35/35 and an update

Our birth mother is 35 weeks along and has 35 days remaining -- Thirty-five days!  WOW.

The past several weeks have been nothing but getting ready for Baby Girl LaManna.  Some of which includes (but is not limited to) selecting pediatricians, visiting day care facilities, and finalizing all the logistics for us to head out to California on Jan 1st, 2012.  Because, not only are we preparing for the hopeful arrival of a little one.  We are also planning for an impending one to two week "vacation" after the baby is born.  Because this will be an interstate adoption, we have to stay in the state where the baby is born while all the paperwork and legal stuff clears.  It takes ten days to two-ish weeks.  And of course, this little "vacation" will start, oh I don't know, sometime between Jan 1st and Jan 20th (or perhaps, god forbid, the end of this month).  Because, in case you didn't get the memo....babies can't read calendars.  They can't be bothered with pesky due dates, they come when they are ready.  And sometimes, they decide to start making their grand exit in the middle of the night.

There's nothing left to do really, except wait.  And if there's one thing we've gotten good at during this process, it's waiting.  (And paperworking - is that a word?)  This is a different kind of waiting though, than the waiting that came before we were matched.  That waiting felt theoretical, with no end in sight, and no real idea what would happen before we got to the end.  This waiting feels definite.  One way or another, this baby will be born.  The waiting will end.  We are excited, without a doubt.  But we are nervous.  Anxious about what it will all be like, how it will all happen. Anticipating the actual birth?  With all the many words that are tucked away in my brain, I still don't have the words to describe the anticipation involved in this.

Our lawyer in California contacted us Saturday night to let us know that she was filing paperwork at the hospital where the birth mother plans on delivering.  This is normally 'routine' paperwork letting the hospital know that first and foremost this is an adoption.  She has provided our names and contact info to that hospital so (1) they know who we are and know why we are there, (2) we can get fitted with those high-tech hospital wrist bands once the baby is born.  There is also a section for the birth mother's wishes/wants.  More specifically does she want to hold the baby after birth, or stay on the maternity floor and who she wants in the delivery room during birth...well, our lawyer gave us the surprising (yet, amazing) news that the birth mother would like Rachel to be in the delivery room with her!  We are at a loss for words at how wonderful a gesture this is...and we know that it is also something that could change - depending on how delivery goes; but for right now, we are on Cloud 9 and could not be happier!!

Thank you for your continued support, thoughts and prayers!  Let the countdown begin...

Adoption Fundraiser -- Reminder

** Reminder **

Our t-shirt fundraiser has roughly 90 days left before it gets closed.  Click the link on the main page of our blog and check out the shirts.

A big THANK YOU to those that have already purchased yours....don't forget to send us a photo of you wearing the shirt so we can include it in the baby's book!

We Are Team....

PINK!

Birth mother's ultrasound confirmed (within 95%) that we are having

November -- National Adoption Month

In honor of November being National Adoption Month, we wanted to pass along a couple of stories from the the many different perspectives of adoption.

From an Adoptive Dad's Perspective


From a Birth Mother's Perspective


Feel free to check out the entire blog (link below) as there will be a new story added every day in the month of November.

Portrait of an Adoption


Enjoy!

How to be The Village

We've been so graciously (and continuously) asked by our friends and family "How Can We Help?"

First, know this: we are somewhere in the middle of Waiting Purgatory. Please let me explain something about WP: It sucks in every way. Oh sure, we try to make it sound better than it feels by using phrases like “We’re trusting in God’s plan” and sentiments like that. But we are aching and sometimes getting frustrated and going bonkers when you’re not watching. It’s hard. It feels like an eternity even though you can see that it is not.

Let’s break this down into two categories:

Support Before the Airport

1. Just kind, normal words of encouragement. Not the kind that assume we are one breath away from atheism. Not the kind that attempt to minimize the difficulties and tidy it all up with catchphrases. We don’t actually need for you to fix our wait. We just want you to be our friend and acknowledge that the process is hard and you care about us while we’re hurting. That is GOLD.

** I can assure you, at no point in this journey did we think about kicking Jesus to the curb, but we still get to cry tears and feel our feelings, folks. Jesus did. And I’m pretty sure he went to heaven when he died.

2. Your questions are welcomed! We’re glad to talk about adoption, and we’re thankful you care. I assure you we didn’t enter adoption lightly, so sharing details of this HUGE PIECE OF OUR LIVES is cathartic.

3. When you say you’re praying for us, the birth mother and our baby, and you actually really are, not only does that soothe our troubled souls, but according to Scripture, it activates the heavens. So pray on, dear friends. Pray on. That is always the right thing to say. And please actually do it. We need people to stand in the gap for us when we are too tired and discouraged to keep praying the same words another day.

Support After the Airport 

1.Please do not disappear. If you think the waiting stage is hard for us, it won't even hold the barest candle to what comes after the airport. Not. The. Barest. Candle. We need you after the airport waaay more than we ever needed you before. Call. Email. Check in. Send us funny cards. Keep this behavior up for longer than six days.

2. Come over sometime when our baby is asleep (or not) and sit with us. Our future schedule, as we see it, we are going to be home, home, home, home, home. Good-bye, date nights. Good-bye, GNO’s. Good-bye, spontaneous anything. Good-bye, big public outings. Good-bye, nightlife. So please bring some community to our doorstep. Bring friendship back into our lives. Bring adult conversation and laughter. And bring some beer.  :)

Here’s one last thing: As you watch us struggle, celebrate, cry and flail, we also want you to know that adoption is beautiful. God invited us into something monumental and lovely. We need you during these difficult months of waiting and transitioning, but we also hope you see that we serve a faithful God. And even through the tears and tantrums (of ours), we will be able to look at our child and marvel that God counted us worthy to raise them. We are humbled. We’ve been gifted with a very holy task, and when you help us rise to the occasion, you have an inheritance in their story; your name will be counted in their legacy.

Thank you for being the village. You are so important.