The Battle

What you don't see is the battle, the back and forth, the in-between, the spaces that I quietly write in my notebook and don't share with others what's going on. But I see it. I saw it. I knew it when it was happening and kept my mouth shut, at least a little, I never expressed that I was in a battle. But I was.

(Notebook entry written just after finishing the poem, I've Made Peace)

2/13/25 I can feel it, there's a response. Something God is trying to show me right now. Daughter is enough for Him. Me being His girl is enough. He gave me a necklace with a crown on it to remind me I'm His daughter, and I was searching for birthstone charms to add to it for Darrell, James, and Edwin, and I felt/realized I was again trying to hide behind the title of "mom". "Daughter" should be enough, it is for Him. If I had never become a mom, if my womb is always empty, I'm already enough for God simply with the title of daughter. He's proud of me just for being His.

A few days later we visited my family and my niece told me she thought *sister* would be with us, but she's with her real mom now. Though I knew her young 6 year old mind didn't mean anything hurtful by calling *sister's* biological mother her "real" mom, I cried over it the next morning and wrote this:

2/16/25 I hate the term "real mom",
it makes me feel not enough,
she comes by it naturally,
but I have to work for it and stuff.

I was asked once, "How long have you had him?",
And I said, "Since he was 2 days old.",
Her reply, "Oh, well then you're his real mom.",
And I never forgot the words I was told. 

None of my other children,
have I had since almost birth,
But that doesn't change their value to me,
And it doesn't change my worth.

But I fear for some, maybe it does?
When they use those words for her and not me.
When I've had to work so very hard,
And she just comes by it naturally.

What hurts the most is I can lose it,
the title of mom I've had to earn,
but birth and biological,
she keeps no matter how a case turns.

But I go back to being Suzanna,
When the kids are no longer "mine",
But that doesn't mean I was ever fake,
I was their real mom too for a time.

God help me to not take it personally,
when those words are used for her and not me. 

 
I knew when I wrote it, seeing what I'd just written the page before, that it was an attack. It made perfect sense. Just more proof that such attacks really exist seeing things side by side like that. Back home from visiting family I let myself think again about what God was trying to show me. I thought about this promised baby girl, Irene, and what it would be like to hold her for the first time. I thought about that moment, that sacred moment, when we'll first get to hold her. I thought of how proud we'll be being her parents simply because she exists, proud before she's even born, proud of her when she's done absolutely nothing to earn us being proud. I thought of that moment, and I thought, "That's how God sees me."

2/18/25 My girl, you are My girl,
I am proud to call you Mine.
Ever since before you were conceived,
I've been proud you were My baby.

The moment you entered this world, you had nothing,
But you were perfect in My eyes.
Six pounds, ___ ounces,
I couldn't have been more proud to be your Dad.

I have such dreams for your future,
    and I want to be there every step of the way.
Dreams that you will be kind and generous, that you'll be loving and forgiving,
    that you will persevere through whatever the world throws at you because you know your Dad is right there with you. 
    I've got your back, and I always will.

I have dreams for your future, only good dreams, but the world will try to convince you that that's not true. That I've forgotten you, that I've abandoned you, that I'm not on your side.
    I will always be on your side. You're My baby girl, and I will always want what is best for you.

My next several notebook entries go back and forth talking about how much I miss the kids who have left us, wondering what I've "heard" or haven't "heard", will they and their baby sister ever be here? I write some about Edwin sleeping in our bed, how he wiggles too much now and we're working on not letting him sleep between us anymore if he comes to our room in the middle of the night. I write how much I'm going to miss that, haven't had a kid who has slept in our bed since Darrell. I write thoughts overthinking visions of me being pregnant and what could they possibly mean, what do I even want them to mean? And then I write about our desired harbor. And after that the poem of just wishing I could ignore my pain of the others being gone.... Next thing I know my notebook entry on 3/6/25 starts with, "I've been considering giving up "unclean" foods." And I write about my confusion on the matter. On 3/11/25 I pause to talk about Irene, but then on 3/12/25 I write about how I was struggling reading through Acts feeling not enough as I read about the baptism of the Holy Spirit, do I have that already? Do I not? Am I failing? Am I lacking? Am I..?... I gave up unclean foods, cut back/worked to cut out coffee, told the boys about Irene, started preparing Irene's room, questioned whether or not I should have cut out unclean foods or should be working to cut out coffee at all... I'm a mental mess. And then through it all I wrote about Jonah, while I felt the weight of the curse of the law upon me feeling I needed to DO something to earn what God said He was going to give me freely.

Y'all I don't have it all figured out, I've never had it figured out, and I don't know if I'll every grasp it in all its entirety. But I do know this, back in February/March I was in a battle, and I chose the wrong side. I didn't choose grace, I chose works. I didn't choose faith, I chose the law. I... I will never be enough, but I don't have to be, because I already am through Christ. I can do nothing to deserve God wanting anything to do with me, but He chose me anyway, He adopted me, and He says I am His baby girl. I need to walk in that and let this battle go.

By the way, here's how Irene's room is coming. ♡

Tired

Y'all I'm tired. I'm tired of so many things sometimes I don't even know what I'm tired of, and I'm simply plain tired of being tired, you know? I'm just so tired and ready to be done being tired.

I started running in the mornings. I started push mowing our yard. I picked up some fictional book series I'd never read before and started diving in. Some of this is for my health, I want to have more energy! I dream to one day be big and pregnant and able to RUN! That sounds amazing. Mowing the yard gives me this lovely sense of accomplishment as I can see my progress with every passing, though at the same time it makes me feel not enough when I don't finish... The book has my mind off things. I'm tired of thinking. I'm tired of missing kids that aren't here. I'm tired of being confused and wondering if they'll ever come back. I'm tired of the drama and the back and forth and... and everything.

Couple, maybe few months back, I picked up something else too. I struggle feeling I'm not enough. I've struggled with that for a long time. I struggle with feeling when things go wrong that it's all my fault. I struggle a lot with the whole concept of grace, that we don't have to earn God's favor.    

I saw them, they showed up in a reel on Facebook, a big beautiful family, 10 kids and 1 on the way. Just beautiful. Envy, jealousy, comparison all wrapped up masked in awe and admiration. Many of her beliefs mirror mine. She homeschools, she doesn't celebrate Christmas or Easter because of all the pagan traditions wrapped up in those, she doesn't do immunizations for her kids (I've just started not doing those, now that I have a choice in doing them or not), she doesn't dress immodestly and doesn't use foul language and.... And then there's other things that I don't agree with, yet sometimes I struggle with, like the name Jesus isn't His original name, why do we call Him that when His name is Yeshua? But she doesn't even call Him Yeshua, she uses some other pronunciation that I've never even heard before. And she sticks with that, (I wonder if she corrects people if they say the name Jesus, hmmm).... And she doesn't eat pork, because it's unclean. Why? Why does she do that? At first I laughed at that, but then I found scriptures I'd heard quoted for when we were now given permission to eat unclean meats, and those scriptures were taken out of context.... Was she right? Are we not to eat unclean meats? And I read the story of Samson's parents and how his mom was told by The Messenger of God to make sure she didn't eat anything unclean (or to consume anything of the fruit of the vine) while she was pregnant and.... I wished that was me.

Oh how badly I just want to be told to do this or don't do that and then I'll be pregnant. Once the thought entered my mind that she might possibly be right about this whole unclean meats thing, I didn't eat anything "unclean" for about 2 months straight I think. I know changing my diet isn't going to "make me" pregnant, only God is going to do that, but still.... 10 kids and 1 on the way, now it's 11 kids and 1 on the way.... Why is God blessing her with so many? But now I see other things that just say "self-righteous" and I've finally chosen to quit following her. She has left church, most churches celebrate Christmas and Easter and will serve pork chops in the banquet hall, so now she has church in her own home. She has a huge following on Facebook now and I wonder how many other "home churches" might be starting because of her.

I've been reading Galatians. What Paul writes to the people of Galatia says a lot about people who were teaching things contrary to the gospel of Christ. I hurt reading Galatians feeling I am being called foolish for ever thinking she could be right about the clean and unclean meats. In Galatians Paul speaks of the promise given to Abraham, a promise given four hundred and thirty years before the law ever was given. Paul talks back and forth about how the law doesn't nullify the promise and the promise isn't contrary to the law and.... Or maybe I have those backwards, I get a bit lost trying to make heads or tails of it all, but here's something I saw: For if the inheritance comes from the law, it no longer comes from the promise, but God gave it to Abraham through a promise. - Galatians 3:18. 

I was asked a little while back, "Aren't you tired of striving?". And I am, I really am, and yet I keep picking it back up. "Are you so foolish? Having begun in the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?...Does God give you the Spirit and work miracles among you by the works of the law, or by hearing with faith?" - Galatians 3:3&5

Why God gave me a promise that I'll have a biological daughter, I don't know. And when will it happen? I'm not sure. But it won't be by works. It won't be through the law. The promise of her will only come by faith in Him who has promised that she will be. I need to quit thinking I'm not enough, honestly I'm not and I never will be, but God knew that, and knows that, and He promised her anyway because I'm His daughter, and daughter is enough for Him.

Are You A Jonah?

"...Praise the Lord, for His mercy endures forever." (2 Chronicles 20:21)

Let us not be like Jonah resenting God's mercy towards others. Let us not sit waiting and watching for His fire and brimstone to fall already. We stop and look at history and declare that we know better, that they'll never change, that it'll just happen again, that surely God will see our side of things and give them what they deserve. 

"Jonah was a prophet (oo-oo)
but he really never got it (sad but true)
and if you watch him you can spot it (a-doodley-doo)
he did not get the point!

Compassion and mercy from me to you and you to me
exactly what God wants to see and yes that is the point!" 

Jonah Was A Prophet - Jonah: A VeggieTales Movie

The Lord knows if birth parents will ever turn back to their old ways, but heaven forbid we be as Jonah waiting for their destruction to fall. They are living in a miracle right now having those kids back in their home. For real! The case started with wanting to terminate their parental rights from the get go, and now? Now they are looking to reinstate parental rights that were previously terminated. Absolute miracle where things are at today. I just read an article recently about birth mom and how she is a success story. They are doing well. Said she couldn't have made it this far without the support of her husband. They are doing well! It said she is an inspiration to others. Guys?!? Let us not be like Jonah! I feel I have encouraged others to be as Jonah over and over again because I myself resent the Lord's mercy sometimes for others, (for them). This is where it all started... 

The very first time I felt the Lord speak to me, it was His mercy for them, for her. I was Jonah!!! It was one of the worst days of my life. Coming home from a visit, Darrell 4 months old in the back seat of the car sleeping, me crying angry tears yelling at God. You see that day everything had changed. The visit before that one I was being encouraged to pick out a new name for him, (at the time his name was the same as his birth dad's). I was being encouraged to pick out a new name for him, because, you know, you'll get to adopt him. Mom had missed that visit, it was just me, the workers, Darrell's older siblings, and the mama who would be adopting them soon. (Dad hadn't been to any visits yet because he'd been in jail). Between that visit and the next, we had the name Darrell picked out. Loved it! Called him by it a few times. We're gonna get to adopt him! History says we will!!!

Fast forward to one of the worst days of my life... Birth mom is in rehab now and the office has turned on me. Today it was like everything I did was wrong, feeling yelled at because there's no socks on his feet. And mom? Everything she did was right. It was a long day. It was a horrible day. I was told at one point I could go home if I needed to, (I lived an hour and a half away), I felt sure if I left they'd find new placement for him closer to her. I felt completely replaceable.

Driving home from that visit, in the dark, him in the back seat, tears streaming down my face, I was angry. "No! Not this one!! This one is mine. She can have more kids!! No!!!" I was so mad. She can get her act together later, not right now, this one is mine. And then I felt like God slapped me across the face with four words, "I love her too."

Mercy guys. Praise the Lord for His mercy endures forever.

His words put a mirror in front of my face and showed me how ugly selfish I was. I wanted her to fail. I wanted her to lose her child. I wanted her to keep messing up, at least for a little while longer, so I could keep for myself what God had given her.

I once read a meme, I think on mom's page, many years later that said, "There are people out there holding their breath waiting for you to fail - let them suffocate." I read that and I never forgot it. Why do we allow ourselves to be those people?

You know when Jonah went to sit on that hill that they'd already repented and changed their ways? The people had repented in ashes and sackcloth. The whole city. Revival had happened, things were different now. Things were good. The city of Nineveh was probably the biggest success story Jonah had ever seen, yet Jonah sat and watched for God to give them what they deserved for their history. He sat and watched for them to change back to their old ways, for God to realize He'd made a mistake, that He should have just wiped them out to begin with. Jonah didn't want to go in the first place to Nineveh, why? Because he knew the Lord was merciful. He knew God would forgive them.

I was dead set against working reunification again, why? Because I feared the Lord's mercy towards them. I went to a woman's retreat and we sang this song, Spirit Lead Me, and it said, "When You say release I'm letting go." And I cried again angry tears telling God, "No! Don't You dare ask me to work reunification again." And He said let go.

They've been gone several months now, there was a success story written about them, and I'm struggling to not be a Jonah surrounded by Jonahs I feel I've encouraged to be Jonahs. There are so many things I don't understand, so many things that don't make sense to me, but I know God doesn't want me sitting, waiting, and watching for them to fail. Compassion, love, mercy; those are always the right answer. And that's the God who we serve.

"...Lean not on your own understanding." (Proverbs 3:5)

"I don't trust my ways
I'm trading in my thoughts
I lay down everything
'Cause You're all that I want
I've landed on my knees
This is the cup You have for me
And even when it don't make sense
I wanna let Your Spirit lead

I'm done chasing feelings
Spirit lead me"

Spirit Lead Me - Influence Music and Michael Ketterer

----------------- 

The book of Jonah is a short book in the Bible, only 4 chapters long. I encourage you to look it up and read it in its entirety. Here's some images of my own Bible, it takes up less than 2 full pages. Let us not be Jonahs.

Expect Expecting

When I wrote, Things I Can't Deny, Yet I Try, I wrote what I felt I was supposed to write at the time. But now I look back and realize just how much I said things were one way and that they'd never change. I claimed the title of "barren" more than once as something that would always be me. I didn't say it everywhere, and that's not what I was going for, but still it's there.

Last week Pastor spoke on the man at the pool who had been laying there for years and years wishing to make it to the waters so that he could be healed (John 5). When Jesus shows up on the scene he asks him, "Do you want to be healed?". His first response wasn't yes. His first response was to give Jesus all the reasons he could NOT be healed.

Y'all infertility is all I've ever known. Do I want to be healed?!? Pastor mentioned how sometimes we don't ask for prayer because we are afraid people will pray and it won't happen. At the end of service he asked if anyone wanted to be prayed for to be healed, to come forward, and I thought of my barrenness, but I stayed in my seat. I've already been prayed for! I've already been healed! Right?!? I don't need to go forward and ask again for that, I just need to embrace that I've already been healed... But I sat and thought of the prayers that have already been prayed and I've yet to see them answered. 

Truth is, I stayed in my seat because I didn't want others to look at me and see nothing change. 

Here's a poem I wrote the other day for the Sisterhood of Infertility Bible study:

Elisha who is doing the class made it look all nice and pretty for sharing it with the group. It's funny how this blog of mine is all about stuff like that, and yet I didn't share that here. I mentioned to a friend the other day, and I think to my husband as well, that though I know people "know" about the prophetic word that I'll be pregnant because it's mentioned in my blog posts and I know people have read my blog.... I don't talk about it. I've not had many conversations with people about it. I'm scared they won't believe me, and they'll feed my doubts that it'll ever happen. 

The first place I mentioned that prophetic word here on my blog, I hoped no one would notice. It was the second half of a really long post, and then I wrote another post before I shared with anyone that I'd written more. For most people, I hoped they'd never see the second half of my post: The Third Tree & Me. I suppose if my plan worked and you never read it, you can go read it now.

Since it was out there though, and I'd broken the ice putting it on my blog at all, I slowly started to mention it more... Yet this poem I wrote and I didn't want to share here, and the fact that I've noticed that I don't really have much conversations with people about any of that, and the fact that I sat in my seat last Sunday with the thoughts that I had, it begs me to ask: 

Do I want to be healed? 

Am I ready to say goodbye to what I've always known? Am I ready for things to be different now? I ordered a crib for Irene! My little Ira-Belle, my promised child, my pregnancy of a little girl that's coming!!! But that's a pretty huge deal, if I set it up and people come over... They'll see it. Do I really want them to see it?

The day after I made my last post, I cleared out the spare room and set up the pack-n-play. I left the door open when I went to bed. It's time. It's time to move forward and see that as Irene's room, not as "theirs" anymore. And it hurts that it's not "theirs", but I want that room to be filled with HOPE, and not sorrow. Joy of things to come, and not the pain of the past that is no more. But the pack-n-play? It's temporary. I know me, I'll fold it up and put it away. I'll find some excuse to not have it around when others are here so I don't have to explain it, so they won't know, so that conversation never starts.

Do I want to be healed?

I cleared out the room! I set up the pack-n-play! My boys all know about the outfit that was bought because God said I'll be pregnant and have a little girl. My boys all know what her name will be! I've told them!!! And yet... And yet the very next day, after I did that to the room and slept with that door open, I sat in my seat at church wondering if I should go up and be prayed for my "barrenness" to be healed?

Do I want to be healed?

Before the week was out, I ordered the bassinet. God that's my answer, my answer is yes. And I ordered one that's not an easy to fold up one, because I know I'd be tempted to stash it away. I did that! Yet I still feel that hesitancy in me to not let others know about it. 

Do I want to be healed?!

This week God called me out in church to be prayed for before the sermon even happened. Now everyone at church knows! If there was anyone in church that hadn't read my blog and found out here, or hadn't heard it from someone else already, they've heard it now. God says I'm not barren anymore! God says that title is no longer mine! God says my womb is open!!! God says!!!! Funny, the sermon that Pastor gave afterwards was about the lame man who was brought to Jesus by his friends to be healed. I did not seek out this prayer, Pastor didn't orchestrate it, a friend interrupted the flow of service to call others together to pray for me and my womb and to tell me I'm not barren anymore and I need to come out of agreement with barrenness and... yeah.. They all heard it, they all know, it's time to be expecting that I'm expecting.

When you read the story about the healing of the lame man who was brought to Jesus by his friends in Mark 2, I notice that the lame man doesn't say a word. And I notice that the first words spoken to him by Jesus are not the words that healed him physically. Jesus looked at the faith of his friends and then said to the lame man, "Son, your sins are forgiven you." I wonder if it wasn't the lame man's idea to be brought to Jesus. I wonder if the lame man didn't seek out his healing. I wonder if his healing was all his friends idea. He might have even argued against it. Whether or not he did, imagine him silently going along with their idea to bring him to Jesus all the while thinking to himself, "There's no point. I've been this way for so long. Everyone says that it's because I've sinned that I'm this way. Maybe they are right. Maybe if I hadn't of done this... or that... That's got to be it. He can't heal me, He won't heal me, it won't work, we won't even make it to Him, my sin is just too much, it's all my fault, I..." And then they get there, it doesn't look like they're going to make it to Jesus after all, the crowd is just too much, "I knew it, this venture was hopeless to begin with, maybe we should just turn back..." But he stays silent as his friends insist and make a way through the crowd, and make a way through the roof, and they put him right directly at Jesus' feet. Here's the moment, here it is, when everyone is going to see I'm a sinner and I'm not worthy... "Son, your sins are forgiven you." And the lame man breaks into silent tears as THAT is what he needed to hear. "He sees me, He called me His son, He loves me, He accepts me right where I'm at, it's not my fault, if I never walk it's okay because it's not because I'm not worthy because of my sin like everyone has told me." Before Jesus healed him physically, He addressed what might have kept him from his healing, a thought pattern that said it could never be done.

I am His daughter. He sees me, He loves me, and He has chosen me and called me out to be blessed with a pregnancy when I had quit asking for it. When I quit believing it could be done for me, He says it will. He says I am not barren anymore, I will not be identified by that word any longer. It's not me.

So hello, my name is Suzanna, I am a daughter of God, a blessed wife, and a mother to three amazing boys and a precious little girl I'm standing in faith preparing now for her arrival. ♡

If I Can Just Ignore My Pain

Something I've been doing every night since they left, and something I don't feel ready to quit doing, is that every night I close their bedroom door. "Their" bedroom door. The bedroom that used to belong to the sister and baby brother of my adopted children. I closed it every night they were gone on visits too. When I wake up, it's the first thing I see. Just across the hall is their bedroom door. Open? Means I wake up seeing that it isn't their room anymore. When they were gone on visits? It meant seeing their empty beds. Either way, I hate it.

Here's a poem I wrote last week:

If I can just ignore my pain,

If I can just ignore that they were here,

If I can just avoid the pictures,

Maybe I can forget all of last year.

I once had six children,

Twice as much as my current three,

If I could just forget how much I loved them,

How much easier things could be.

I need to get the pictures back up,

I need to watch his or her favorite movie,

I need to talk more about them,

I need to not avoid my grieving.

There's so much to be said,

about being strong and moving on,

But sometimes I need to slow down,

and maybe hear their favorite songs.

It's ok to cry,

It's ok to grieve,

It's ok to remember,

all those hopes and future dreams.

It's ok to hold on for a moment,

and really feel the weight,

that we never got to getting,

an adoption date.

I want to kiss his little cheeks,

and hold her little hand,

and help him make his dreams come true,

in any way that I can.

I want to see his little skip,

and hear them call me mom,

and listen to her brothers groan,

as she asks again for the Barbie coffee shop song.

I last heard that song,

on the very day they left,

thinking on it now,

brings the tears I have kept.

I really do miss them,

but thoughts on them I try not to dwell,

It's also ok to be strong,

and just pray they're doing well.

It's been 2 and a half months since they moved out, and we haven't heard a word from them, or about them, since about a week after they left. Dad started sending texts asking for information that we weren't allowed to give, so we quit responding, and then there just hasn't been any more since. 

Almost 4 weeks ago the caseworker hand delivered a small box full of toys and letters to mom, dad, and the kids for us. The message the caseworker sent me afterwards said, "I delivered the box tonight. And I talked to ____ and ____ about getting with you and letting y'all see the kids. They seemed very open to it." Almost 4 weeks since I was sent those words, and we have yet to hear anything back.

My next "plan" is to try making contact again. Maybe send another box of letters? Maybe send the few more toys of theirs we've found? Maybe send them a message on Facebook? A friend request? Or maybe text them and invite them to join us at the park?

That last one is the one I want to do the most, and the one I want to do the least. I don't feel ready to see the kids again, and yet... I need to. It's only been 2 months and I can barely remember ever having had them here. Life has gone back to "normal" without them. Normal-ish anyway, we're still dealing with some anger and tantrums and whatnot, but mostly we have a new normal again now. Life is "normal" without them here. And like people who have a baby and the day after they arrive they can't imagine life without them..... I almost can't imagine them here anymore. It feels so distant. And there's not empty beds, or their stuff, or... I have pictures to prove they were here, but the memories feel almost like a dream. I need to hug them again, hear their little laughs, and feel for a moment just how deeply I love them and wish they were mine and allow my heart to ache to the core that they won't be going home with me......

It's good to move on and be strong and all that, but it's also good the days and moments that come and I just want to cry because I miss them. I welcome the moments the tears come, because other times I feel numb and fear they never will.