Expecting

Two lines on a pregnancy test. Morning sickness. A growing belly, and pants that don’t fit quite like they used to. All signs that you are expecting a child. There is no hiding it, within a few months everyone will know. Pregnancy is the visible reminder of a hidden promise; a child is coming! You can be walking on the street, or sitting in a coffee shop, talking to your friends. Your body cannot hide the journey it is on, all can see that you are about to become a mom. Your body is different; you feel nauseas, your waistline increases, you get indigestion, and you start to feel butterflies that turn into miniature kicks. You know and feel the coming of your child every day.

But what if you are expecting but you are not pregnant? My husband and I are adopting a baby this year and are going through our screening process. It is an interesting journey when you are going to become a mother, but no one else can see. You look the same, you dress the same, you FEEL the same. But, you are different.

You want everyone to know what you are going through and feeling, but no one will know unless you say something about it. There is no proof, no evidence of the journey. There is no tummy to guess how far along you are, there is no 9 month time span, no due date, no physical reminder of where you are in the process. And so you are different, you are changed, but still the same.

This “expecting” has reminded me of the true meaning of faith. The Bible says faith is “the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see “ (Hebrews 11:1 NLT).

Sometimes it is hard for me to fully comprehend that I am going to be a Mom. I’m sure there is a similar feeling when you are pregnant, but at least your stomach is a reminder that your life will soon change. Other than my thoughts, hopes and desires which look forward to my child coming, nothing else is different. And yet, my faith is stronger than ever. Never before have I had to cling to faith, sure of its outcome. I cannot see evidence of my baby, but I am certain that he or she is on their way. I am confident that the child I am hoping and praying for will actually come. And so, without any proof, I am expecting…in faith.

“But hope that is seen is no hope at all. For who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently” (Romans 8: 24-25)

Now to work on the ‘patiently’ part… 

The Choice

Options; I’ve always liked them. Romantic Comedy or Action DVD? Pasta or pizza? Grey jersey or Black Fleece? I always have a decision to make on what I will choose. But more often than not, I am indecisive. Most of the options I am given are good ones. Things like trying to decide whether to be a teacher or psychologist, whether to go to England or Ireland on holiday, whether to start a family or enjoy another year of married life just the two of us. There is no option that seems better or worse; they are all good! And so you have to make a decision, not on the merit of one option or another, but on what you think will be best for you, at that time, in whichever place you are in.

And so it is with adoption. My husband and I always spoke about adopting and having biological children. When we wanted to start our family the two options were both good and it was hard to decide which would be the best choice for now.  So we went ahead and started trying for a biological child. Which led to trying, waiting, failing, trying again, for about a year. And all the time, in the back of my mind, I was thinking “should we have adopted first?”

Now, I know you shouldn’t make a deal with God, because generally he honors them. But I said to my husband (and to God), “let’s try for a biological child until December and if nothing happens then we can adopt”. Well, sure enough, by December nothing had happened. Now I’m thinking, well something might be wrong so I should go to the gynaecologist; if nothing is wrong we can keep trying, if something’s wrong then we will just adopt. So we went to the gynae and she found cysts on my ovaries, which does not mean infertility but does mean a longer or more difficult process to fall pregnant.  So I had to look at my attitude. First of all, if both options were good options, why was I resisting adopting and making deals with God? Secondly, what was holding me back from embracing adoption as our first port of call in starting a family?

And so, on a weekend away in March this year, my husband and I sat and talked and cried and prayed and made the choice. I had to realize that I had desired pregnancy for so long that I had been hesitant to give it up. Men only become fathers when their child is placed in their hands, for women it starts with the baby inside you. I had to be okay with being “pregnant” in terms of expecting a baby that would not come from me. I had to let go of the doubts and fears that muddy the waters; the little thoughts that cloud your judgment when making a choice. Will I love this child enough? Will they meet my expectations? Will I bond with them? Will race be an issue? I decided to trust in myself, my family and in God. The rest will work itself out. And so it came time to make a decision; keep going the way we were going, or make a choice to stop trying and to choose adoption.

There comes a time in your life when you have to make a choice. I don’t know what yours will be; all I know is that it will be the moment when you know your life is going to change forever. And so I have made my choice, and this is the beginning of my brand new life.

Fail

Failure. It stings. 

When we do something wrong, when we try and it doesn’t work out, when we put ourselves out there and we don’t succeed. Failure is a part of life and yet the hardest pill to swallow. Pride has such a huge part to play. We want to believe that we are able to do anything. We are told “you can do anything you set your heart on!” We believe that we could do most things if we tried. But how often do we try? We run the risk of failing, of not matching up, of not hitting the mark. Fear keeps us in our seats, keeps our hands at our sides, keeps our thoughts hidden. But every so often we find the courage and we go for it. We put ourselves out there, on a ledge, and try at something with all that we have. And more often than not, we succeed! There is a truth in pride, the truth that if you work and try it does pay off.

But, sometimes, it doesn’t. And failure happens. That moment when you know you didn’t quite do what you meant to. You stuffed up, you made a mistake, you failed. You hit the ground hard, and you bruise your backside. The idea of yourself, that proud image of the god-you is broken, and you are reminded again that you are but man and you are made up of mistakes. When you have done something wrong you can apologize, you can right it, but you know deep down that it is ‘my bad’. And that always hurts a little. But without failure we do not learn how to succeed. Without it we cannot experience humility and the knowledge that there are people that are better than us everywhere we look. A sobering, honest relieving thought. We would not learn to rely on others, not put all the weight on ourselves.

Failure hurts because we want to succeed. And how it hurts when you are trying to achieve a worthy goal. Trying to succeed, trying to fall pregnant. Every month, you try try try. You try to eat the right foods, you try to have sex at the exact right time - you try to have sex all the time (just in case, you can never try too much). You try to have faith, you try to think positive. And then you fail. And you think, “what did we do wrong?” Was it bad timing, where you not in it, did you not TRY hard enough?

When we found out I had poly cystic ovaries I felt like such a failure. All along you are trying and wondering “am I the one that is failing in this?” I was devastated to discover that there were numerous cysts in my ovaries (due to an increased level of testosterone in my ovaries) that meant my eggs were either not being released or being released too early or late. I felt like I had failed at one of my purposes as a woman, child bearing. It is not an infertility sentence, I can fall pregnant, but it would involve more work and possibly medication. And it was the main reason why after a year we had not succeeded.

There is a moment in life when you realize that you are just you, and there are better people and a bigger God out there who is so much more than you could ever be. The sobering thought that you will not always get it right, no matter how hard you try, because you are broken, fallen, sinful. But at that moment, when God comes around you, you can also feel more loved than anyone in the entire world. More special than all the others, because you were created to be you, warts and all.

Failure is an emotion, an action, a headspace that I want to inhabit. I want to be okay with not getting it right. I want to be at peace with tripping up. I want to be humble in my spirit so that when others around me are getting it right when I am wrong again and again, it’s ok. I want to celebrate in another’s achievement, and share with another’s load of grief. I want to be lifted up, not brought down.

I have come to terms with my failings. I trust God in my circumstances. I would much rather know where my weaknesses lie than live with blind spots that consume me. I am content with my body, no matter what failings I find. Because I know I serve a God that is bigger than my body, or my mistakes, or my circumstances, or my feelings. And so I walk wounded, but still standing. A failure, on the road to success.

Waiting

Waiting… we are not good at it at the best of times. In the line to pay for our shopping, sitting at a table wanting our food, awake in bed the night before Christmas.

We want what we want and we want it now.

We live in a society where delayed gratification does not suite our lifestyles. You can order something on the internet and get it the next day. Why wait when you can have it now?

But life doesn’t always work that way, especially when we wait under God’s timing. And that’s what happened to me.

My husband and I always wanted children. From the beginning of our relationship we realized we shared a passion for family and kids. We would talk for hours about the kind of family we wanted, how many children we would have, the things we would do as a family. We both went into teaching, although all the jobs we have ever done have involved interacting with children. So when we decided that we were ready to start a family we thought it would all happen so quickly. Go off birth control - get pregnant. Easy as that.

The waiting is the hardest part. You figure out your cycle, when is the best time to conceive, what you should do and not do to aid conception. And then you wait and see if your work paid off. The first month you are giddy with excitement and SURE something happened. You are petrified and excited at the same time. And then your period comes and you are sad, sure, but also a little relieved, because if you are honest maybe you would enjoy one more month just the two of you.

So another month goes by, and then another. A few words on a page, but its days and days of uncertainty, hope, and disappointment. You think, “How much longer can it last before something happens?” I mean, look around you, there are pregnant women and babies everywhere. It is natural and inevitable…isn’t it?  So you keep going. You stop drinking coffee, in faith. You don’t eat certain foods, in faith. You look at baby clothes and discuss names you like, in faith. But your womb is unfaithful.

So you start doubting God. You start questioning yourselves. Why is this happening to us? What have we done wrong? Is this punishment for some past or present sin in our lives? Do we not have enough faith?

It’s true what they say…the waiting is the hardest part.