Things I Can't Deny, Yet I Try

I've realized recently that there are a couple of very important aspects of my story that I've been in denial over existing for quite some time. One is that I'm a "barren" woman. Or at least I have been for the last 16 years, I might not be anymore. But those 16 years? They exist. They exist and they have helped in shaping me into who I am today. But I've been in denial and have masked my infertility with my children for the last (almost) 10 years. And my children? The second thing I've been in denial over goes with the first, that my children aren't biologically mine. My kids were "foster" kids, and now I have three that are forever mine. Foster? Don't much care for that word either. My kids feel like mine, and I want to forget that foster was ever a part of it. This last time being a foster parent? I felt it so much more! I love when I go out in public and people ask me "are they all yours?" and I proudly reply "yes." This time though? I felt a kink in my mask that people might not believe me anymore me trying to claim them as all biologically mine. Maybe that's not what people are asking when they ask that, maybe biologically isn't at all on their minds, but with my barrenness? It's always on mine. That's always where my mind goes, wondering biologically if all the kids are mom's kids. If I were to ever ask that, that's what I'm wondering, did you birth all these children? I love my mask. I love thinking that people think I've birthed all these kids! But this last time I felt a kink in my mask as one of my precious children this time around was bi-racial. That gorgeous little darker skinned boy with the most beautiful smile in the world (I can't help myself thinking toddlers have the most precious smiles), yep! He's mine! I would say yes to that question about all my kids being mine, and then I would wonder if they then saw him and didn't believe me. My kids might not look much like me, but that one particular boy was obviously not the product of my husband and I together. If all these kids are mine biologically, then something must have happened that this boy has a different dad...

     I loved going to a new church and people not knowing my kids were adopted. Them being adopted is NOT their defining description. But I will intentionally keep that quiet as long as I can. Worst part was, when we started going there, the youngest wasn't adopted yet, and then he started having weekend visits with his birth mom... I could have lost him, and him never return! And these people weren't a part of my support system at all because I didn't even bother to tell them he wasn't mine. I just let them wonder when he started not being there on Sunday mornings with us...

     We're in a different place now with those in our church, they know now. I let them know beforehand that our kids have other siblings out there. I let them know when I heard mama was pregnant again. And when the day came that their siblings joined our family, our church rejoiced in seeing us take up a whole pew with all our kids. They've loved us, and supported us, and have been praying for us, and when the kids left? They grieve with us too. There have been no ugly words from anyone about their birth parents. There have been words of concern as people pray that that their birth parents are able to overcome all that they'll need to overcome to be able to care for these kids. I wish I could have ignored that they were foster, but this was the most fostering foster care case we've ever had. That word got used a lot this time around as the kids were older and wanted to know why things were different for them than the others. Why did they go to visits, and the others didn't? Why did they go to public school, but the others got to be homeschooled? Why was our 4 year old boy allowed to come to mom and dad's bed in the middle of the night, but our 5 year old girl was told she couldn't climb into our bed? Because he's adopted and you're foster. It's against the rules, she can't! It doesn't matter if she's had a bad dream, or if she begs and begs me to lay down next to her when I put her to sleep, I'm not allowed to do that because she's "foster". Seemed like every where I turned, that word foster kept coming out making a defining line between biological siblings in our home. Did I mention they were ALL biological siblings?! But half were foster and half now had our last name. Constantly I felt reminded of that fact.

Anyway, where was I? Barren and foster; words I don't like, words I wish to ignore whenever possible. I got to ignore them for a time. I got to pretend like I had three precious boys that were biologically mine and that we never suffered through infertility or anything to get them. Then my family grew more, and it grew more in a way that I couldn't hide behind my masks anymore. Y'all, I'm tired. 

God asked me the other day, "Aren't you tired of striving?". YES!!!! Yes I am. I'm not even sure what I'm striving with, but I know I'm tired. I'm so tired. "Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28) Rest sounds so good! Jared and I both recently were wondering what that word "rest" means in that verse. Jared looked it up and it means "pause". And I want to cry! Even though we all know that rest means to take a break, somehow that word pause just seems so much worse. Because when I think pause? All I can think is how it'll resume and I'm not ready. Guys I want them back so bad!!!!!!!!!!! Please don't think I don't love them and wish they were still here. But guys? I also selfishly think.... can it wait a while? It wouldn't hurt if it takes a while before they come back.... 

Matthew 11:28 Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

It's funny, when I quoted this scripture to my husband this morning, I quoted what I remembered of verse 28 and 30, I completely forgot about verse 29. I remembered that His yoke is easy, and His burden is light, but I completely forgot how we are to take His yoke upon us. How do we partner up with Him so that we aren't carrying the burden alone anymore? How do we find rest for our souls? We let Him teach us. And if we let Him teach us? He says we WILL find rest for our souls. I wonder if that other word for rest is the same as the first word for rest... I just want to breathe again. 

Tonight is my first online Bible study with the Sisterhood of Infertility that I signed up for. I almost didn't sign up for it, because last year God said that I'm going to be pregnant! And so, maybe I am now? And if I am now, or soon will be, then why should I join a Bible study that's studying the barren women of the Bible? Why should I join in on a group of women studying together that are infertile? That's not me anymore! Maybe I've held my breath long enough and can come back out from under this rock of infertility and pretend like it hasn't been weighing on me all these years because it's finally gone! But you know what? Those years will always have a defining role in my life. I am who I am today because I was once... And when the time comes that I can tell you all that I'm pregnant? I will have even more in common with most of those women we will be studying about, because like Sarah, and Rebecca, and Elizabeth and more, I won't stay barren. But my barrenness? That part of their story was never forgotten. My being barren for however many years will be a part of my testimony about what God can do.

And on another note, I'm reading a devotional right now, Filled by Jamie C. Finn. I've been wanting to get it for a while, and finally did. On the front cover though it says, "60 Devotions for the Foster Parent's Heart". And I want to gag on that word foster because... That's not me anymore? We don't have any foster kids anymore, and even when they were foster I never liked thinking of them as "foster", and... But that is a part of my story. And there are things that she understands from her viewpoint that many others just don't get. I follow her on Facebook and know her heart, that's why I wanted to get her book! She's dealt with so many things, many things that we never did, and many things that mirror our own heartbreaks, and.... And I almost didn't get it because of this word "foster" that I wish I could ignore. It's a part of my story. A defining part of my story. I was a foster mom for almost 10 years, and the trials and hardships and heartbreaks that we went through will always have an affect on our lives. And you know what?! The beauty on the other side will be a testimony of what God can do.

It's time for me to embrace these defining words, instead of trying to ignore that they exist. I think we probably all have words that are a part of who we are, that we wish weren't true, but regardless of our feelings, those things will always remain. We can either learn to embrace who God created us to be and choose to believe these are NOT flaws in His design, or we can ignore them and pretend these labels don't exist and strive to keep ourselves masked to the world. I'm tired of striving. So...

Hi, my name is Suzanna. My husband and I have been barren for the last 16 years. This blog was created because I needed an outlet for dealing with emotions due to infertility (I refer to this sometimes as my old infertility blog, because that's why it was created). My husband and I have adopted 3 amazing brothers through foster care, a world that I sometimes wish I still knew nothing about, but a world God wanted me to be a part of. God has given me a new heart throughout our journey as foster parents, a heart that is still learning and growing, but definitely different than it started out. Whether or not the words "barren" or "foster" currently apply to my situation in life, they will always be defining aspects of how God brought me to be who I am today. 

Missed More

Things are so very much different this time around us having foster kids, even with these same kids that we had previously. Last time they weren't school age yet, so all the kids stayed home with me. But this time the kids were older, so this time they have school teachers that will miss them, a school counselor, classmates, a bus driver, kids on the bus, and probably various other people at school who will miss them too. This time they have teachers who want to give them a going away party. They will be missed by more, because they were loved by more. 

Last time we were going to a church that didn't invest in us and our family. Last time these two were in a Sunday school class together, only those two from our family in that age group, and when they left? I wasn't asked where they went. Weeks went by before anyone asked me about my other kids who were missing. This time? This time I grieve at how many at church will miss them!!! Last week they got to be at church with us again because it was a week long visit, and visit didn't start until after church time that day. People at church were so happy to see them. Their Sunday school teacher asked if one of them could sing with her that morning, I know it's because she's missed him. The Pastor's wife, she's told me how much she'll miss his hugs. The Pastor is like a grandpa to our kiddos, and he tears up and grieves with us when they aren't around. The nursery lady misses our youngest when he's not there and wants to come visit us before they leave so she can see him again. They.... So many!!!! My daughter and my other two boys will be missed!!!! And they already are missed. They will be missed more, because they were loved by more.

It hurts to share them with others, because I don't want others to know this pain. I didn't want to join a homeschool group until all my kids were "mine". I didn't want to introduce kids that might later have a different name. I wanted to pretend for a moment that we were a normal family? That ours wasn't pieced together through years of back and forth with foster care and later mended together with adoption and.... I just wanted to present the finished quilt or whatever and not let people see the mess as it was being created. So I waited, and waited, and waited.... And then I heard of a mom's night out and thought, I could do that! I wouldn't HAVE to tell them anything. And the kids wouldn't be with me meeting anyone. And then... And then I went and I couldn't keep it secret. When I told how many kids I have, some comment was made about how great I look for having so many kids, or couldn't I keep my legs together, or man my husband must love me, I don't know, lol. I really don't remember what the comment was, I've heard a few over the years. Anyway, there it was! The easy opening for me to confess the truth about how my kids aren't biologically mine. Do I keep it secret for a little while? Do I let them think we're "normal" for right now? Do I let that mask stay, or do I reveal myself for who I really am and be ME from the very beginning with these new ladies I hope to make at least one friend with? And I told. I TOLD!!! I opened up and shared about our story and how I hoped that we'd have TPR soon and an adoption date.... And later things changed. And those new ladies? I made more than one friend that night, and now I have more people who HURT with me. More people who ask how I'm doing. More people who have seen me cry. More people who.... I got this image the other day from one of them:

I have more people in my life this time around who love my kids simply because I love my kids, who might not even really know my kids at all. Which means they will be missed more, because they were loved by more through me. 

This stuff is hard. It's hard seeing people hurt. And their hurt, makes me hurt. And I have to remind myself that it's not my fault!!! It's not my fault that they hurt. Because it feels like my fault. If I hadn't of said yes to them coming here.... if I hadn't of opened up.... if I..... But I know there's no way we would have said no to them coming here. I could have kept quiet and not opened up so much, but then my friend goes and sends me that picture and I have to remind myself that it's ok to let others hurt with me....

I've cried a lot today. Today there's been talk about going away parties. In all our years of being foster parents, with all the goodbyes we've said, we've never had a going away party for any of our kids. I mentioned that to my husband and he said, that's because this time more people are invested in our family. And I started crying again as I told him that's what this post is about that I've been working on. That they will be missed more, because they were loved by more. 

Anyway, nuff said for now, goodnight.

You Make Everything Beautiful

There's this movie called Unsung Hero that all my kids love. I know why I love the movie, because it's my kind of movie, but I don't know why my kids love it. It's the story behind a family and how they got to being who they are today. The story behind Rebecca St. James, and For King & Country (who are Rebecca's little brothers). The story of their family.

I love movies and books that give me an inside view on things. A different kind of perspective. A glimpse into a world that I may never have known anything else about otherwise. I like movies about people like Helen Keller who was both deaf and blind, how?!?! How does someone like that ever function and survive and how in the world would you ever raise a child like that? And... And she became someone amazing?!?!?! She didn't just completely fall through the cracks? How?!?!?? Her story is amazing! I like stuff like that. I like movies about people with cancer and diseases and deformities. I like not only learning more about what the person they themselves go through, but also what things the family experiences as they face such difficulties in their lives. I want to learn more! I'm curious about all of it, but I also want to understand more. Know what else is crazy? Faith. People who have faith through it all. I think that's part of why I like the old testament stories of Abram/Abraham and David and such so much. Abraham might be in the hall of faith, BUT he did NOT start out there. He didn't!!!! He has a story that eventually brought him to being the person they remember him for. I'd like a story like that, I think, lol. I don't think who I am today is someone to be remembered in the hall of faith, I'm still trying to get away from wanting to make things happen myself instead of trusting God to be God. It's hard. Hard not to want to do whatever I can to MAKE what I want to happen happen. I can't do that. If God let's things happen that I want to happen when I'm trying SO HARD to make those things happen? Hello pride! Or maybe even regret. I have regrets from trying to make things happen last time around with kids staying or going, and I refuse to be that person again. No regrets! And if I get pregnant when I'm doing whatever I can to MAKE that happen? Even though I know that there is in no way that I could ever MAKE that happen, I still can see pride creeping in trying to tell me I did something that helped God make it happen. This stuff? It's going to be a "God thing" if they ever happen, not a me thing or a Jared thing or whatever, it'll be a God thing. I gotta get my hands off, and TRUST that He's got this. Anyway, about that movie, where was I going with this?...

In that movie, Unsung Hero, their family goes through a lot of hardships. They leave behind their home in Australia to come to America for a job, they get here and that job falls through, then they're broke and barely making it, but God keeps showing up around every corner to keep them going. Doors close, and doors open, and their family keeps pushing through. Why do my kids like this movie? Is it because it's something REAL? There's so much out there for entertainment and sometimes you just crave something more than the numb junk of the world, and this is real. This is a true story. Is it because of that? Is it because it's an origin story of a band that they like listening to on the radio? Is it because it features many songs that they already know and love? Maybe they like this movie because it's about a large family, and they too are one of many kids. Or maybe, maybe it's because it's a story of hope. The part my kids love the most is the song that the whole story leads up to: You Make Everything Beautiful by Rebecca St. James. Hope. It's hope. It's hope that what we are going through right now? God's going to make it beautiful in the end! Here's the lyrics:

Grant me serenity to accept things

The things I cannot change

Grant me the courage, Lord, to change what I can

Wisdom to know the difference

In my weakness You can shine

In Your strength I can fly and

And You make everything, everything beautiful

You make everything, everything new

You make everything, everything beautiful

In its time, in Your time

It's beautiful

Grant me serenity, Lord, and patience

For things will take time

Grant me freedom to walk a new path

And let me feel Your love

In my weakness You can shine

In Your strength I can fly and

And You make everything, everything beautiful

You make everything, everything new

You make everything, everything beautiful

In its time, in Your time

It's beautiful

Lifting open hands to You my Savior

Beautify my soul

Knowing You redeem my pain and failure

Purify my soul

Beautify my soul

And You make everything, everything beautiful

You make everything, everything new

You make everything, everything beautiful

In its time, in Your time

It's beautiful

When I step back and look at things, I think in the end God is going to make the story of our family beautiful. I don't know when, I'm not sure how, but I have hope that one day this story doesn't end in heartbreak and disappointment. He will make everything beautiful in its time, in His time, He will make it beautiful. 

Thoughts

Some of the sights I see now,

I won't see.

Like him riding his big sister's bike,

And wearing her hand-me-down jeans.

I listen to them fight,

While I rake the seed pod things,

And my eyes start tearing up,

As I think I'll miss hearing all these.

Reality starts to hit,

Of all the things that I will miss.

Two of the the three, 

The only ones put to bed by me...

I suppose I won't hear from the school anymore, 

And there will be no more waiting for the bus to arrive,

And we won't have transport from therapies anymore, 

All the kids hated that drive.

But I also won't hear them playing pretend,

And there won't be someone with a fascination with cops,

And I will no longer have someone crying at my ankles,

Like he has to have mama at all costs.

Empty seats at the table,

No point in me having a van, 

What will we do with the spare bedroom?

I'd rather not think about it if I can.

But here I think over and over,

How many toys will be gone,

How much laundry, how much fewer dishes,

And the little girl who likes her bedtime songs.

Life won't cost as much,

With so many less to feed,

And life will be so quiet,

When we're back down to three.

We can enjoy late night movies again, 

And go back to the theater,

And library days are so much better,

But I'd rather have two more hims and a her.

One day at a time,

They're not gone yet,

And God will give me the strength that I need,

When it's time I bet.

Because He always has, 

And He always will, 

And I'm pretty sure He will again,

But I forget that from time to time,

And life is hard my friend.

Something Deeper

I hurt, he hurts, we're all hurting. I fear sometimes sounding calloused. Maybe I am a bit? A bit calloused to the pain. I talk with a smile, or at least without tears or sighs, as I simply state facts about the case and where things sit these days. I talk much the same as I state the heartaches of the past, or my dread of the future, and without emotion you might not know it hurts either one. But it does, or at least it should, and I'm trying to allow myself to feel the pain. 

Pain I feel 

I have to hide, 

propriety says

it's got to stay inside, 

 

and then it stays, 

where it doesn't belong,

and then I'm back 

here on my blog...  

 

Hi y'all! 

Here's something I wrote to some family and friends last night:

Today was our second Sunday without them. 

First it's Sundays, then Saturday/Sunday, then Friday night through Sunday, the whole week of Thanksgiving, and a move out date in December. 

Many of you I've mentioned it to already, but saying it more broadly.... It makes it more real. A reality I don't want to think about. A reality that has me confused. A reality that... I don't even know. I don't know how to process it, so oftentimes I just don't. I don't process.

Today at church things were different. Everyone talked about how The Spirit was moving. Everyone felt it. So much was going on and so much happened and I.... I felt like I was on the outside looking in. I wasn't all there. I feel like there's a wall between me and my emotions sometimes. Today I was physically present, but I'm not sure where I was emotionally, mentally, spiritually, I don't know. I didn't feel connected.

Next week we have plans to go to an autumn festival type thing with their birth parents and their baby sister. It'll be on "their time" with visit, and end on "our time" to take the kids home with us. I look back and remember the day we met sissy in the hospital, it was a good day! But I was SO VERY emotionally DRAINED afterwards. I crashed and burned the next day, and the day after that. I think maybe it's the wearing the mask? The walking the line. The keeping small talk and pleasant talk and keeping it about the kids and trying not to say anything that'll offend and trying to not let anything that's said offend me and.... the list never ends. I think mostly it's keeping the energy like everything is fine and dandy. Walking that line and making it look easy? I'm not good with quiet, my siblings can attest to this. They get quiet with me, and next thing I'm just saying something awkward that fills the silence... So birth parents? I might not say something "awkward", but it's like I feel I HAVE to keep the small talk going. And birth mom? There's no give and take, it's all me. (Kinda like with my siblings sometimes... hey it's not all MY fault I get to saying awkward stuff, if they'd just start talking too... 😜 ).

Point is, I'm dreading our day together with them. Not because I think it'll be a bad day. Or a bad idea. Or... it's just heavy.

I feel some of my wall coming down typing this out to you guys. Thanks for listening.

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I told y'all in my post, God is Good, that we had "peace" after the court hearing in July. And we did! We had some. It was odd, but we had it. Everything had changed, and there was hurt, but there was also peace. There's a peace in knowing/feeling that God's got this. Knowing/believing that in the end? In the end things will be GOOD because HE'S got this. Here's a poem my husband wrote about it in July:

As the light fades

The tears begin to roll

My heart aches

The pang of loss takes its toll

There is pain in the mourning

In the dark of night

Contemplation stills my soul

Hope and fear, joy and pain

The memories roll

There is quiet in the mourning 

The light of dawn

Softening the pain of loss

My mind is calm

Though life's tempests toss

There is peace in the mourning 

As the sun dispels

The last vestige of night

The tears fade

With the morning light

There is joy in the mourning.

-------

I'm sure I had peace, I really did, at least for a week or two. And then? And then I think I've just become more and more distant from my emotions. Though I've tried to process all that happened in July, I've not processed it. Here's a few things I wrote in my notebook in September:

God You saw me cry, the first night I found out. You saw my tears flowing, couldn't keep them in the next day. You saw them, where are they now? I feel like I can't cry, not about that, where's the pain? How do I feel like I'd be ok if everything changed? Wouldn't I miss them? Wouldn't I hurt? Wouldn't there be a gaping hole in my chest again? I hurt when I think of others hurting, but what about my own pain? Do I feel anything? God You saw my tears, where are they now? I cry now as I fear those tears are gone. I hurt at the thought that they could leave them, I want to hurt at the thought that they could leave me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God if this is You, why? I was clinging to their names believing it means eventually they'll all be their names. All be adopted by us. But then... Where we are at in this case is also You. The names are from You, but us back in the boat of reunification? That's also You. I'm so confused. How do I fully support reunification when I also believe it won't last? Again? I'm overthinking again....

     I need to just keep rowing. Maybe You did give me all those names. And maybe they do mean eventually they'll all be adopted by us. And maybe You are the reason we are working reunification again. Maybe all these things can completely co-exist. I just need to quit thinking and just keep doing whatever it is I think You want me to be doing. I keep being told to watch and see what You are going to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You said, "Suzanna, the assignment hasn't changed."

What does that mean?!?!?! 

-------

We had court again in October, and though things changed in July, things have officially changed further as we were given an increasing visitation schedule with an end goal of the kids moving out of our home in December. Here's my writing through some of that....

God, what is the plan? As always, trust in Him. Trust in Him? Trust in Him?!? I don't get to know the plan. That's the point of trust! If you knew every detail, every jot and tiddle, every everything, where's the need for trust? God's got this, whether I feel it, know it, or not. Do I believe? Do I have faith? Do I trust? Has He brought me through before? Yes! Can He do it again? Yes! Will He? Why does my answer want to be, "I don't know."? That's where you have to trust! He has before, and He will again, and what He has spoken hasn't changed, and He hasn't changed, and He doesn't change, and... Do I trust Him?!? Do I trust Him with my heart and the heart of my kids? He's not going to play with it!!! My heart in His hands is the safest place it could ever be. I don't need to know the plan, I just need to trust He's got this.

-------

A poem of my husband's:

Silence

I longed for silence 

Not long ago

Now it's heavy

The burden grows

I feel its weight 

I hear its rebuke 

"You asked for silence!"

Oh I could puke

The quiet hours

The silent days

The painful whispers

There always

It's barely started

Now it's days

Then it's weeks

Then always? 

Where's the peace 

I found in mourning?

What's the chaos 

That is forming? 

Oh God! 

You were so near!

I need you!

Now I'm drowning in my fear!

"When I trust you

I don't need to understand "

Let me hide in your cloak

Hold me in your hands.

Fill the silence 

Lift my burden

Guide my steps 

Make them certain

‐------

So anyway, there's that! I hurt, he hurts, we all hurt. I didn't share the hurt of the kids, but there's definitely a lot of hurt going on with them too. Hurt, confusion, and chaos. 💔