2 weeks ago I was diagnosed with melanoma. I had noticed a spot on my arm, the size of a pencil eraser that was raised with an uneven border and a bit of a reddish coloring to it. For 2 months I did nothing. I eventually scheduled an appointment with my dermatologist and he did his exam, not seeing anything remarkable. Thankfully, he checked the spot I was concerned about and biopsied it. A week later, he called to tell me I had melanoma, and that was all the information he gave me, other than to say he was sending it on for a second opinion and would call me in another week to tell me more.
The only experience I really had of melanoma, per say, was a dear friend who was diagnosed with melanoma and died 3 weeks later. Melanoma is such a fast moving, sneaky cancer, that if left untreated can be fatal quickly.
I shook and cried as I called Husband to tell him. He cried with me. It was like life stopped moving for us. And it kept on moving for everyone else. I was school shopping with Little Miss at the time and I had to continue shopping, wondering if it was the last time I'd be able to do that with her. That was a terrible feeling.
The times I struggled the most, as the days ticked by, were when I thought about missing my children. All 4 of our children are under the age of 11. So much of life is still in front of them. So many formative years. I didn't want to miss them for my sake. I didn't want them to miss me, for their sakes. I don't think I'm an awesome mom or anything, but I believe it is ingrained in every child to want a mom to love them because a mom loves like no one else can.
Somehow, at the same time, I felt so ready. I imagined a life void of depression, anxiety and mysophonia. Void of worrying about the next shoe to drop. Void of the pain that comes with our fallen world. Thinking of that - the relief from those things - gave me so much comfort. Knowing that I was going to get to the end of the race, holding the hand of Christ, and knowing my children were safe and cared for, provided such a feeling of peace and joy that I was surprised by it.
Later that week, the doctor called to say that it was melanoma in situ, meaning that it was contained and superficial. I felt like I had worried for nothing, but I was still worried, for some reason. He told me I would need to see the surgeon for an excision so it didn't become invasive. On Monday I went to the surgeon who said that the dermatologist had been wrong. It was indeed invasive and would need to be biopsied again to see what stage it actually was at.
4 more days we waited, until today, when she called to say that the margins were clear. The melanoma was gone. And that I would just need to have a wider excision, just to be on the safe side. That is yet to be scheduled.
I cried when I got off the phone with her. A wave of emotions have been hitting me over the course of the day. Strangely enough, the biggest emotion I primarily felt was disappointment. Disappointment that the thoughts that had brought me peace were not going to become reality.
Everyone laughs at me and points at my pessimism when I say that I have always expected to die young. Since I was a little girl, I have had that in my head. Unfortunately, baking myself in the sun was something I didn't really think would have an impact on that thought when I was a teenager. I went to tanning beds at least 40 times and got burnt on a regular basis, even to the point of sun poisoning once.
So when I learned I had melanoma, I didn't blame it on God, despite the fact that that is my usual, knee-jerk response. My overall thought was, "Okay, God. Let's do this." I knew He would walk beside me and I knew He didn't cause it.
Over the course of the last several years I have learned that I can't really cling to anything here because everything that I can see and touch is temporary. Everything is broken and in it's own pain and sometimes I am just on my own with God. The prospect of dying highlighted that reality even more these last couple of weeks. No one else can feel the feelings I feel, think the things I think or really understand what I'm experiencing because they just aren't me. And because of that, I have to rely on Him.
I don't understand what will happen next, what He desires of me, except to wake up each morning and ask Him. I am so grateful to know, in a new and different way, that comfort and peace do come from Him and the comfort of eternity gives joy.
I don't want to have cancer. This was caught at stage 1. It could come back. It could arrive somewhere else. My risk was high anyway - now it is higher. So, we may face this again, but now I know that the hope of eternity will be with it.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Mysophonia
I feel a huge sense of shame and guilt in writing this post because I feel like I KNOW what you are going to think.
I deal with a sound sensitivity issue called mysophonia. For those of you who don't know what it is, probably basically everyone, it is basically a hatred of sound. It is a genetic thing and is a hatred of particular sounds, mostly repetitive and uncontrollable - clicking pens, people chewing with their mouths open, etc. All those little things that people find annoying create a sense of panic in me at times. It manifests itself in a way so that it becomes the center of attention of life and can drive the person it effects into solitude and isolation in order to avoid certain sounds.
The first home we lived in was across from a gun club. Husband told me I'd get used to the noise. Hahaha. I sought counseling to be able to live in that house, after a time. Most counselors have no idea what mysophonia is. Most of them told me to wear earplugs, which is the WAY WRONG answer. I finally talked to an audiologist in Ithaca, NY and she understood what I was going through, tested my hearing, etc. Turns out I have hearing better than a kid. I could hear EVERYTHING she tested on me. Her equipment couldn't go any further down to see how well I can really hear. While that is awesome, it doesn't help with this issue. :)
When we came to look at the house we currently live in, I knew there was a highway .25 miles away. I could hear it and it didn't bother me. When I was growing up, I'd stay with my great grandmother from time to time and hearing the cars go past her house was a great comfort to me. I said it wouldn't bother me. Ummm. I was wrong. I made it through the first year without it bothering me and then one day, the highway was crazy loud and the switch flipped and I could no longer tolerate hearing it. It is the strangest thing. I KNOW it can't hurt me. I KNOW it is only a sound. But those sounds trigger a fight or flight response in me. That is really what it feels like. You know when someone comes around the corner and scares the heck out of you? It's like feeling that way all the time.
At first, I did all kinds of things to avoid the sound, including setting up fans all over the place, but after seeing the audiologist, I had to turn off all the fans and try to deal. It has gotten MUCH better. If I'm having a rough day, for any reason, it is usually harder to deal with again, but I can be in the house and it's okay. Going outside is a completely different animal, though.
Because of the way this makes me feel, and the reaction I have to that feeling, I have not gone outside to sit on the porch, play with the kids, or garden for 3 years. There have been times, intermittently when I have, and it was tough.
Our house is 3200 square feet with a 1600 square foot basement. And we have stuff everywhere!! Since starting the business I have not been able to keep up with it. It is completely overwhelming to me, even with Justin and the kids helping. It's just SO BIG.
The summer after we bought this house I asked many times what in the world we had been thinking. At one point, we had a little house in town that was 1800 square feet and it was wonderful! I kept up with it - easily - and we spent so much time together as a family because we didn't have to maintain anything!! It takes me 5 hours to mow our lawn now, and that's just one aspect of having this particular house.
Now, don't get me wrong, there are so many things I LOVE about this house! We have room for everyone and their mother to come and hang out with us, if they want to. We have granite countertops, which are A.MAZ.ING. We have Jack and Jill bathrooms for the kids. A gynormous master suite. And who wouldn't want a geothermal system?!
But, I want to have a life and memories, not a house.
Here comes the part that I feel quilty about.
Last summer when I was in Haiti, I was miserable. It was loud ALL.THE.TIME. Little Guy cried the entire time, it felt like. It was 135 degrees. Miserable. And I still didn't want to come home. I knew that when I came home, I'd just be back to dealing with the sound again (I know it sounds crazy.). I didn't think I could handle feeling trapped again.
So, Husband and I started keeping our eyes open for another house. We decided if something came up, that we loved, we would see if we could buy it. But, it needed to be the right house. The market is really low and has been while we've been looking again. We did look at several houses, but none of them felt right, so we've stayed put.
About a month ago, a house came on the market - 3 bedrooms, very split up, postage stamp kitchen, cathedral ceilings, fireplace, 30 acres with a beautiful ravine and creek. It was built in the 70s, so it's dated, but very doable for the business and our family. There were just so many things about this house that we thought we would all love. On Saturday we made an offer. I was handling the highway better simply because I felt like I was going to have a way out. It's strange because if I went to your house and you had the highway, I doubt I would care. Because I can leave. I have "control". Here, I can't leave, which gives way to the fight or flight and feeling trapped emotions.
Our offer was very fair, but it was quick. We asked to close in 45 days so we could move before our little guy came home. I don't want to move after he comes home because he is going to need the strongest sense of safety and stability we can give him. Moving does not lend itself to stability and calmness. :)
They rejected our offer completely. Well, they said they'd drop the price $2000. And they'd close July 15 instead of June 9. Oh, and they don't want the sale to be contingent on the house appraising.
It doesn't get more rejecting that that other than a flat "no".
So, yesterday put me back into a tizzy. I had begun to hope that maybe God didn't want me to feel trapped and it was okay to move, okay to look forward to something different. I have felt guilty even feeling that way because I don't deserve anything! My word, what I have compared to most people, is amazing! I'm not looking for more or better stuff - just peace. But, I still feel guilty asking.
After all this adoption stuff, finally giving it over to Him and trusting Him in it, you'd think I could handle this. Nope. It sounds so stupid to write it out, but it is honest.
Here is why I'm telling you ALL this. I would love your prayers as it comes to this housing situation. I need them. I may be more worried about this than I am about the adoption at this point. Yep. I definitely am.
I kept reminding myself all day yesterday that feelings are feelings! They are temporary and they change on a dime, sometimes. It was okay to be disappointed and ask God questions (I hope). As I was going to the grocery store, I thought of the verse that talks about His mercies being new every morning. And, I began to look forward to this morning, knowing that He will still be there, no matter what I am struggling with, what I am asking about, what I don't get at all. Man, I am so thankful He is that kind of God.
I deal with a sound sensitivity issue called mysophonia. For those of you who don't know what it is, probably basically everyone, it is basically a hatred of sound. It is a genetic thing and is a hatred of particular sounds, mostly repetitive and uncontrollable - clicking pens, people chewing with their mouths open, etc. All those little things that people find annoying create a sense of panic in me at times. It manifests itself in a way so that it becomes the center of attention of life and can drive the person it effects into solitude and isolation in order to avoid certain sounds.
The first home we lived in was across from a gun club. Husband told me I'd get used to the noise. Hahaha. I sought counseling to be able to live in that house, after a time. Most counselors have no idea what mysophonia is. Most of them told me to wear earplugs, which is the WAY WRONG answer. I finally talked to an audiologist in Ithaca, NY and she understood what I was going through, tested my hearing, etc. Turns out I have hearing better than a kid. I could hear EVERYTHING she tested on me. Her equipment couldn't go any further down to see how well I can really hear. While that is awesome, it doesn't help with this issue. :)
When we came to look at the house we currently live in, I knew there was a highway .25 miles away. I could hear it and it didn't bother me. When I was growing up, I'd stay with my great grandmother from time to time and hearing the cars go past her house was a great comfort to me. I said it wouldn't bother me. Ummm. I was wrong. I made it through the first year without it bothering me and then one day, the highway was crazy loud and the switch flipped and I could no longer tolerate hearing it. It is the strangest thing. I KNOW it can't hurt me. I KNOW it is only a sound. But those sounds trigger a fight or flight response in me. That is really what it feels like. You know when someone comes around the corner and scares the heck out of you? It's like feeling that way all the time.
At first, I did all kinds of things to avoid the sound, including setting up fans all over the place, but after seeing the audiologist, I had to turn off all the fans and try to deal. It has gotten MUCH better. If I'm having a rough day, for any reason, it is usually harder to deal with again, but I can be in the house and it's okay. Going outside is a completely different animal, though.
Because of the way this makes me feel, and the reaction I have to that feeling, I have not gone outside to sit on the porch, play with the kids, or garden for 3 years. There have been times, intermittently when I have, and it was tough.
Our house is 3200 square feet with a 1600 square foot basement. And we have stuff everywhere!! Since starting the business I have not been able to keep up with it. It is completely overwhelming to me, even with Justin and the kids helping. It's just SO BIG.
The summer after we bought this house I asked many times what in the world we had been thinking. At one point, we had a little house in town that was 1800 square feet and it was wonderful! I kept up with it - easily - and we spent so much time together as a family because we didn't have to maintain anything!! It takes me 5 hours to mow our lawn now, and that's just one aspect of having this particular house.
Now, don't get me wrong, there are so many things I LOVE about this house! We have room for everyone and their mother to come and hang out with us, if they want to. We have granite countertops, which are A.MAZ.ING. We have Jack and Jill bathrooms for the kids. A gynormous master suite. And who wouldn't want a geothermal system?!
But, I want to have a life and memories, not a house.
Here comes the part that I feel quilty about.
Last summer when I was in Haiti, I was miserable. It was loud ALL.THE.TIME. Little Guy cried the entire time, it felt like. It was 135 degrees. Miserable. And I still didn't want to come home. I knew that when I came home, I'd just be back to dealing with the sound again (I know it sounds crazy.). I didn't think I could handle feeling trapped again.
So, Husband and I started keeping our eyes open for another house. We decided if something came up, that we loved, we would see if we could buy it. But, it needed to be the right house. The market is really low and has been while we've been looking again. We did look at several houses, but none of them felt right, so we've stayed put.
About a month ago, a house came on the market - 3 bedrooms, very split up, postage stamp kitchen, cathedral ceilings, fireplace, 30 acres with a beautiful ravine and creek. It was built in the 70s, so it's dated, but very doable for the business and our family. There were just so many things about this house that we thought we would all love. On Saturday we made an offer. I was handling the highway better simply because I felt like I was going to have a way out. It's strange because if I went to your house and you had the highway, I doubt I would care. Because I can leave. I have "control". Here, I can't leave, which gives way to the fight or flight and feeling trapped emotions.
Our offer was very fair, but it was quick. We asked to close in 45 days so we could move before our little guy came home. I don't want to move after he comes home because he is going to need the strongest sense of safety and stability we can give him. Moving does not lend itself to stability and calmness. :)
They rejected our offer completely. Well, they said they'd drop the price $2000. And they'd close July 15 instead of June 9. Oh, and they don't want the sale to be contingent on the house appraising.
It doesn't get more rejecting that that other than a flat "no".
So, yesterday put me back into a tizzy. I had begun to hope that maybe God didn't want me to feel trapped and it was okay to move, okay to look forward to something different. I have felt guilty even feeling that way because I don't deserve anything! My word, what I have compared to most people, is amazing! I'm not looking for more or better stuff - just peace. But, I still feel guilty asking.
After all this adoption stuff, finally giving it over to Him and trusting Him in it, you'd think I could handle this. Nope. It sounds so stupid to write it out, but it is honest.
Here is why I'm telling you ALL this. I would love your prayers as it comes to this housing situation. I need them. I may be more worried about this than I am about the adoption at this point. Yep. I definitely am.
I kept reminding myself all day yesterday that feelings are feelings! They are temporary and they change on a dime, sometimes. It was okay to be disappointed and ask God questions (I hope). As I was going to the grocery store, I thought of the verse that talks about His mercies being new every morning. And, I began to look forward to this morning, knowing that He will still be there, no matter what I am struggling with, what I am asking about, what I don't get at all. Man, I am so thankful He is that kind of God.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
On God's Faithfulness
What I really want to say is that God is faithful in the trial.
God promises to love us, with an overwhelming love, always. Constant.
He promises to be faithful to forgive us when we mess up and ask Him to forgive us.
He promises to be faithful to provide eternal life when we believe in His Son.
He is faithful. And His faithfulness is great.
That means always.
Over the past 2 1/2 years of our adoption process we have seen family after family encounter huge difficulties and obstacles. Endless waiting, it seems. Lying. Corruption. Even evil.
When relief comes, people say, "God is good! God is faithful!"
I'm here to tell you that while that is true, God is faithful ALWAYS. When you're waiting. When you run into another obstacle. When you don't know where to go. When you have messed up for the millionth time. He is faithful to be with you. He is faithful to grant peace, love, forgiveness and mercy. He is faithful to LOVE you.
That's what we really need. We don't really need to move on to the next step. We don't really need anything material. Everything we can see, touch or feel is temporal.
Maybe that's part of how we can know He is constant.
22 Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. 23 They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
God promises to love us, with an overwhelming love, always. Constant.
He promises to be faithful to forgive us when we mess up and ask Him to forgive us.
He promises to be faithful to provide eternal life when we believe in His Son.
He is faithful. And His faithfulness is great.
That means always.
Over the past 2 1/2 years of our adoption process we have seen family after family encounter huge difficulties and obstacles. Endless waiting, it seems. Lying. Corruption. Even evil.
When relief comes, people say, "God is good! God is faithful!"
I'm here to tell you that while that is true, God is faithful ALWAYS. When you're waiting. When you run into another obstacle. When you don't know where to go. When you have messed up for the millionth time. He is faithful to be with you. He is faithful to grant peace, love, forgiveness and mercy. He is faithful to LOVE you.
That's what we really need. We don't really need to move on to the next step. We don't really need anything material. Everything we can see, touch or feel is temporal.
Maybe that's part of how we can know He is constant.
22 Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. 23 They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Save 1 With Every Run 2013 Conclusion and What I've Learned From Running
The goal was 100 runs and 100 prayers. One prayer for every run - for freedom from trafficking and a life of slavery and forced prostitution for a child.
What I thought was going to be a solitary goal turned into a community goal. The response I received when I announced my goal, and those who wanted to join in, was so beautiful to me. People wanted to use their time running to pray for those who can't run because they don't have the freedom to.
What I hoped would be 100 prayers turned into 1229 prayers. 1229!! That is amazing!!
I believe with all my heart that God has honored or will honor those prayers. That He will set one free for every run and every prayer prayed.
I have been privileged to see our Save 1 runners post the experiences they have had this past year while participating in this campaign. Some have felt God's presence in new and wonderful ways. Others have rejoiced in reading news articles of freedom and healing from trafficking. It has been amazing.
2013 was the first full year I ran. I have learned so much through the experience of running. It has come to symbolize the most joyous and frustrating times and processes in my life.
Feeling the daunting, "there is no way I'm going to get through this" feeling of climbing a hill when I just would rather lay down on the road and take a nap. The excitement of wondering what is over the next hill in new and unfamiliar, yet beautiful territory. The misery of feeling like I'm behind and that everyone else is running faster or further than me. The contentment of not caring anymore, but just enjoying being outside and the goals God has set for me; not worrying about other goals that others may or may not set for me. And the feeling of absolute victory for accomplishing a new goal - running just a bit further or faster than before - or simply being content with the run no matter what my "stats" were.
I have found my play list to be more than ironic at times. Like the times I've been climbing a hill and the lyrics of a song came up that say, "Just ask the hill to move and it will move." I'm here to tell you I have faith smaller than a mustard seed because that hill did not move. It remains where it is no matter how many times I hear that song while climbing up it and no matter how many times I declare it to move. Other ironic lyrics when trying to run include, "I just want to slow down" (thank you Third Day) or "stop running" (Kerry Roberts).
This past year has been such a gift to me. The time spent in praise of God, as I listen to music has been new for me. I am so grateful for that. I believe that through this experience, He has given me an opportunity to learn more about life and how it works and what He is able to do through me in it, if I keep pressing on.
I think this is what it means when He says that He will give beyond our sacrifice. Running isn't a lot of a sacrifice, really, but there were LOTS of days (almost every one), that I didn't want to go out for one reason or another. But, I went because I wanted to pray for one more girl. I believe He heard those prayers and not only answered them, but spent that time running alongside me, teaching me and filling me in unexpected ways. That is the blessing I didn't anticipate.
So, I'm thankful. Thank you to all of you who joined me in this campaign this year. I don't have a set goal in 2014 except to keep running. I hope Save 1 With Every Run continues and I hope you'll join me. Here's where you can find more info if you're interested.
Here's to freedom in 2014 - and so many thanks for all those wonderful 1229 prayers that were prayed in 2013.
**Very special thanks to the talented Christie Lee for her beautiful work designing our logo. Thank you, Christie!!
Thursday, May 23, 2013
The Letter of Persuasion
We have a prayer list that we update, as a family, every week. We started doing this almost 2 months ago.
We entered IBESR, Haiti's social services department, with our adoption dossier on September 14. And we've been waiting for an update since.
We have been praying to get out of IBESR since we started our list (and the months before that, too). This week we changed that request and started praying that President Martelly (the President of Haiti) would sign our paperwork because there wasn't any way we were going to get out of IBESR without that. You see, we need presidential dispensation (permission) to adopt our Little Guy because we have biological children.
Yesterday I stopped in at our kiddos' school and talked to Girly Girl's teacher. She said, "Oh, I need to show you something! You are going to cry."
I'm not a real softie and already putting my disclaimer out so she wouldn't think I was a bad mom, said, "I don't cry easily."
She told me that in class, the kids have been writing persuasion letters. They had to pick something they wanted and then determine how to ask for that thing and who needed to be asked.
She started reading.....
"Dear President of Haiti,
Please sign our adoption papers. My little brother really needs to be out of the orphanage and come home to us. He needs more space to run and play. And my big brother has wanted a little brother for such a long time. We have been praying for a very long time. Will you please sign our papers?"
I cried. And so did the teacher. She told me that originally Girly Girl had addressed the letter to the Director of IBESR, but went in on Monday to tell her that she had to change it to President Martelly.
Our kids have been in this with us from the beginning. They have been praying along side us for over a year now, since before we officially started the process of adoption. The last few weeks in church they have been learning about waiting and have shared that with us. That God is faithful in the wait.
I went home and one of the first things I do is check my email. I checked it and there was an email from our agency with the subject line, "IBESR".
I opened it up and it said,
"CONGRATULATIONS—today we got word that your dossier was released from IBESR!"
Our cat likes to greet us when we come in the door and was the only living thing with me when I saw that email. I just screamed at the computer and started jumping up and down. And she took off running, claws scraping the floor. I terrified her. :)
I called the school and asked for Girly Girl's teacher. I told her we had gotten out of IBESR and asked her if we could come in and tell Girly Girl at school with her. She excitedly agreed.
We went in and met the teacher and she took us to Girly Girl's last class. I thought she was going to pull her into the hallway, but she asked us to come in. Girly Girl had no idea what was going on.
I knelt down and told her that I had seen her beautiful letter to the President of Haiti and how proud I was of her for writing it. And I said, "I just want to show you want his signature looks like." I showed her the paper we had been given and told her that our papers were out. We are out!!!
She started crying. Big old crocodile tears. The teachers were crying. We were crying. And her fellow classmates were nervous. "Why is she crying??"
"Happy tears", her teacher said. "Happy tears." So happy.
We left and grabbed the other two kiddos, who Girly Girl told right away. :) We were able to share the news with their teachers and our small group who know just about as much about this process as we do now and we went out for ice cream to celebrate.
It was just so wonderful.
We are so very thankful to be out of this step!! The next step will last anywhere from several weeks to several months. At the end of that, our little guy will be officially a member of our family in Haiti. I am so excited for that day.
But, right now, I am so joyful. I'm joyful because this has given us hope. We feel encouraged and like we've been given new life for this process. We are so excited to share this with all of you who are with us in this journey, praying, watching and supporting. We have needed that so many times in the last 8 months and will continue to need it in the months to come.
We are hopeful that our Little Guy will be home with us sometime in the next year. It could be longer. It could be shorter. We just need to keep waiting.
So, eat some ice cream in celebration with us tonight! :)
Love to you all,
Karyn
We entered IBESR, Haiti's social services department, with our adoption dossier on September 14. And we've been waiting for an update since.
We have been praying to get out of IBESR since we started our list (and the months before that, too). This week we changed that request and started praying that President Martelly (the President of Haiti) would sign our paperwork because there wasn't any way we were going to get out of IBESR without that. You see, we need presidential dispensation (permission) to adopt our Little Guy because we have biological children.
Yesterday I stopped in at our kiddos' school and talked to Girly Girl's teacher. She said, "Oh, I need to show you something! You are going to cry."
I'm not a real softie and already putting my disclaimer out so she wouldn't think I was a bad mom, said, "I don't cry easily."
She told me that in class, the kids have been writing persuasion letters. They had to pick something they wanted and then determine how to ask for that thing and who needed to be asked.
She started reading.....
"Dear President of Haiti,
Please sign our adoption papers. My little brother really needs to be out of the orphanage and come home to us. He needs more space to run and play. And my big brother has wanted a little brother for such a long time. We have been praying for a very long time. Will you please sign our papers?"
I cried. And so did the teacher. She told me that originally Girly Girl had addressed the letter to the Director of IBESR, but went in on Monday to tell her that she had to change it to President Martelly.
Our kids have been in this with us from the beginning. They have been praying along side us for over a year now, since before we officially started the process of adoption. The last few weeks in church they have been learning about waiting and have shared that with us. That God is faithful in the wait.
I went home and one of the first things I do is check my email. I checked it and there was an email from our agency with the subject line, "IBESR".
I opened it up and it said,
"CONGRATULATIONS—today we got word that your dossier was released from IBESR!"
Our cat likes to greet us when we come in the door and was the only living thing with me when I saw that email. I just screamed at the computer and started jumping up and down. And she took off running, claws scraping the floor. I terrified her. :)
I called the school and asked for Girly Girl's teacher. I told her we had gotten out of IBESR and asked her if we could come in and tell Girly Girl at school with her. She excitedly agreed.
We went in and met the teacher and she took us to Girly Girl's last class. I thought she was going to pull her into the hallway, but she asked us to come in. Girly Girl had no idea what was going on.
I knelt down and told her that I had seen her beautiful letter to the President of Haiti and how proud I was of her for writing it. And I said, "I just want to show you want his signature looks like." I showed her the paper we had been given and told her that our papers were out. We are out!!!
She started crying. Big old crocodile tears. The teachers were crying. We were crying. And her fellow classmates were nervous. "Why is she crying??"
"Happy tears", her teacher said. "Happy tears." So happy.
We left and grabbed the other two kiddos, who Girly Girl told right away. :) We were able to share the news with their teachers and our small group who know just about as much about this process as we do now and we went out for ice cream to celebrate.
It was just so wonderful.
We are so very thankful to be out of this step!! The next step will last anywhere from several weeks to several months. At the end of that, our little guy will be officially a member of our family in Haiti. I am so excited for that day.
But, right now, I am so joyful. I'm joyful because this has given us hope. We feel encouraged and like we've been given new life for this process. We are so excited to share this with all of you who are with us in this journey, praying, watching and supporting. We have needed that so many times in the last 8 months and will continue to need it in the months to come.
We are hopeful that our Little Guy will be home with us sometime in the next year. It could be longer. It could be shorter. We just need to keep waiting.
So, eat some ice cream in celebration with us tonight! :)
Love to you all,
Karyn
Monday, April 15, 2013
7 Months
7 months. It really isn't that long, but tonight it feels like an eternity.
My mind is filled with question marks tonight.
There seem to be many people around us in a holding pattern - not really knowing what God is doing, what His plan is or even what is next. There is a glimmer of what the future might hold but no time frame whatsoever.
We're with them.
Yesterday was 7 months that we've been in IBESR. Families that went in to that step before us are out. Families that went in the same day as us are out. Families that went in after us are out. But, we're still there. And we have no idea how long we are going to be there.
I'm incredibly discouraged tonight and would very much appreciate your prayers.
Our little guy has an important meeting this week. I have to be vague there, but please be praying for him (and us) this week.
Thank you, friends.
My mind is filled with question marks tonight.
There seem to be many people around us in a holding pattern - not really knowing what God is doing, what His plan is or even what is next. There is a glimmer of what the future might hold but no time frame whatsoever.
We're with them.
Yesterday was 7 months that we've been in IBESR. Families that went in to that step before us are out. Families that went in the same day as us are out. Families that went in after us are out. But, we're still there. And we have no idea how long we are going to be there.
I'm incredibly discouraged tonight and would very much appreciate your prayers.
Our little guy has an important meeting this week. I have to be vague there, but please be praying for him (and us) this week.
Thank you, friends.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
As Long As It's Not Haiti
It's funny how you end up doing things you said you'd never do.
When we started considering adoption, I very much wanted to adopt from Haiti. It was the only country I felt led toward adopting from.
But, then I began to learn about how painful it is to adopt from Haiti. How it takes, on average, 2.5 years to complete the process, how most of the children have birth parents who are alive and simply can't provide for them, and how difficult the process is because of lack of communication and other issues third world countries experience. And I made the decision we would not adopt from Haiti.
I wanted something simpler. More concrete.
It took us almost 4 months to make the decision to adopt. March 3, 2012 we decided to move forward, but we hadn't decided on where to adopt from yet. My husband had a mission trip to the Dominican Republic planned for later that month and we felt like we had to wait until after that trip to decide. We went to this website to see what countries we qualified for and we started narrowing them down. Surprisingly, there were many countries that were automatically knocked out because our family didn't meet their rules.
We narrowed it down to 6 countries - Ethiopia, Bulgaria, India, United States, Congo and China. And we decided to fast (give up something and spend concentrated time in prayer in place of that something). Handsome fasted American food while he was in the DR. I fasted dessert. It was painful. :)
During his trip to the DR, Husband met a sweet boy who had been abandoned by his mother, in a Haitian refugee camp. We longed to adopt him and started doing our research. We quickly learned, however, that it was completely impossible to adopt him. We were heartbroken.
Through that experience and what we learned in it, we decided to eliminate all countries except Congo. And we added in Haiti.
I kept pushing for Congo. I searched and searched for blogs for people who had adopted from the Congo. We couldn't find anyone who would answer our emails. We couldn't join any forums. It was just impossible to find information. We called a couple of agencies, but you know when people tell you things in one conversation and then say something different in other conversations? Well....that.
After a couple of weeks of indecisiveness, we decided to fast again.
A year ago today, I was sitting at my desk in our office and Husband came in from work, looked at me and said, simply, "Haiti."
Haiti.
April 4, 2012 it was decided. Since then, we have been matched with a little boy in Haiti. We have met that little boy and we absolutely love him.
The reasons I didn't want to adopt from Haiti still exist. We have been in this step of our adoption (IBESR) for nearly 7 months. I thought that when we got to this part I would feel excited because we had gotten this far. Instead, it seems the longer we keep going, the longer it feels like it's going to take. But, I am grateful we are adopting from Haiti and I'm finding beauty in it, even though I'm living through the very reasons I didn't want to adopt from there in the first place. And Haiti is where our Little Guy is; I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
When we started considering adoption, I very much wanted to adopt from Haiti. It was the only country I felt led toward adopting from.
But, then I began to learn about how painful it is to adopt from Haiti. How it takes, on average, 2.5 years to complete the process, how most of the children have birth parents who are alive and simply can't provide for them, and how difficult the process is because of lack of communication and other issues third world countries experience. And I made the decision we would not adopt from Haiti.
I wanted something simpler. More concrete.
It took us almost 4 months to make the decision to adopt. March 3, 2012 we decided to move forward, but we hadn't decided on where to adopt from yet. My husband had a mission trip to the Dominican Republic planned for later that month and we felt like we had to wait until after that trip to decide. We went to this website to see what countries we qualified for and we started narrowing them down. Surprisingly, there were many countries that were automatically knocked out because our family didn't meet their rules.
We narrowed it down to 6 countries - Ethiopia, Bulgaria, India, United States, Congo and China. And we decided to fast (give up something and spend concentrated time in prayer in place of that something). Handsome fasted American food while he was in the DR. I fasted dessert. It was painful. :)
During his trip to the DR, Husband met a sweet boy who had been abandoned by his mother, in a Haitian refugee camp. We longed to adopt him and started doing our research. We quickly learned, however, that it was completely impossible to adopt him. We were heartbroken.
Through that experience and what we learned in it, we decided to eliminate all countries except Congo. And we added in Haiti.
I kept pushing for Congo. I searched and searched for blogs for people who had adopted from the Congo. We couldn't find anyone who would answer our emails. We couldn't join any forums. It was just impossible to find information. We called a couple of agencies, but you know when people tell you things in one conversation and then say something different in other conversations? Well....that.
After a couple of weeks of indecisiveness, we decided to fast again.
A year ago today, I was sitting at my desk in our office and Husband came in from work, looked at me and said, simply, "Haiti."
Haiti.
April 4, 2012 it was decided. Since then, we have been matched with a little boy in Haiti. We have met that little boy and we absolutely love him.
The reasons I didn't want to adopt from Haiti still exist. We have been in this step of our adoption (IBESR) for nearly 7 months. I thought that when we got to this part I would feel excited because we had gotten this far. Instead, it seems the longer we keep going, the longer it feels like it's going to take. But, I am grateful we are adopting from Haiti and I'm finding beauty in it, even though I'm living through the very reasons I didn't want to adopt from there in the first place. And Haiti is where our Little Guy is; I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
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