Bright Spots & Dark Pieces

No pregnancy announcements

No weird cravings

No feeling a baby's little kick

No maternity clothes 

No doctors appointments

No ultrasounds or sonograms 

No gender reveals 

No due dates

No strangers in the store asking when I'm due 

No morning sickness 

No Lamaze classes 

No " belly bump" pictures 

No birth plan 

No labor and delivery....

Today I stared at these Black Eyed Susans in my yard and I couldn't help but notice their conflict. I was struck by how the brilliant color contrasted with the deep darkness. I realized I understood the tension between the yellow petals & their black center because it mirrored how I have been feeling lately. I know what it's like to be made up of both parts, to have bright pops of color & a darkness that can't be ignored. 

Everyone in my life is so excited for me as we work towards our adoption. But here I sit, a dark blot amidst their yellow joy. My heart is still sad. I'm still feeling the loss of a dream, I'm still struggling to be okay with this road I'm on. I try so hard every day not to compare this journey to that of my pregnant friends' - but I fail. Sometimes (most times) my jealousy rears its ugly head & the negative thoughts overwhelm me. Everything I'm not experiencing lists itself over and over in my head. It's so hard to feel excitement when it doesn't even feel real and the only thing that does feel real is the work. Phone calls, paperwork, fundraising - none of these things ever played a part in my daydreams as I fantasized about my future family. But they are my reality. I want to feel tired because I'm growing a baby, instead I'm tired because I just worked a 3 day yard sale to make 1/40 of the money I need to afford my baby. I want people to be asking when I'm due and what I'm having, but no one even knows I'm expecting unless I somehow bring it up. And when I do bring it up, I don't have anything worthwhile to say other than "I have loads of paperwork to do & lots of money to raise!" No due date. No trimester. No answers. 

I'm not trying to sound all "woe is me" here, I just am being honest with myself about these ugly feelings I'm having. We finished the yard sale fundraiser last week and it was a huge triumph. I was so glad it raised the amount that it did. I was so thankful to everyone who helped. And yet I was so, so, so miserable at the end of it. But why?! Why wasn't I rejoicing?? Why wasn't I partaking in the victory?? I'd spent three long days working my butt off, selling every item I could, trying to raise every penny available for my baby and it had worked! So why did I feel so defeated? And then it hit me. While the yard sale was a huge success for the adoption, it was also a huge reminder that if I could've gotten pregnant I wouldn't have to do any of this. 

I think there's a misconception out there that the moment you start down the road to adoption you instantly feel certain things. At least I thought I would. I thought making the choice to adopt would pacify the pain of never getting pregnant. That a new excitement, a pregnant expectation would fill the void and it would feel like I was with child, just without the physical changes. And who knows, maybe when the adoption grows closer those feelings will blossom. But we are still very far away and I am still very much struggling with a deep, ever-present sadness. I hate admitting that. It makes me feel like I am failing. I want to be shouting about how I feel ecstatic that God chose me for this awesome ministry opportunity. I want to be proclaiming how joyful I am to see the amazing story He is writing unfold. Don't get me wrong, I am joyful. But that joy is partnered with sadness. I'm learning I can feel both and that it's okay. It doesn't make me a bad mother for my future adopted children. In fact I think it prepares me more for them. Because guess what? They are going to grow through the experience of being joyful and sad about their adoption story too. They'll experience joyfulness when they think about how God blessed them with loving parents who cherish & adore them. But they'll also experience deep sadness for the loss of their birth parents and the heartache that being "given up" will cause. 

Adoption is very much a beauty from ashes kind of tale. It's got bright spots & dark pieces. Both are important, both are crucial parts of the story. Neither part has to be ignored. Take the Black Eyed Susan for example. Would her yellow petals pop so beautifully if they didn't have the black middle to contrast with? Would I feel the magnitude of the joy that is to come if there wasn't some sadness to wade through on my way? 

As always, thanks for reading my random thoughts. I am always processing & experiencing new parts of this epic marathon called adoption. I don't know if I'm doing it correctly but hey - I'm doing it. 

~ Jes