The Adventure Begins

I need to get all of this down now. While it’s still fresh in my memory.

Tonight in our tiny, but perfect kitchen. Our kitchen with only two cabinets, a dishwasher that doesn’t work and a very noticeable crooked floor. We realized (or discovered, uncovered, etc. I can’t really figure out the perfect word here) God’s will for our family. Which before this moment I thought was a rather crazy notion. Before this “adventure” I’d never really had a difficult decision. I had always felt like I was doing God’s will. All of my “big life” decisions were pretty easy. When I decided to leave home and go to Faulkner, I never doubted for a second it was the best choice for my Christian walk. When I decided to be a teacher at the age of three, I knew it was right. I just felt it. I tried to doubt it and fight it. To want to be something that makes more money with less hours. But I just couldn’t. God created this drive in me to teach. When I decided who to marry. No doubts. I knew he was a man of God who would strive to follow God and take me to heaven with him. No doubts, no concerns, no feelings of guilt or fear of going against God. It was always just, a feeling. A peace within my soul that what I was doing was right. I don’t often get full contentment from all my decisions. I’m an indecisive person by nature. That’s why I order the same thing at every restaurant. I have this irrational fear that if I branch out I’ll be disappointed by my decision and regret it for the rest of the week. Haunted by the meal that I chose to leave behind. What if it was better than what I ordered? Irrational I know. But I’m always second guessing. Making my pros and cons lists. Weighing my options, even on something as minor as what I’m ordering for lunch. But this is what makes this one decision different than the rest.

Tonight’s decision or realization wasn’t an easy task. It wasn’t a task we decided instantly. It was a decision too large for even my “lists” to tackle. It was a decision we’ve thought about, talked about, dreamed about, and prayed about for the better part of a year. A decision that took us months to come to. A decision that brought me closer to my husband and most importantly to God. A decision made while attempting to heat up leftovers.

We’re adopting.

In the middle of our kitchen, while Page ate cold pizza straight from the Papa Johns box, we figured it out.

Looking back it was a surreal moment. It hit me that I’d figured out what I wanted. Just came over me. I’m not a…liberal…individual for lack of a better word. I don’t think God speaks directly to us. I don’t think God says, “Turn here” and directs which road I should turn down and I don’t think I can randomly open up my Bible and magically find the perfect verse for my situation. I think he leads us, direct us. However, the Bible is very clear on man’s freedom to choose. But I know what I felt. When I told Page I wanted to adopt…When I said it out loud for the first time, I just knew. I felt a peace that I can’t really describe. I think this is the peace you receive when your desires correlate to God’s. A peace that defies all rational calculations.

“.…6 Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

Boom. I may be way off, but I think that’s what I’ve been trying to describe in this last paragraph. This peace that surpasses all comprehension. I just feel complete. Satisfied.

For the last few months I’ve been in limbo. Frozen by fear and terrified of the disappointment that I knew was coming. I tried to ignore the decision we were faced with. Long story short. We can’t have children without serious help. To keep things simple and less awkward…we’re missing parts. So if we want biological children our only option is IVF. Our doctor was patient and thorough in her explanation of the process. It was during this detailed and lengthy explanation that I got this dreaded feeling – this wasn’t for us. As bad as I wanted this to work. As bad as I want a child that looks like Page. As bad as I wanted to let this doctor “Baby Mama” me up, it just didn’t feel right. And I knew from the beginning. I just didn’t want to believe it.

So we were left with a decision. Not whether or not we would have children, but how. For the last two months any and all down time was consumed with this thought. I weighed the two options. I weighed the costs. I weighed my desires, dreams, and what I wanted to experience in the future. We talked about it timidly here and there. I think he was always fearful that I would break out in a hysterical crying session. Which I do often (I’m also a cryer by nature). So here we were tiptoeing around our future. Putting off the inevitable.

Then one day I finally felt strong enough to talk about it. People just need time to process. To grieve. To think. I kept everything inside. We both felt this way. We told our families the bare minimum. For several reasons. One because we couldn’t handle it ourselves. Two because it’s such a personal and rather awkward topic. And three – probably the biggest reason – we felt like we were disappointing everyone. We’re both the oldest in our families. Everyone is waiting on us. So it took awhile to get to the point of sharing my thoughts and fears.

Page and I talked about it, in our little kitchen, as he ate cold pizza straight from the box. I told him what was on my heart. Even though we’ve been married for four years and together for almost eight, completely baring your soul is still terrifying. But freeing. That’s what I experienced. A burden that I had been carrying around in my heart, weighing down my soul, was removed. I told Page that I couldn’t stand before my God and justify using IVF. And that’s what I would have to do. Explain it away. As I spoke those words aloud I knew adoption was the way to create our family. I just knew. Page responded “I think you’re right.” And that was it. This beautiful feeling of peace and certainty. We can’t forget this feeling. We know the road ahead is paved with more difficulties and most likely heartaches. Which is why I wrote this. To remind us that as long as we’re doing God’s will we’re going to be ok. We want to hold on to this feeling of peace and strength, so in the months to come we can come back and not doubt ever again.

This is real life. Our real life. And it doesn’t have to be like everyone else’s. Real life is tough. It requires strength and encouragement and help. It’s realizing you’re going to adopt, while eating a cheese stick. That’s how all good adventures begin.

We’re adopting.

Originally posted February 2016