So last week, came and went without the sweet faces of our children. There's a part of me that feels a bit embarrassed to have sent out a "rally cry." There's another part of me that is so grateful that I did. I felt the love, I felt the prayers, I felt the circle of hope tight around me.
It is not our time yet. I've kicked, screamed and cried in protest in the last 20 months, but it is just not time yet. I've wanted to grab a hold of this process, I've wanted to take control of this so badly, but there is nothing I can do. All I can do is continue to pray, to love, to hope for my children.
I was so naive when I started this process. I thought it would be easy - 6 to 9 months and boom! Two children. In a way, I'm glad it wasn't so easy. I don't think I respected the sacredness of what is going on. Half-way around the world, a family is going through unimaginable trauma. Our family is being born out of that trauma. There will be joy, but right now, there is pain beyond what I can understand.
I don't like to confess my controlling side, but it is there. I have a pretty strong personality and am used to getting my way. This wait is teaching me to trust and respect the process, the journey.
I made some Easter bread the other day and I was so pleased with the results. It took most of the day - some of the time was spent measuring, mixing, kneading. Some of the time , there was nothing I could do. The dough had to rest and rise - my meddling would have ruined it. Even after baking, the bread had to sit and cool a bit before we could break into it. Respecting the process. I still have so much to learn about that. This waiting is changing me. It is in some invisible way, a gift. I don't fully understand what is happening, just as I don't know the chemistry in the rising bread dough. I am going to make it through this final stage of waiting, but I am going to try to honor it, go through it and respect the process.
I also thought the process would be faster than it has been, and I've only been waiting barely six months. And like you, when I start to get impatient with waiting, I try to remind myself that I am waiting for a child to experience a terrible loss so that I can be a parent...sort of puts things in perspective.
ReplyDeleteI have a feeling that with the attitude you describe in this post, you are going to be a great mother!
The process is brutal. What was that beautiful quote? Your words are so beautiful. I hope you print this for your children when they are adults. I think they would appreciate it.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you feel the love. And I'm glad you reached out.
My comment didn't post earlier. What I said was that you are my hero in waiting. Beautiful bread, beautiful analogy, beautiful you.
ReplyDeleteI think that bread's had time to rise.
ReplyDeleteSolidarity with the waiters!
If I never mentioned it before...I love that France posts picture with the umbrella.
This was one of those posts that I had to sleep on. I am sure there are lots of really good posts out there about dealing with the wait, but so far, this is one of the best I have read. It is comforting to me and I'm not even waiting. As for the rally cry, I think it was a good thing. I hold you in my thoughts and my rally cry for you and for other long waiters, all the waiters in fact, just keeps going.
ReplyDeleteChristine
I love your bread analogy. This process is mysterious, but I think it builds character in all of us -- it's definitely a bonding process in itself. Continuing my rally cry for you, and can't wait to meet you in person one day.
ReplyDeleteFunny thing, Evelyn...I have been baking of lot of bread of late too. Now, that is one beautiful Easter loaf you created; a work of art really. There is wisdom, peace and joy to be found in cooking and baking, I belive. I like your analogy.
ReplyDeleteI love this post too. And the bread looks delish. Good luck with the process honoring and respecting. After 13 months I lost all respect for myself and the process. I wanted to smash the process to teeny crumbs. No wonder I cannot bake for the life of me!
ReplyDeleteThat bread looks so good! I'm glad to see a post from you, and know you are OK. I had so hoped that the post after the rally cry could be a referral post. I agree with Julie, you are a hero, a role-model for other waiters. It will be so wonderful when your time comes!
ReplyDeleteAh, Evelyn....I'm soooo, sooo sorry your match didn't come last week. Do not be embarrassed by the rally cry at all. We're all here to help you through however we can.
ReplyDeleteYour post is beautiful and gave me goosebumps. So thoughtful and insightful. Your match is coming, your match is coming. *hug*
This is my first visit to your blog and here I find this beautiful post! I'm also in the grueling phase of a slightly different wait, just barely making it through each day. Your warmth and equanimity will make today a little more bearable, so thank you. I think of you often and will rejoice and celebrate with you when your time comes!
ReplyDelete(Shrijnana from the WHFC group)
Hi.. i am new to your blog and appreciate reading it so far. we are also adopting from E, waiting for a referral 0-18month old girl. I love your faith and how you called out for prayer in your wait. I would be honored if you would let me join your journey and rally with you in prayer. I look forward to following your blog..
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