The Single Most Moments

The last two weeks, like the weeks before, have been a rollercoaster.  It seems that just when good news, or any news at all of movement, reaches our ears news of a new possible obstacle comes into the other ear. I told the good man that I feel like mountains are sprouting up all around us. And in the moments of no new obstacles, no new mountains there is silence. I am emailing a brick wall.

But before we get into all the mess and aggravation of this journey…lets rejoice over the wonder and miracle and the beauty and the best week of our lives thus far.

. : The First Visit : .

Two weeks ago, on the late evening of February 17th, we packed up the car and headed south on mostly vacant winter roads. We are forever grateful for Bean and her husband Eric for the great distraction they offered us over the weekend before we made the trek south. Eric and Bean came down for a visit, their first getaway since starting their new life together. We had a wonderful time playing games, eating good food, and being distracted from the impending visit.  I know that without this weekend of fun and family  the good man and I would have been complete wrecks, just waiting with each other and nothing to do.

So there we were, just the two of us, headed into the dark and unknown. We’ve been here on this road before, headed to Colorado, back to school, a new chapter. But this, this was different. This was like nothing else. Driving down to meet our little girl for the first time -- completely herself grown and personality formed away and separate from us! And how many parents can say they've taken this trip? We passed truckers and families traveling, people going to work…and I couldn't help but think, How many times have I traveled this road? Hundreds. And have we ever passed a couple making the same pilgrimage? God forgive me for not seeing them. For not offering them a cup of coffee. If nothing else, this journey has taught me you never know. You never know the story of the person in the car beside you. And to offer grace, shovel grace, to be kind because your everyday could be their life changing day.

As morning broke my heart skipped beats again and again. The sun had never looked so bright. The air had never smelled quite so fresh. Newness. We could feel the change in the air, the very tilting of the earth. We entered the city, her hometown. This was a day to remember. And as we ordered our breakfast, I wondered how the people around me were going about their day like nothing amazing, life changing, magnificent was happening today?? And how many times have I gone about my day like any other while that particular day change the course of life for another? How little we think of those around us. How blind am I?

After a trip to the mall, a drive around town, and lunch, we finally checked into our room with enough time for me to run a brush through my hair, change my shirt, and put on deodorant. If there had been time to be upset, I would have been Momzilla. This was not the plan, to meet our little girl without a shower, fresh makeup, and a clean face. But no, there wasn't time to get ready or to get mad. We were clicking in our seat belts and headed toward

The Single Most Defining Moment of Our Lives.

We found the DHS office where our first visit would take place. We took deep breaths together before walking  up the sidewalk. The good man grabbed my hand tight and grounded me. I was in management mode. Managing my breathing, my walking, my every expression. Just to make sure I didn't fall apart from nerves. He opened the door and the super friendly security guard greeted us, thankful for his smile. And as we stood, shifting our feet together, the good man tapped me on the shoulder and nodded to his right. And there….right there next to me sitting backward on a chair was the most beautiful face I had ever seen. Everything in that room fell away. It sounds cheesy and cliché, but oh-so true. Perfect cuteness. Perfect dark brown hair with bouncing curls and big brown eyes. And that was it. I was undone. I was determined. I was focused. She had me for the rest of my life. With one look. My heart opened wide all the nooks and crannies, corners and hidden places. There was no turning back now. And I knew in that moment that she would be mine for the rest of my life even if this all went sideways and all we got with her was this short week. She would always be mine. i was undone with one look. 

And I had to turn away before the tears started streaming then and there in that DHS lobby. Tears of joy -- for this is the the daughter we have loved and prayed for for nearly two years, her specifically, and she is sitting next to me. Finally. Tears of sorrow and weight -- because she is so close and so far away, I can't hug her, I can't pick her little self up into my arms. She doesn't even know who I am. Yet. He grabbed my hand again and squeezed strength into my soul. And as we sat down to wait the good man whispered our hearts' prayer into my ear. We were crying out to the Father together in that room.

Our names were called and I put face to the voice who called on the phone for weeks and weeks. The social worker and I was shaking. This is the moment. She took us into a room with a window to look into the room with HER. And we will call her Sweet Girl. The social worker talked about her and told us what would happen. And I choked back tears. This moment. The moment we meet our daughter. This only happens once. And finally, FINALLY, we are here. We walked around the corner and walked into the room. The first word I said to her, our little sweet girl, was "Hi." And the first word she said to me was "Two." She was two years old. We read books and the good man made her giggle with monkey noises. She traced my hand with pen and paper and we made it into a turkey. We played with a ball and colored pictures. And it was the most magical two hours of our lives together. And also the most awkward first meeting of our child we could have never imagined. We left for the hotel and were floating.

Over the next few days we would spend a total of 20 hours with our sweet girl and loved every minute. We played at the park, flew a kite, played with bubbles, fed some geese, played at the PlayPlace, went to the hotel to read every book we brought in less than 30 minutes. (The good man finally agrees we need more books, to which I replied, "You can never have too many books!") We played with playdough, colored a birdhouse, read more books, went bowling, played at the park more, took a nap (She cuddled up to me and fell right asleep at the hotel and my heart melted!). We also went to the Science Museum, the library, and ate at the most amazing cupcake shop in the world.

We were told she is a little uneasy about men. So the fact that she runs to the good man, lets him pick her up, giggles with him, and likes to play games with him at the park is a good sign for us.

And how can I explain to you how this has changed me? Changed me, yes, and still not quite. At peace. Brought out something within me that I never knew existed. Finally knowing and understanding what it is to be content. With this girl laughing and smiling and giggling in my arms I have felt . :completely myself: . I did not know it was possible to feel this way. Not to say that this completes me, that she fixes what was broken or hurt, that she makes we whole because that is not her job. She has no job. And also not to say that my life with the good man had been incomplete or less. Just that…I know now that motherhood is my life's calling, this is my purpose. This is what God has made me to do. And to be doing what you were made to do…there is no better feeling. I didn't care that my hair was messy, that I was smiling like a fool. I didn't care what others thought of me, if I was being too goofy or silly. I wasn’t trying or forcing it, I didn't feel awkward or uncertain. And maybe I was just to full of joy to remember those parts. I don't care. And I know that motherhood is not all giggles and smiles. But in these moments, I felt whole, content, at peace, knowing. To be doing what you were called to do, purposed to do, there is no better feeling.

And the single most heartbreaking moment finally, inevitably, came.

We dropped her off with her foster father for the last time that week. She hugged us goodbye and we took the most difficult steps of our lives. We turned away, walked away, and drove away. Drove home without our daughter. My heart was bleeding every mile. We got home to our home, unbelievably empty and impossibly quiet. And it was as if the last week was a dream. We had to talk about her to make it real, real in this world we live in day to day and not just real in her world, in her town. We had to talk about her even though every word tore at my soul. Every word a tear fell and I just could not believe that we had left her, that we came home without her. Home is not home anymore. Not without her. I know we had to but I just can't believe this page of the story.

And now…we are counting the days, the hours, until we see her again. In two short and impossibly long weeks I will see her most beautiful face again. And sadly, the good man will stay home to work. And I will again hold her and smile with her and play with her and read with her and say goodbye to her and drive away home. And my heart will bleed with every mile.

We know that just as God has placed her in our lives almost two years ago, with the first phone call, that he had not kept her in our lives only to have her leave us forever. We know that he will work it all out, in his time and his way. We trust that she will one day be riding home with us. And home will be home again with her. We know and believe this. But we do need your prayers. There are many details that need to be worked out, many people involved -- and not all are helpful. I have not talked to the social worker in the last two weeks, since the visit, which is a little disconcerting. I have basically been emailing into the void about questions and concerns and updates. We're trying to make final plans for the next visit at the end of the month, or at least I am, because no one is responding to me. Maybe this is a lesson in trust and surrender. So I am learning to trust and believe that God is working out all the details behind the scenes, working in hearts and minds, softening hearts, and working out the paperwork, the details. And I may not see it, but I can know he is active and faithful.

And if, IF, bringing her home is not His plan, because I do not know his infinite ways, I know we will see her again. Somewhere, somehow and I will tell her I had loved her from the start, and she had me with one look. 

I can't tell you specifics, but please pray for every step of this process, for everyone involved -- social workers, the foster parents, judges, for this sweet girl, and for us. Pray that the family is blessed and that God would work in their lives, that this little one would be protected and grow stronger each day, that she would remember me and all that we did. That she would adjust well to this new transition and be protected from anything negative from this new situation. Pray for us, that we would have faith, trust in the Father to work out the details, that we would be able to find and see the joy given on this journey.  Pray also that God would work financially. We are cutting into our post-placement money raised to work out these cross country visits. It's a little worrisome, but I know that He will provide more than we need, when we need it, just as He has before. And pray too that the Lord would prepare us and equip us for the chapters that lie ahead. That we would be grateful and praise Him for whatever He brings and gives, knowing all is in His grace.