Actually, I spent a couple of hours last week going through old posts that specifically referred to infertility, conception, and adoption. I'm trying to compile them by date into something a little more cohesive...something maybe publishable. Once they're all there, I will start connecting them with devotional thoughts about things God taught me along the way. And things He is still teaching me, come to think of it. Certain concepts in scripture seem to jump out at me with much more significance now that I'm a parent. Particularly: grace, discipline, acceptance, ...discipline....
Unfortunately, there's not a chapter in Proverbs specifically related to potty training. I am happy to report, though, that we are sending one child to school today without a diaper on. Anna is communicating very clearly and successfully about her potty needs. However, she has not taken to demure little phrases about going potty. She was getting actions confused, which led to poor timing on our part. So, to clarify, we taught her to say "Drop a deuce". I'm not proud of it. But it has been 100% successful since Wednesday of last week. You can't argue with those kinds of statistics.
Back to the archiving project - I just renewed my domain name subscription, so I have a year to complete the task. I go back and read everything, sometimes taking out a whole post, sometimes just cutting and pasting relevant snippets. There's a whole lot of drivel in there, too, to sort through. Sometimes, the humor muse was definitely with me, or if a post was particularly moving and deep, the Holy Spirit.
The most fun, though, has been reflecting on answered prayers, some that weren't even prayed out loud or understood at the time. For example - when going through fertility treatment with clomid, I joked about the prospect of having twins. I also got a little misty eyed as I read through my wrestlings with the grief of giving up (so I thought) the opportunity to carry and give birth to a child of our own creation.
I haven't written a lot about the specifics of this pregnancy, other than updating on life and lifestyle changes that having another child will bring about. Mostly because I'm still surrounded by a few people in my life who are wanting and can't have children. I want to be sensitive to them. I don't want my happiness to be bitterness for them. And I don't want the difficulties that having this child now, not a few years down the road, like we had planned for our second adoption, to appear to them as ingratitude. We are grateful, but the word I use most often when people ask us if we are excited or happy is - shocked. There is still a wide-eyed wonder of, "This is happening....now?" And there is a little bit of, "You couldn't give us one more year to get the girls out of preschool?" Which finally pours out into a reservoir of "Okay...You did this. You figure it out. I'll just trust You."
So, I'll close out today with an encouraging word of trust and waiting. Who hasn't been in a situation where those were the actions called for? These are words of a song I wrote in November of 2000, just before Joe and I started connecting one on one as friends, apart from hanging out with groups. Just before I broke my guitar while recording my CD. And long before I knew it would be 10 years before we travelled to meet the girls for the first time, and 12 years before we would find out about baby Asher's arrival. So much ground we've travelled from the day I wrote these words, and they're still so significant to me.
The direction of the conversation is God speaking to Abram....and us. Just Believe.
I named the stars. You can't even count them. Don't you think that I know all your needs.
Nothing is hidden. Nothing is lost. I am the God who sees.
Why are you crying when you could be singing?
Why does laughter feel so far away?
Why are you waiting, and why are you trying to do it alone
When you could pray?
Just believe, just be still, just be near to me,
and hear my heart.
Just look up to my face, and know in your heart
that I have plans for you.
I knew you before you were born.
And your days are in my hands.
And a future you cannot conceive.
Don't be anxious.
I made a promise that I would be faithful from the day that time began.
Why do you doubt in the midst of your struggles that there's strength enough in my hand?
I could have kept my own Son from dying to save myself from the pain.
Believe in the power that raised Him to life.
I never changed.
Be still, and then you will know I am God
And I love you so, and this pain may last through the night.
But joy will come with the morning light.