When I published my first blog post on May
22, 2008, our file was still waiting to be sent to Ethiopia and I think the
only person reading this blog was my mom J. When I think back to that time, it seems so
far away from where we have travelled.
I’m trying to remember the reason I even
started this blog - to document milestones, maybe meet a couple other families
like us along the way, to share our journey with family and friends, just something
to pass the time... Regardless, I
thought my blog would be short lived; maybe a year, tops, cuz we were told that
we’d be home in no time with our little one, and my investment in this blog
would be minimal.
I was so green when we started the
international adoption process – I naively thought that since we had already
adopted domestically
and the process for Sara’s adoption was seamless that “we could easily do that again!”
I also believed everything I was told and that procedures and processes
would follow a fair and logical path...another novice mistake. Little did we know that our international
adoption would bring some of the most difficult moments (as well as joyful
moments) of our life. It was the
ultimate rollercoaster ride, with many unexpected ups and downs, and twists and
turns. We have learned firsthand that
international adoption is not for the faint of heart - it takes patience,
determination, plenty of tenacity, and a whole lot of faith to navigate through
its trenches.
We had some very dark days. Darker than I ever thought my life could ever
become. And just when I truly thought it
could not get any worse, I was sucker punched and left stunned yet again. We almost lost our boy, more than once! More
than twice!! Although my beautiful son
is now home safely and life moves forward as though nothing had ever gone wrong,
I am still healing. I think there will
always be a part of me that will be stuck inside that small, cold room, alone in
Ethiopia being told to go home because I wasn’t (and never would be) good
enough to be Seth’s mom. I knew it
wasn’t true, I didn’t have to prove that to myself or anyone close to me, but I
fought to prove that it wasn’t true so that Seth would have a chance at a
family and I would have the chance to be his mom. Regardless of the outcome (the wonderful, truly
miraculous outcome), remembering those moments will always sting and have left
a hidden scar that will likely never completely heal.
I don’t think most people realize how close
we were to losing Seth. In fact, we DID
lose Seth, but we wouldn’t let him go that easily. We had truly exhausted every possible option
and were repeatedly told that “it does not look good”. Everyone, including us, had very little hope
left and by the end we were simply going through the
motions to be able to say that we did everything we could.
We had begun to grieve. We had begun planning our life without Seth
in it. But the plan for our family, for
me, and for Seth, was bigger than all of us, and what seemed like out of blue,
life finally found its resting place with Seth in my arms. It was a jaw-dropping miracle leaving us awed
at the humility and change of heart in humanity and the higher powers working
through all of it.
The only constant and absolute throughout
this entire process were the people who surrounded me through each and every long
day – following, leading, guiding, carrying me along the way, whatever the
moment required, someone was ALWAYS there.
One of the most unexpected and wonderfully surprising
experiences of this journey was the support I found through this blog. Strangers became invested in my family, sending
thoughts, prayers, and encouragement. As
the months moved forward and our wait seemed to move backward and our world
came crumbling down around us, this blog turned from a simple milestone marker
into so much more – it became validation, a form of therapy, support, safety,
and escape. My investment in this blog
became something I relied and depended on; it became one of the ways of coping
with everything that was falling apart around me.
Regardless of how my blogging world has
evolved over the years, I have cherished every bit of it along the way. I could literally feel the compassion,
support, and celebrations through the words, (((hugs))) and even the simplest
little happy face J.
With some bloggers, our relationships grew
beyond posts and comments into something outside the virtual world – some I
have only met once or twice through the years, others I have never met at all,
some I correspond with regularly still, others we chat occasionally now, and
with some our contact has faded but they are never far from my thoughts. Regardless of where life takes us, I hold a
connection with these fine women far beyond a blog.
I’ll admit that it was sad (but I fully
expected it) to see my blog followers taper off after our arrival home with
Seth. And I really can’t blame anyone; I
myself have admittedly done the same thing many times to fellow bloggers. I would become invested in each journey, the
ups and downs, the drama, the excitement, the joys and pain. I would hold on to each word, while lending
support and encouragement when I could.
I would celebrate, sometimes with as much enthusiasm as my own, the
referral, passing court, the visa, and the homecoming. I would stock a blog waiting for THE post
that would reveal the first glimpse of the wee babe we have all been craving to
see for so long.
The ultimate is seeing a new mom holding
her long awaited babe in her arms. All
becomes well in that moment and you can feel the peace through a simple
picture. There is a sense of relief and
satisfaction that comes with finally seeing a child home with his/her family. And a feeling like maybe I had a small part
in getting that mom through to the end, as she had done for me. That moment is my closer, an end to the
investment I had with the family, but never the end of thoughts for the family.
And with that, I think the same thing that
I have experienced with others blogs has ultimately happened to me with my
own. I don’t NEED it or depend on it anymore. Saying good-bye to this blog has not come
easily, but with much reflection, I feel it is now time to let it go. Its purpose has been accomplished. And as much as I wish “Wordless Wednesdays”
could exclusively exist and thrive as my blog, I know it cannot. This blog will be a valuable piece of our
family’s story – each and every post and comment will be filed away in our
memory box and cherished many times over through the years.
Our
first year+ home with Seth has been full of many adjustments and milestones for
everyone. For Sara, it was learning to
share her things (including mom and dad) and not being the only-child
anymore. For Seth, it was learning a
whole new language and culture and trying to find his place in his new family
and home. For us, it was focused on
helping Seth to form a strong attachment to the two new strangers in his life
that he now called mom and dad. We have
come a long way in one year; we are in awe of our wee boy, with such resilience
that he has flourished beyond our wildest expectations. Seth is a typical busy, never-stops-moving
three-year-old boy who fills our life with endless love and laughter.
I tell
my children that they grew in my heart - not under it! My children may not share any of my blood,
DNA, or family history; yet they breathe life into me every day.
In the end, this blog did exactly what I
had hoped it would do...and SO much more.
Thank you for
being part of my journey.
I
wouldn’t change one thing about this ride...
