October 22, 2015

When we were preggo this last round, we received some advice to hold on to hope.  Each ultrasound we heard a beating heart, our hope beat stronger in our chests. We called the baby Hope.  The day finally came when I miscarried. After hearing the news, I fidgeted with the crinkly paper on the examination table, watching the the hubs twist his lips to the side. We were both not quite sure how to react this time. You would think we would be pros at hearing this news. Yet somehow you don't gain this skill. The skill of hearing there is no more heart beat. If it is a skill, I really don't want to get anymore practice at it at this point. In true, Awkward Carly fashion, all I could do was make a completely inappropriate joke about losing hope.  It was so bad that my sweet doctor walked awkwardly backwards out of the exam room with an "ok then."

Sorry Dr. L! Haha I don’t do well with sad moments and just insert inappropriate humor.  (Also Dr. L is not in reference to the fictional Dr. Lahiri from The Mindy Project, although it is a pretty sweet coincidence that it is also what I call my OBGYN.)

A couple months ago we started growing restless on how we grow the D family. I dream of a big family. I want brothers and sisters for Little Man. I want the mini-van awkwardly full.

I can picture it: Climbing all up in the minivan, buckling all my busy-crazy-but-so-freakishly-adorable-children in safe, knowing we are all going to be late to school and work. The phone tucked between my chin and shoulder, talking to my sister-in-law while I work strap them down and wipe off copious amounts of snot. I complain to her for a moment about how much work it is raising these hoodlums. She rebukes me kindly, reminding me of how I prayed and longed for each child. I have this dream you see… 

I tracked my ovulation a bit more, lingered over reecesrainbow and handofhelpadoption’s waiting child list, and looked up orientations for adoption agencies. We even emailed about a specific child on a waiting list at one point and the door quickly shut. I was frustrated that growing our family takes this much thought.  I noticed the re-emerging of jealousy I have to those who get knocked up 1 or 2 months in and never have to think about these things. Never having this pressure or responsibility. Not having to to over think the ethics of fertility treatment, adoptions and process the insecurites that come with infertility. To think that some people just have themselves some sex and get pregnant. Boom. Babies. Drop the Mic. 

 I thought I had come to a point of contentment with how God grows our family but this struggle placed a spotlight on my hidden dark places and revealed that I do indeed have room to grow in my trust in him. Conviction. Thankful for it. No place for bitterness and I don't want it rooting in my heart so I was glad for the light to expose it to get it out.  I know this. But it is good to be reminded and humbled.

Can I hold onto the hope that he can do immeasurably more than I could ask or imagine? Can I choose to hope that even if the D family doesn’t grow and the answer is NO, that he is still good?

We are choosing Hope.

We are excited to announce we are adopting through the Edna Gladney Center with a domestic infant adoption. We will be waiting to be chosen (matched) with a birth mom and start walking a journey together as we wait for baby to be born and then beyond. Beyond holds hope.

At the heart of this adoption we are leaning into Hope. Not hope in an adoption but a Hope in something bigger. That his ways are better. Can you hope with us?