ponderings a year later

A year ago right now I was planning for a baby named Kaiya to come home and enter our lives. I was anxiously getting packed, making travel arrangements, and had no doubt in my mind that that adoption was going to happen.

Funny how life throws you curve balls.

Today, instead, I am happily playing with my absolutely beautiful and smiley daughter, Autumn, and this morning I went to our adoption agency to sit on a panel of adoptive parents to tell my story to others who are in various stages of the process. I wasn’t sure how I would react when telling the story again, and I found that I would need much more than 2 hours to completely relive the process and get everything out that I wanted. But, you know, that’s why I have this blog.

To prepare for this upcoming talk I have been back re-reading my blog from November and December of 2010. It’s funny how I can still feel that pit in my stomach, and ache that I had when we found out that Kaiya wasn’t ours. I almost feel guilty right now for having that feeling, because if Kaiya had remained ours, well, obviously we wouldn’t have my perfect-in-every-way daughter, Autumn. The future that I envisioned last November was not what it is today, BUT, I obviously wouldn’t have our current day situation any different.

Those failed adoptions that we encountered were mind blowing- and not in a good way. They ripped out my soul and put a new, less innocent one back inside. For those last few months of 2010 my life felt surreal. I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. But that all changed around 9 months ago when a new little girl entered our lives. Although I didn’t like that period of my life, rather, I pretty much hated it, I now think that it made me stronger, and I wouldn’t change it.

I mean, I got an amazing child in the end, so that’s all that matters, right?

Well, yes, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that failed adoptions are PAINFUL. By saying that in the end all turned out beautifully (which it totally did) doesn’t mean that those 2-3 months of my life weren’t sad and full of heartache.

So what would I say to a friend if they experienced a failed adoption? Nothing, probably. I wouldn’t say that it was meant to be (I pretty much hated that phrase those few months) I wouldn’t say that things will get better (cause at that moment in time, well, it feels like your heart got ripped out of your chest- so they wouldn’t believe me even though I know that it’s true) and I wouldn’t even mention the fact that there is a little girl or boy out there that is going to be in their family if they just stick with it. Cause you know what, sticking with it just sounds like torture at that moment.

So ya, I’d probably do what my friends and family did for me. Sit, listen, and bring me beer. Yep, that’s what I’d do.

But now, a year later, I am sitting here with my two amazing children sleeping upstairs. I know that I won’t ever have to go through another domestic failed adoption (well, I don’t think) and I am strangely thankful that Kaiya’s birthmom decided to keep her, so that Autumn could come and bless our lives.

The talk this morning reminded me that making the decision to adopt is a truly, in every sense of the word, life changing decision. It is one that can come with heartache but also love beyond words. We are some of the few that made the choice to adopt, and I am thankful for every step it has, and is, taking us to get there.

It’s strange how looking back right now, I feel better about the future. For all of us, that time made us, US, and I wouldn’t want it to look any different than it does at this very moment.


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