Excuse me, I’m having a moment
If you know me, you know that I’m a strange combination of tender-hearted and feisty. I’ll cry at a stinking Google Chrome commercial (you know, the one where the dad is writing to his little girl—oh.my.gosh), but I’ll also call you out if try to cut my 4’6” mother in line at the grocery store or stare at her too long (grown, middle-aged women—you are the WORST). Don’t think for one second I’ll let that slide. So, I guess it’s no wonder that this process has completely turned my little world upside down and that one moment, I’m completely fine and happy and the next, I’m in the fetal position crying uncontrollably with snot all over my face. It’s not pretty, but it is what it is.
So, why am I telling you this? Because I want you to know that yes, I’m happy and excited and I have warm fuzzies all over. But I’m also completely broken and feel incredibly vulnerable. And I know it’s just going to get harder. I know that I have no idea what the next year or two or forever is going to look like. I know that I’ll lose friends and gain some, too. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s already happened. I know that my sinful nature of obsessive planning is being taught some very painful lessons about blind faith and truly trusting in the Lord. I’ve proclaimed my faith most of my life, and yet, I find myself debating with the all-knowing, sovereign God of the universe over this. I know that at times, our family will be looked at and treated differently for being interracial, that our child will have hardships I’ve never known because they will have been through trauma that I, nor the vast majority of people I know, can even imagine. As this little one’s mother, it breaks my heart. It kills me that we live in a fallen world where adoption is even necessary, but it is.
So…I’m going to give you a heads up if you’re planning on following along with us on this journey. I’m not going to promise you sappy (no pun-intended) (actually, yes, pun totally intended) updates and happy little happenings and cute anecdotes all the time. That’s just not the reality of it and I’m not exactly known for sugar-coating things. But I do promise you the truth—the joys as well as the heartaches. And lucky for you, if you’re simply reading along, you’ll be spared seeing my ugly-cry. I save that for unfortunate people like my husband and sister. You’re welcome.
