we're ready for the challenge though and have come to realize that if this country doesn't work out, it's really not important where our child was born just that we very much want to parent another daughter.
We haven't shared our news with everyone, mostly just family and close friends. It's odd how calm I am feeling about the adoption this time around. Perhaps it's because I am working in adoption now and see how these things take all kinds of paths but most typically come to happy endings. Maybe because I feel more in control of my paperwork this time around or maybe because I'm much busier with work and the 5 kids at home. Regardless, the sense of calm about our decision is comforting to me.
As our process progresses, I will post more details here. I'm sure I will have plenty of opportunity for reflection as the process moves forward.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Something I Came Across
I came across this prayer today. And for today it fit my life situation well, so I wanted to share it (or at least record it) here.
Thomas Merton’s Prayer
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
-Thomas Merton, “Thoughts in Solitude”
Thomas Merton
Jan. 31, 1915 – Dec. 10, 1968
20th Century American Trappist monk
Thomas Merton’s Prayer
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
-Thomas Merton, “Thoughts in Solitude”
Thomas Merton
Jan. 31, 1915 – Dec. 10, 1968
20th Century American Trappist monk
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Only One Thing To Do
As I feel myself losing patience and the frustration of the wait for these children to arrive to their families mounting. I know there is only one thing to do to find calm..... Pray
Anima Christi, sanctifica me.
Corpus Christi, salva me.
Sanguis Christi, inebria me.
Aqua lateris Christi, lava me.
Passio Christi, conforta me.
O bone Jesu, exaudi me.
Intra tua vulnera absconde me.
Ne permittas me separari a te.
Ab hoste maligno defende me.
In hora mortis meae voca me.
Et iube me venire ad te,
Ut cum Sanctis tuis laudem te.
In saecula saeculorum.
Amen
Anima Christi, sanctifica me.
Corpus Christi, salva me.
Sanguis Christi, inebria me.
Aqua lateris Christi, lava me.
Passio Christi, conforta me.
O bone Jesu, exaudi me.
Intra tua vulnera absconde me.
Ne permittas me separari a te.
Ab hoste maligno defende me.
In hora mortis meae voca me.
Et iube me venire ad te,
Ut cum Sanctis tuis laudem te.
In saecula saeculorum.
Amen
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Rest
I just need a place to vent my exhaustion tonight, if that even makes sense. After a week and a half of working with families trying to get their children out of Haiti, I'm just tired. And at the same time I feel so very selfish for even noticing my own exhaustion. It's not like I'm on the ground in Haiti experiencing the devastation first hand. I'm sitting comfortably in my office, albiet a lot more this past week and a half....just making phone calls and answering emails, trying to figure out what can be done from this end to get these children visas to come to the U.S.
The group of children I'm working with is small. Their adoptions have completed in Haiti. We and their waiting families are going through the proper channels and work IS being done in Port au Prince. It's just taking time.
Today I learned that one man...only one...has been processing orphan visas at the Embassy in PaP. While one could be angry with this reality, blaming the government for not having more personnel there, etc.. I was actually amazed at all this one man was able to do while he worked on his own...not only processing their paperwork, but going out to let the children in, being sure they had food and water as they waited...single handedly. That on top of the fact he must be dealing with his own losses...coworkers perhaps family...just the mere trauma around him. So rather than anger...I am in awe of this unrecognized hero. I hope that in the weeks or months ahead once he has a chance to rest that he is somehow recognized for his work in these first days after the disaster.
Part of my exhaustion comes from the ups and downs in the waiting. One minute we're unsure about the well being of the children, the next I'm on 24 hour call in case I need to jump on a plane to meet them as they enter the U.S. Thankfully the children are all well. And the 24 hour call is off for now. Maybe emotions can level out.
They can level out until I can allow the reality to sink in. In many ways this extra work is my way of not allowing myself to think of the enormity of what has happened, not to feel the effects. Yesterday, I learned that the office of the orphanage we work in collapsed...the staff is all dead. People who I never met, but who shared the same goal and loved and worked for the same children as I am....they are all just gone. And so a part of me pushes on to honor them, their lives and their work...to be sure that what was important to them, that these children find forever families..reaches completion.
While they may not have had dignity in death nor in their burial, may I can somehow help their work to have meaning for this group of children...no matter how small.
Rest in peace dear collegeaues...your work will be done.
The group of children I'm working with is small. Their adoptions have completed in Haiti. We and their waiting families are going through the proper channels and work IS being done in Port au Prince. It's just taking time.
Today I learned that one man...only one...has been processing orphan visas at the Embassy in PaP. While one could be angry with this reality, blaming the government for not having more personnel there, etc.. I was actually amazed at all this one man was able to do while he worked on his own...not only processing their paperwork, but going out to let the children in, being sure they had food and water as they waited...single handedly. That on top of the fact he must be dealing with his own losses...coworkers perhaps family...just the mere trauma around him. So rather than anger...I am in awe of this unrecognized hero. I hope that in the weeks or months ahead once he has a chance to rest that he is somehow recognized for his work in these first days after the disaster.
Part of my exhaustion comes from the ups and downs in the waiting. One minute we're unsure about the well being of the children, the next I'm on 24 hour call in case I need to jump on a plane to meet them as they enter the U.S. Thankfully the children are all well. And the 24 hour call is off for now. Maybe emotions can level out.
They can level out until I can allow the reality to sink in. In many ways this extra work is my way of not allowing myself to think of the enormity of what has happened, not to feel the effects. Yesterday, I learned that the office of the orphanage we work in collapsed...the staff is all dead. People who I never met, but who shared the same goal and loved and worked for the same children as I am....they are all just gone. And so a part of me pushes on to honor them, their lives and their work...to be sure that what was important to them, that these children find forever families..reaches completion.
While they may not have had dignity in death nor in their burial, may I can somehow help their work to have meaning for this group of children...no matter how small.
Rest in peace dear collegeaues...your work will be done.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Finding Grey in the Rainbow
I have my own personal tradition at the beginning of each new year. It involves the simple act of completing a new family calendar. "Some deep tradition!" you say sarcastically. What started as merely a way of getting everyone's birthday and other big days on the new calendar quickly became much more. In the midst of flipping through the past year's calendar to retrieve the dates for the new year's calendar (yes, we're talking old fashioned paper here), I get to simultaneously look forward and backward. Forward to the upcoming year of celebrations and events with their spots already reserved. Backward over a year's worth of celebrations, doctor's appointments, school and kid activities.
It never ceases to amaze me as I look at the little rectangles with their color-coded scribbling, one color per family member, how very much 7 people can manage to literally squeeze into a year! I've often thought we need a larger calendar, but realize this wouldn't create more time in the year.
My tradition was bittersweet this year. I knew it would be. So rather than completing it on New Year's Day, I waited. My grandmother passed away right before Thanksgiving this year. When I came to October, her birthday month, I skipped recording her birthday on the 25th. That simple act was more difficult than I'd imagined it would be each previous year as she grew older. As she approached her 90th year, I would realize each new year's day that it very well could be the last time I recorded her birthday on the calendar. Somehow though, the official act of skipping her day...what would have been her 98th... was cause for allowing the grief to surface.
I realized as I allowed the tears to come just how much I'd been through in the last 2 months. While the colorful rectangles filled with the appointments of life don't portray the events, since mid-October we lost the little girl whom we had thought would be ours through adoption; my grandmother passed away and I had emergency surgery. There's been little time, I realized as the tears flowed, to really process everything that has happened recently. Somehow we continued to make our way through the colors on the calendar rectangles that grew ever more crowded during the holiday season.
While the new year is a time of new beginnings and resolutions, I'm finding myself looking more to the past and trying to process all that has occurred. I am struck in this processing how much easier it is to move forward; to push toward that new beginning rather than allowing myself the time needed to really reflect and feel the effects of the recent past. Yet, some part of me knows that in order to move forward healthfully, I first need to move through this grieving process.
As the calendar again begins to fill from it's plain white pages to a rainbow of appointments, activities, and celebrations, I'm trying my best to pause between the colors to find myself and allow in the grey of grief in order to move forward once again.
It never ceases to amaze me as I look at the little rectangles with their color-coded scribbling, one color per family member, how very much 7 people can manage to literally squeeze into a year! I've often thought we need a larger calendar, but realize this wouldn't create more time in the year.
My tradition was bittersweet this year. I knew it would be. So rather than completing it on New Year's Day, I waited. My grandmother passed away right before Thanksgiving this year. When I came to October, her birthday month, I skipped recording her birthday on the 25th. That simple act was more difficult than I'd imagined it would be each previous year as she grew older. As she approached her 90th year, I would realize each new year's day that it very well could be the last time I recorded her birthday on the calendar. Somehow though, the official act of skipping her day...what would have been her 98th... was cause for allowing the grief to surface.
I realized as I allowed the tears to come just how much I'd been through in the last 2 months. While the colorful rectangles filled with the appointments of life don't portray the events, since mid-October we lost the little girl whom we had thought would be ours through adoption; my grandmother passed away and I had emergency surgery. There's been little time, I realized as the tears flowed, to really process everything that has happened recently. Somehow we continued to make our way through the colors on the calendar rectangles that grew ever more crowded during the holiday season.
While the new year is a time of new beginnings and resolutions, I'm finding myself looking more to the past and trying to process all that has occurred. I am struck in this processing how much easier it is to move forward; to push toward that new beginning rather than allowing myself the time needed to really reflect and feel the effects of the recent past. Yet, some part of me knows that in order to move forward healthfully, I first need to move through this grieving process.
As the calendar again begins to fill from it's plain white pages to a rainbow of appointments, activities, and celebrations, I'm trying my best to pause between the colors to find myself and allow in the grey of grief in order to move forward once again.
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