Category: Uncategorized

This Place of Grace

Wow, friends. This has been a sad week for so many. From personal acquaintances dealing with sudden illness to the news of what all has transpired in Orlando, it seems every day brings about a different reason to mourn. Sometimes, I don’t even want to check my phone alerts or news channels/sites due to so much tragedy going on within our communities, our nation, and the world.  I had this quote from Dennis Garvin on my mind today,  “Temptation is not his (Satan’s) strongest weapon. Despair is.”

Do you want to know what other words rang out in my mind today?

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Psalm 23 (NIV)
Even when it seems the world is collapsing around us, the comforting Word always seems to bring me right back to this place of grace; this wonderfully rich place where hope sustains and fulfills.  Friends, let the Word speak to you.  Embrace it.  Carry it throughout these trying days, and rest comfortably in this place of grace.

 

Ten Ways to Prepare to be a New Foster Parent (Adoption.com article)

I recently wrote for Adoption.com regarding ten ways to prepare to be a new foster parent.  There is so much that new foster parents have to learn, and in many cases, they just won’t know what is valuable information until their first foster child moves in.

This list is short, but hopefully, it will help you if you are preparing to be a new foster parent!

Click here to read the article:  Ten Ways to Prepare to be a New Foster Parent

Blessings,

Caroline

Keep on Keeping On {a message for adoptive families}

Today was one of those days when I was reminded that adoption is a human experience that reaches the depths of emotions. I sat through an adoption staffing (interview with families in hopes of being selected for a child in need of adoption). I listened to the families pour their hearts and hopes out to the team members. There were tears, laughter, and a lot of emotions in between. As I finished my day, I watched a touching video of a family who adopted their little one that they have been fostering.

And, I cried.

I thought about our own foster care and adoption journey. I thought about the families who are interviewed time and again, yet never selected. I thought about the ones who are just taking their first steps to becoming adoptive parents, the ones whose hearts are just now being stirred about adoption, and the multitude of others who will soon join the ranks of waiting families.

Adoption is so much harder than it appears to be. I don’t think it is possible for anyone to understand this unless they have been through it. It forces oneself to be strong and courageous, while also being vulnerable. Foster and adoptive families are asked to give all of themselves to children with no guarantee that it will work out.

They have to prove to others that they are worthy of being parents – this is something that people who have had biological children will never understand. They are asked to be authentic and genuine, and by doing so, they are judged on their potential as adoptive parents. Their expectation and labor are not counted by hours or months. Often, they are counted by many years.

Beyond the glorious adoption announcements and videos are years of struggle, hope, angst, heartbreak, and resilience. These things are weaved into the fabric of adoptive families. These things reach into the deepest part of our souls, and remind us that in the end, it is all worth it. The children are always worth it.

Adoption is hard. It takes a ton of patience in the waiting. The ride up the hill is torturous, but my friend, the other side of this mountain is sheer beauty.

To anyone who is awaiting the time when adoption calls your name,

Buckle up,

Put on your boots,

Hold your head high,

and keep on keeping on.

Adoption is worth it

A Gorilla, A Petition, and the Perspective of a Child Welfare Professional

(Writer’s Note:  This opinion is not intended to represent other child welfare professionals’ opinions.  Plus, I’m not an expert on anything Gorilla or zoo related, and I can barely keep my children from escaping my grasp.)

If you are like me, your social media feed has been taken over by the shocking events that happened when a preschooler fell into the Gorilla exhibit at the Cincinnati Zoo.  I’m guilty of commenting and sharing news about the incident, as well.  When I first saw the video of the child being dragged through the water, I watched with fear over what could have happened.  I thought about my own children, and what I would do if the same thing happened to any of them.  It hit close to home because I have an almost 4-yr-old who is extremely curious, lacks no fear, and is too quick for me to keep up with.  My heart just sank watching the video; saddened by the death of the majestic Harambe, worried about the child, and apprehensive about the reactions of so many.

I want you to know that I have always been an animal lover.  My parents endured my bringing home half-dead pigeons in hopes of healing them.  I have donated money to a tremendous amount of animal organizations and have fed numerous stray animals.  (I fed a stray cat just hours before writing this.)  In between classes in college, instead of driving the fifteen or so minutes to my house, I would drive around, read the “lost pet” signs, and then look for the animals in hopes of reuniting them with their owners.  I have helped to find homes for stray animals and rushed a dog to an emergency vet right after being hit by a car because I could not stand the thought of that poor baby lying there helpless while everyone else just zoomed by.  So, please hear me.  I adore animals.  I have pets and love them dearly.  I teach my children to do the same.

With that being said, when I read that nearly 500,000 people had signed a petition for an investigation and charges of negligence and/or lack of supervision to be brought up against the parents of this young boy, I had a visceral reaction.  My blood boiled a bit.  I am all about social movement, and stand behind change and action being brought on by the people but as a child welfare professional, I was just livid.  It’s not because I do not think the anger is justified, or that the parents’ actions, or lack thereof, should not be taken into consideration.  (Although, I do not know how it happened, and choose to hold no judgment.  As a mother, I know that things happen literally in the blink of an eye. I do wonder how anyone should be able to escape into a supposedly secured animal exhibit, especially a young child.)

My anger with the petition has more to do with the response to this one incident, than anything else.  My husband told me to just let it go, and stop reading/watching the news about it.  Maybe, I should.  Yet, in my heart, I know that the public outcry appears to have little to do with the child and more to do with the death of Harambe.  This is what stirs my feelings.  I’ve worked in child welfare now for fifteen years, and I can assure you that 500,000 people have never rallied around a situation involving negligence or lack of supervision for any child I’ve worked professionally with.

According to the American Society for the Positive Care of Children  (www.americanspcc.org), in 2014, an estimated 702,000 children were victims of abuse and neglect.  In that same year, 3.2 million cases of child abuse were investigated, and 526,744 children suffered neglect.  I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I find these statistics to be quite overwhelming.  I walk into my office each week knowing that part of my job security is based on the need for services for abused and neglected of children.

I can probably count on two hands the number of perpetrators who have actually been charged and subsequently convicted of abuse or severe neglect for the cases that I have been involved in.  I say two hands, but that might be exaggerating a bit.  And with this, where is the outrage?  Where is the petition?

Where are the people when a young child is left alone all day long because the single mother is working three jobs in order to make rent and put food on the table?  

Where are the people when a toddler is found alone and wandering down a busy street?  

Where is the outcry for justice when a baby is found in a diaper that has not been changed for days, or when a teenager is kicked out of his or her home by an alcoholic parent?  

Where are the people when a baby is diagnosed with failure to thrive after suffering months of extreme neglect?  

Where are the signatures for punishment when someone, who has caused lifelong damage to a child, is not held responsible for this crime?

Where is the outrage?  Where is the petition?  Where are you?

I am tremendously sad over what occurred at the Cincinnati Zoo.  It is just plain awful. However, I am so incredibly thankful that the little boy survived.  A child’s life is of great value.  We should never forget this.

If you have never worked with children who have suffered abuse and neglect, then you do not understand how much it affects their lives, how vulnerable they are, and just how heartbreaking their stories are.  As one person who has worked in child welfare for a long time, I know firsthand that neglect and lack of supervision happen far too often in this nation we call home.

My anger over this situation has little to do with the death of Harambe; although it bothers me that any of this happened.  It has more to do with the reality that social media persuades us to get passionate and angry over certain circumstances, and yet, in our communities, and maybe in our own homes, we choose to turn a blind eye to what is really happening with children.

Where is the outrage about this?

 

Don’t Lose Sight of Your Vision

Keep Calm

These past few weeks have been somewhat of a blur for me.  I went on a min-vacation with some friends, our school year has ended, and our summer schedule has begun.  In many ways, I’ve felt a little “blah” about most things.

Recognizing these feelings has caused me to do some introspection about my life. I’ve thought about ending this blog, disengaging from social media, and giving up on personal goals.  I’ve wondered where God is, and why in the world do I feel like He has not been listening to me, or perhaps, why I have not been listening to Him.  Oh, my.  We are vulnerable, aren’t we?

At a staff chapel this past week (yes, we have chapel at my job!), the Pastor spoke about having a vision for our lives, and  immediately, this caused my heart to stir.  He reminded us of the importance of hanging on to our visions, praying over them, giving them to God, and realizing that the Enemy wants to destroy our vision.  He also talked about spiritual warfare when it comes to our feelings of giving up what we feel God has laid on our hearts to complete in life.

Every time the Enemy is mentioned, I immediately go back to what I felt growing up knowing I would not have biological children, wondering about motherhood, and tasting the bitterness of confusion and despair.  It seems like a lifetime ago, but in reality, these feelings and thoughts were an ever-present part of most of my life.  I never believed I would ever tell anyone my inner thoughts about life, especially barrenness.  I’m not one to over-spiritualize everything, but man, I’m so glad that I happened to be in the office the day this Pastor came to share and encourage us.  It was one of those moments when you feel like the message was meant just for you.

I needed the reminder that we are engaged in a war.  This war is not a physical one.  It is a spiritual one.  There is an ever-present need for continual prayer for our children, our spouses (if married), our communities, our nations, our neighbors who are considered the outcasts of society,and for ourselves.

Over the past few weeks, I have not felt the need to write, and in some ways, lost the desire.  I’ve wondered if I’m done speaking my history of barrenness to the world, and if it is time to close this chapter of my life.  However, the reality is that in the end it does not matter the size of an audience, nor the popularity, likes, followers, and shares that  we have.  What matters is that we wrap our lives with authenticity, humility, and the tenacity to focus with the full measure of what it is to be a believer.  I’ve also been reminded that my children deserve for me to be faithful and fully present.

The Enemy tried with great effort to make me feel as though the Lord had forgotten about me, and that He was no longer listening to my prayers.  However, my heart continually submerges into the ocean of Grace, and I know that I am not a forsaken or jilted child.

And, neither are you.

Friends, if you have lost sight of your personal dreams, feel as if the Lord has forsaken you, have hit a wall with your creative pursuits, or if you are wallowing in despair, hang on to the Weaver of dreams.

Don’t give up.

Don’t lose heart.

Your story does matter.  Don’t stop telling it.  Don’t believe for one second that your life is not a testimony.  Share your dreams, your wonderful creativity, your eye for fantastic images, and your brilliance with words.  Don’t lose sight of your vision.

What’s God going to say to my questions? I’m braced for the worst.
    I’ll climb to the lookout tower and scan the horizon.
I’ll wait to see what God says,
    how he’ll answer my complaint.

And then God answered: “Write this.
    Write what you see.
Write it out in big block letters
    so that it can be read on the run.
This vision-message is a witness
    pointing to what’s coming.
It aches for the coming—it can hardly wait!
    And it doesn’t lie.
If it seems slow in coming, wait.
    It’s on its way. It will come right on time.”

Habakkuk 2:1-2

 

 

 

He’s Never Called You Mommy, Birth Mother.

This weekend marked the eighth anniversary of the adoption of our oldest son and Mother’s Day.  Despite the joy this weekend had, you (Birth Mother) were on my mind.  He’s getting so big and growing into a young man; still yet, in my heart, and I know in yours, he will always be a blonde curly-haired and brown-eyed little boy.

photodayafter

The reality is that he has stopped calling me “Mommy”, and I don’t know when this happened.  One day, he was tugging my pants saying, “Hold you, Mommy” and the next, it became just simply, “Mom”.

It grieves me a bit to think about how fast time is flying by, how we are all so far removed in years from when he was little, and how soon…too soon…he will be grown and spreading his wings to fly into the world.  Still yet, through all of the mountains and valleys of raising a boy in this world, you are never far from my thoughts.

The painful truth that hits me square in the heart is that he has never called you “Mommy”.

I don’t know why I feel compelled to write to you every anniversary of our adoption.  I suppose it is the least I could do.  The fact that our adoption occurred right around Mother’s Day is something I rejoice in, but also feel sadness about.  My first official Mother’s Day was just days out from our adoption in 2008.  In many ways, I feel that the timing is God’s wink at me.  In other ways, the timing is so incredibly complex and full of grief.  People may not understand why, or wonder how I could think of you so often, especially on this day, but that is okay.  This is our journey – his, mine, and yours.

Honestly, if I think too much about it all, my emotions get the best of me.  On the one hand, my heart leaps with love at the thought of being his mother.  On the other, it sways in sadness that you are not.  If you did not choose life, if an intervention had not happened, and if difficult decisions were not made, then I would not be here, typing this out, and listening to him laughing at a video in his bedroom.

This, Birth Mother, is the place where sadness and joy sit next to each other; one touching the other, one never too far from the other. 

I want you to know that he is a wonderful little human.  He is kind, athletic, artistic, and enjoys all sorts of people and places.  He does not seem to know a stranger and has no expectations of the types of friends he makes.  I love that about him.  He holds no judgment about other people.  He doesn’t care what skin color a person has, or what interests a person has, he just meets people where they are at.  This is a lesson for us all and makes my heart swell with pride.

He is eager to enjoy time with others, loves to goof off, and is a loyal person.  He is a good big brother, loves animals, and is always thinking of grand ideas that are (sometimes) okay to explore.

Birth Mother, you were so incredibly kind to us even though we had your son.  You could have chosen not to be.  You could have decided that we were your enemy and that I was anything but his Mother.  Instead, you referred to me as his “Mamma”.

Thank you…from the deepest and most vulnerable part of my soul, thank you.

I suppose you will always be in my thoughts, and in my heart on every adoption anniversary and Mother’s Day.  He may not call me “Mommy” anymore, but know that…

In my heart, we are both his “Mommy”.

 

When Infertility Makes You Feel Inadequate as a Woman {Adoption.com article}

I recently wrote an article for Adoption.com regarding infertility and the feelings of inadequacy.  This topic is so near and dear to my heart.  I know too many (including myself) who have struggled, or are struggling with insecurities about themselves based on the confusing and conflicting feelings that infertility and barrenness can bring to one’s life.

Dear friend, if you are struggling with the feelings of inadequacy, please know that you are not alone, and you are far from inadequate.

Click on the link to read the article:  https://adoption.com/when-infertility-makes-you-feel-inadequate-as-a-woman

 

 

You Are Not Ready To Be a Foster Parent If…

In my job, I often speak to families who are curious about foster parenting.  Some of them come to the decision to foster as a way to fulfill what they believe to be a calling in their lives.  Others have adult children, are now empty-nesters, and continue to have the desire to parent.  There are also many who start the journey of foster parenting after years of infertility, and in hopes that fostering might eventually lead to adoption.  All of these reasons are significant.  They all carry a deep motivation to help meet the needs of at-risk children in our communities.  However, not everyone is right for foster parenting.

To be brutally honest, I cringe a bit when I hear people speak about their desire to be foster parents.  I hear them say, “We really want a baby that is ready to be adopted, and does not have any major issues…”  I just want to say, “Bless your heart”.  And, I mean it.  I really do.

However, there is a great distance between the desire to foster/adopt and the knowledge of what all it will take out of you to do so.  And, that’s okay.  The first step is to ask questions.  The second step is to listen.  I mean…really listen to what professionals, foster parents, and others in the field are saying.

Entering into the world of foster parenting is exciting, but definitely presents a huge learning curve.  Because of this, let’s take off our rose-colored glasses for a bit, and get real.

Presenting my list:  “You Are Not Ready To Be a Foster Parent If…” 

(Disclaimer:  I had some help from other foster/adoptive parents with this one…just want you to know that these opinions are not just my own; although, I agree with all of them.  Also, this list pertains to foster parenting in the United States.  Other countries/areas of the world may have different laws/expectations of foster families.)

  1. You are not ready to be a foster parent if you do not see the value of the required training.  Most agencies/governments require training in order to be approved as a foster parent.  If you believe that “I’ve raised children and it is common sense”, I would challenge you to consider that the training is not only required, it is important.  Of course, you understand basic child development because you have parented, but you need to understand that the children who are in foster care have experienced trauma, separation from family of origin, and lots of changes.  Parenting a foster child IS different than parenting a child you have raised from birth.  The training does not stop when your license is approved.  You will be asked to participate in on-going training.  Even after adoption, you may need to seek additional training, information, and resources. Trust me on this.  My husband and I have both attended various training in order to give us better insight into our kids, and our last adoption occurred in 2013.  Adoption really is a lifelong learning process.
  2. If you desire to find a child for your family instead of offering your family to a child, then you are not ready to be a foster parent.  Children who have been brought into the system because of abuse and neglect may not match your expectations of an “ideal” child.  Switch your thinking from finding the right child for your family to giving your family to a child, despite the history and issues the child is facing.  It may not feel perfect (because parenting never is), but foster children should never have to live up to the standards of your home that is hopefully free of abuse and neglect.
  3. You are not ready to be a foster parent if you believe that love fixes everything. Please don’t get me wrong.  Love does help, and I’m all about love, peace, and rainbows, but if love was enough to undo the trauma, then social workers would be spending less time finding new placements for foster children who have disrupted, and I dare say that abuse and neglect would not be an issue.  Pouring love into a child goes a long way, but fostering takes so much more.  Love is also not always about feeling good all of the time.  Love takes it all…the sweat, the tears, the hard work, and the dirt.   It takes tenacity, resourcefulness, humility, understanding, and humor.  If it didn’t, would it even be called love?
  4. If you have firmly picked a side in nature versus nurture debate, then you are not ready to be a foster parent.  Oh, this one.  I’ve been asked about a gazillion times where I stand on this debate.  In my twenties/early thirties and before parenting through adoption came around, I was headstrong about nurture.  However, as a parent, I know that nature and nurture are equally important.  I also know that children who have experienced trauma, have on-going developmental delays, or come from high-risk situations need extra nurturing, patience, and stability.  I cannot tell you the number of foster and adoptive parents who, after having children in their homes, shake their heads with a fervent “YES” that genetics and nature are incredibly important and absolutely impact a child’s development.  For example, one of my kids does this certain little thing with his mouth, and I recognize it immediately as resembling the same thing his birth mother does.  He has never lived a day of life with her, except in the womb.
  5. You are not ready to be a foster parent if you believe that children should not have a connection with their birth parents in some way.  Even if adoption has occurred, you must remember that your children have a history that does not include you.  I know that does not feel good, but that is the reality.  For my children, their primary histories only include being in the wombs of their biological mothers.  However, these histories are important, and so is the fact that they all have biological parents who love them, think about them and miss them.  Regardless of how you feel about your child’s biological parents, it is your responsibility to share with your children what you can about their biological families.
  6. If you cannot find it in your heart to forgive the birth parents for what they may have done to the children, then you are not ready to be a foster parent.  Forgiveness is one of those things that we love to soak up, but man, we have a hard time dishing it out.  When you think about the drug exposure, the lack of supervision or protection, the physical and sexual abuse, or the chronic neglect of children, the first thing that does not come to your mind is “Let’s just forgive them for what they have done.”  I know what you are thinking because I have thought the same thing!  More than once!  However, if we take a step back and remember that the biological parents were also children who had dreams for their futures or who may histories full of abuse, it is much easier to be empathetic to them.  I’m not saying to forget what has happened, but I am saying that you have to get past it, reconcile with it, and choose to reach out in support to the birth parents.
  7. You are not ready to be a foster parent if you do not have a support system. Fostering can take a lot out of you.  With natural childbirth, you have leave time, people bringing dinner over, others offering to clean your house and lots of support.  With fostering, you may not have any of these things.  I have spoken to so many foster parents who, in their first few months of fostering, were completely worn out.  They cannot go on date nights because they cannot just drop the kids off at a family member’s or friend’s house without prior approval.  They may not be approved for leave from work.  It can be quite overwhelming.  You need to build a support system that includes approved childcare and someone to just let you unload your frustrations on.  It is so important.
  8. If your only goal is adoption, and you are not willing to help parents get their kids back, then you are not ready to be a foster parent.  If this is the case, then there are a tremendous amount of children (necessarily, not babies) in need of adoption in the United States.  There is a federal law that mandates states to work towards reunification with biological families when children are brought into custody.  This is not just something that is taken into consideration or viewed as a recommendation.  It is expected to be upheld by the courts, caseworkers, and foster parents, and this can be a very difficult pill to swallow.  I’ve been there and done that.  I know how hard it can be, but it is not impossible.  Like a lot of things in life, we cannot control how other people respond to circumstances, but we can control how we respond.  I just know that if my children were in care, I would certainly want and need foster families who supported me and the goal to reunify with my children.  I suspect you probably feel the same way.
  9. You are not ready to be a foster parent if you are not willing to accept ambivalence and lack of gratitude from the children in your care.  Children who end up in foster care are generally not happy about it.  Why would they be?  Even with the tough situations they are in, they love their parents and want to be home.  Because of this, it is completely unrealistic to expect a child in your home to appreciate what you are doing for him or her.  The same goes with their feelings towards you.  Children and youth might be ambivalent about how they feel about you.  If you are a “feely” kind of person, it can hurt…a lot…to think that the child you are caring for may never (or, at least not for a long time) show you affection and concern.  My advice on this:  Don’t take it personally.
  10. If you lack patience with people and processes, then you are not ready to be a foster parent.  When asked what the average length of time a child is in care before potentially being available for adoption, I usually let people know that there is no average.  Each case and situation are different.  The US federal law dictates a length of time (typically between 15 to 22 months) that the birth parents can work towards reunifying with their children.  It is also important to remember that there is a ton of paperwork involved.  Most caseworkers and court officials are overloaded with cases.  Attorneys are also extremely busy.  All of these players and their workloads absolutely can affect how quickly or slowly things progress on the case.  Also, the biological parents deserve the time to rectify the situation that brought their children into care.  Again, if the tables were turned, I suspect we would all feel the same way.
  11. You are not ready to be a foster parent if you are not willing to remember that God loves the biological parents, whose children are in foster care, as much as He loves you.  Ouch, right?  It is super easy as a human being to administer our own versions of grace, or what we think God should feel about people who abuse/neglect children, or live a different lifestyle (whatever it is) than us.  Jesus entered into places where others did not want to go.  He offered care, compassion, and hope to the people who society disregarded.  He also gave instruction.  When we learn about the details of why a child enters foster care, it is hard not to get angry.  However, the passion of Christ was for us all…everyone.  Let us not forget that.

I hope this list informs and inspires you about foster parenting.  I certainly do not want it to dissuade anyone from foster parenting, or seeking information about it.  However, one must remember that when you choose to become a foster parent, you are choosing to jump into a world of many imperfections.  It is not a fair system.  Not for anyone.

Biological parents are faced with quite difficult circumstances.  They absolutely need our concern and compassion.  Foster families will also deal with frustrating situations beyond their control.

For the children and youth who fall into the system, life is anything but fair.  At the very least, they deserve foster families who are willing to commit to the goal of reunification or permanency through adoption (if this is what the court decides), who understand the need for children to have a connection to their biological families, and who realize that trauma can present many challenges both in the present and the future.

So, are you ready to be a foster parent?  Oh, friend.  I hope so.

 

Why You Should Never Say “You Can Always Adopt”

Many people have lots to say about infertility.  Some sentiments are of comfort while others are shallow and insincere.  Soon after my hysterectomy in 1983 (at the age of eleven), I lost count early on regarding the number of times someone said to me, “You can always adopt.”  “She can always adopt” were also words that my parents heard regarding my illness and subsequent hysterectomy.  This statement was definitely a running theme in my life.

Don’t get me wrong.  I do believe that people tried to encourage us.  However, in the early to mid-1980’s and subsequent years, the topics of barrenness, infertility, and adoption were often whispered, and not spoken out loud.  Adoption was also in the far off distance of my life.  Sure, I thought about it.  I knew that if parenthood would come, it would do so through adoption.  However, telling me that I could always adopt did very little to help in my understanding of the strong and complex emotions I was feeling.

The reasons why these words fall flat on the ears of people dealing with infertility and pregnancy loss are just as varied as the emotions people feel when facing the issues.  For some people, adoption is not even on their radar.  Others may fear being rejected or not matched for an adoption.  The time it takes, the waiting, the approval, expenses, the desire to adopt, and heartache are all factors that one must take into consideration.

For me, the reason why I never appreciated the words “You can always adopt” is simple:

These words negated the grief and loss I felt about losing the ability to have a biological child.

I suspect others may feel the same way.

Although adoption seems like an instant resolution to barrenness and infertility, it is not.  It is a separate experience in life, and should be considered so.  Telling someone they can always adopt (in reference to infertility) ignores the importance of grieving over the loss of having a biological child, and minimizes adoption as a second choice.

With any great loss in life, there is a process to recovery.  Infertility, barrenness, and pregnancy loss are no different, and yet, so many suffer in silence.  When we are comforting someone who is grieving over the loss of a significant person in their lives, we do not offer that they find someone else who is of equal importance.  The same should be considered when supporting a friend or loved one who is infertile, or has miscarried.

Instead, know that you will never understand their experience and emotions unless you have gone through a similar experience.  Realize that while you are offering quick answers, they are still in the process of asking a multitude of questions.  Some may be in shock or confusion about their situation.  Life is different from what they once thought it would be.  It is important to recognize this.  Understand that infertility is a big deal, and should never be minimized.  It is a life-changer.

“You can alway adopt” are well-meaning words, but they are ones that are better left unsaid. 

There’s Something About Grief

Today snuck up on me.  Or, maybe I should say that yesterday snuck up on me.  Yesterday, April 6th, was the birthday of my cousin Kelly who passed away nearly twenty years ago at the age of twenty-three.  To be honest, I’ve been a crazy person this week.  With activities for the kiddos, work stuff, and the regular rigmarole of life, I only thought of it being Kelly’s birthday a few times.  Until today.

There’s something about grief that doesn’t seem to go away.

It sneaks up on you, catches you by surprise, and for a moment, you are back in the world of reliving what life would have or could have been like if one of your favorite persons was still walking on Earth.

Grief caught up to me today.  In the car.  Driving on a busy road. Tears streaming down my face.  Wishing she was here so that we could scavenge the ground of parenting together.  I found myself longing to see her smile, hear her laughter, and giggle at the things that the two of us found so amusing.

Kelly would be forty-three-years-old this year.  Who knows what her life would be like, but I’d like to think that it would be one full of children (she loved them, so).  She would probably have a gaggle of kittens and pups that she rescued.  Her yard would be covered in tulips (her favorite flower).  I’m sure she would still enjoy a big ‘ole iced tea and the Sunday newspaper. In my mind, she’s still twenty-three, wearing baby doll dresses, hitting the flea markets, rooting for the underdog, loving tulips, and struggling with the issues she faced.

There’s something about grief that keeps us locked in time.

Shortly after she passed, I had a dream.  The two of us were driving, windows down, music blaring, huge smiles, and no words.  It was our “Thelma and Louise” moment.  Kelly, dressed in all white, the sun kissing her face, her eyes sparkling with light, and the wind whipping through her hair, looked at me, looked towards the sun, and smiled a smile that kissed her cheekbones.

It may sound odd, but I’ve prayed about dreaming of her again.  I’ve longed to see her alive in my dreams, to converse with her, to share laughter, and to just be us.  But…these dreams have not come…not since 1996.

Forty-three years ago, my cousin, one of my first friends, and my best friend was born into the world.  Twenty years ago, she left.  My last visual of her was in the dream, smiling, laughing, happy, and free.

There’s something about grief.  There’s also something about life.  Each time I see a tulip, I think of her.  I think of life, and how precious it is.

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