“And if everything

does not fall into place 

at the same time and pace,

that does not mean

the years you’ve waited

have somehow been a waste.

Keep planting, sowing,

living, and knowing

beautiful things take time…

and that’s ok.”

-Morgan Harper Nichols, Storyteller

We’ve done a lot of waiting over the past 8 years of married life. In fact, sometimes I feel that if there were ever a phrase to encapsulate the essence of my life it would be, “hurry up and wait!”

Sometimes I like to wait. This is a rare occurrence, but there are those moments when I can actually see that waiting is reaping a serious reward.

Like, waiting for the doctor. I don’t mind this wait…, it mean’s I’m still putting off that shot or blood draw I know is eventually gonna have to happen,

“Oh, ma’am, you have work to get back to? Sure, go ahead of me… I literally have all day.”

“Oh, sir, I noticed that you’ve been waiting for two minutes, that’s far too long.., please, go ahead.”

Inevitably I will have no one to shove in front of me and then it’s me and the needle …, blood draw do your worst! And for someone who seems to have ghosts for veins…, it usually is the worst.

The waiting that we’re in now, this, oddly enough, feels like being pregnant. Having been pregnant, I want to make clear that I don’t mean to imply that it’s the same. It’s not. Pregnancy is something uniquely all it’s own, beautiful and intimate.  But adoption, as I know it thus far,  is also uniquely all it’s own. The similarity for me lies in the preparation.

The choices.

When I was pregnant with Edy and we were told she most likely wouldn’t survive the pregnancy, we had to make all the decisions about her birth plan at the same time we were making decisions for a death plan. It was a lot of thinking, a lot of praying, a lot of agonizing, a lot of paperwork and a whole lot of hoping. The choices concerning adoption are different…., and initially it’s super weird having to make these kinds of choices.

“What race do you prefer?”

“What gender do you prefer?”

“Are you open to adopting a child with disabilities?”

Along with the gazillions of very personal questions we have to answer about ourselves, having to think about preferences for our future and unknown child is just a little bizarre.

When you’re having a biological child, you get what you get and there’s a blissful ignorance to that. With adoption, we’re being asked to make these kinds of decisions before we even hold or see our future child. And on this side of the paperwork, that’s a good thing. It’s been good for Dustin and I to be thoughtful and prayerful about each decision we have to make. To check our motives and learn from others who have been here before us. And by the way…., Others….., thank you. Thank you for sharing your stories with us. Thank you for helping us grow. Thank you for hearing our worries, doubts, fears, and hopes. Wether we know you personally or not, wether you are a blog writer, book writer, friend, friend of a friend, Adopted child, or  Birth Mother. Thank you. Thank you so much for sharing yourself and your journey. You may never know what it has meant to this woman, sitting at her dining table, drinking her coffee and crying a little bit onto her laptop. You are my heroes.

For right now, waiting is physical and tangible. It’s full of little tasks and big ones.

Painting rooms

Purchasing plug protectors

Where did I put those plug protectors?

Making a list of essential baby gear

Will the baby be a boy or a girl?

What in the world is this going to look like in the end?

What have we gotten ourselves into?

HURRY UP ALREADY, I CAN’T WAIT!

The beautiful, angsty, unknown mess of the Epic Wait. It’s on like Donkey Kong and we are smack dab in the middle of all these rolling barrels of bananas. And it’s awesome. No, truly, it is. This is one of those waiting rooms that feels good to take time in because what’s on the other side of that door needs time and space to build into something pretty spectacular. Kind of like going to a spa and you get to lounge in the “waiting spaces” in between treatments, and the waiting spaces are just as luxurious as the treatments themselves. There’s the cucumber mint water that is just the right temperature of brain-refreshing-cool. There’s the pre-warmed bath robes that are so fluffy you feel like you’ve been enveloped in the snuggle of a thousand Persian kittens. Then there’s the employees, who are angels on earth, and they speak to you in soft low tones that reverberate off your skull like a gentle buddhist gong, and the chairs. The Chairs. They are marshmallows in disguise, designed to melt your spine in sweet, pillowy goodness.

This is my kind of waiting room.

The Insta-Relax room.

Not that this process is necessarily relaxing, but Dustin and I do have this crazy peace we can’t explain. We have the confidence of people who have finally made a decision and are driving towards their goal. This is such a good place to be in. I’m ready for what’s on the other side of this waiting room door, but I’m happy to hang out here while we have to ’cause guaranteed it won’t always be like this, but for now, I’m pretty darn thankful that it is.

“….beautiful things take time…, and that’s ok.”

 

Update: We now have $10,200 of our $50,000 goal. Seriously awesome. T-Shirts are officially for sale. You can purchase one by hitting the T-Shirt button on the home page of this site, or you can email me at becomingthemahlerfamily@gmail.com with your order details. We love you guys and are so thankful for your prayers, support and just your awesome selves. Thank You!