Thanksgiving was this past weekend. The holiday has always been a little depressing for me, (It’s been 12 years since I was with my family for Thanksgiving – since I left for college) but this year knowing our family is not complete, that baby Kroeker is an ocean away…didn’t help. I was all on my own to cook a turkey dinner and all the fixings. While my family appreciated it and we had a nice quiet weekend, it wasn’t the same.
I’ve been following a blog for many years of a mom in the States with 4 bio kids and 1 adopted daughter, and I remember going on the emotional journey with her a few years ago as she chronicled her adoption on her blog. I’m re-reading the adoption posts again that coincide with were we are in the process, and it’s so helpful. To know my feeling and frustrations and emotions are normal, to know I’m not alone in this crazy thing we’re doing…it’s wonderful. Adoption is a really hard really difficult process, and it feels very alone. I’m thankful for blogs and facebook groups and “virtual” support from friend/strangers who have walked this road before me. Here are some of her words that have resonated with me today.
I know it sounds crazy to some to be consumed with love for a child that I don’t have a name or face for, but that is the case. This wait. This unknown. This wondering where my little one is…alone? fed? safe? seen?……nothing could have prepared me for this.
So, I’m waiting. Still waiting. In the wait, I will sow the tears of separation. I’ll find ways to celebrate the bliss of today and beg God that soon I’ll be singing a new song of joy. (from here)
And so I give thanks, for all that I have, and for what is to come. It’s a complicated balance, aching and longing and finding contentment and joy here in the everyday too. A very good friend of mine gave me some good advice a few months back. She reminded me in all my thoughts and energy devoted to the adoption, to be careful not to miss what’s going on around me right now.
And so I’ll climb into each of the beds of my three at night and listen to the details of their day, pause what I’m doing to snuggle with my curly-haired three year old who constantly wants to snuggle, and hold little hands a little tighter as we walk to school. Though a part of my heart is in Africa, I have so much here I’m thankful for.
Happy Thanksgiving, little one.
(You can read the rest of Ashley’s Ann’s adoption blog archives here.)