Sunday, November 9, 2008

Everything I ever needed to know, I learned from adoption.


I have learned more lessons about God, his love for us, prayers, and just about every Gospel principle we have been taught or tried to learn, had our family not been blessed by adoption.

Were you aware that it is Adoption Awareness month? Fellow mommy bloggers, some adoptive some not, have started writing about adoption every day. I've wanted to get in on the action but sometimes there's just so much to say that you get stuck. I think I'm un-stuck and ready to spill it. Are you ready? Because you're going to have to be ready for this. You might want to sit down and get comfortable. When I un-stick about adoption, I have a hard time stopping.

I forget from day to day that Scrunch is not "mine" biologically, and yet I think about adoption all the time. I have to stop myself from telling everyone I meet on the street that she's adopted. I can't tell you the number of times I've had to bite my tongue because I'm not sure that the check out line at Bel Air is the right place and time to bear my testimony of adoption. Not because I'm uncomfortable, but because I want everyone to understand how incredibly amazing and cool adoption is. It's not that our story is so spectacular. But to me it is sacred. So sacred that I hesitate to tell it, but more than that I want to write it so as Scrunch grows she will hopefully feel how incredibly amazing and cool adoption is.

Since I'm going to write it, someone might as well read it. And I know that I cry every time I read someones adoption story.

Everyone needs a good cry every once in a while.

This is part of the beginning of our story.

"8 But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right. 9 But if it be not right you shall have no such feelings, but you shall have a stupor of thought..." Doctrine and Covenant 9:8

I have always loved that scripture. Being one who does not converse with angels, it is how I have known or not known throughout my life that Heavenly Father has answered my prayers.

At one point I hated the scripture. No not hated, loathed it. Just over a year ago I was sitting in the temple praying and stupor doesn't even begin to describe the utter nothingness I felt. I had gone to the temple for one of the first times in my life with a specific purpose other than to check the box of regular temple attendance. I sat there and cried because I felt nothing. Take that back. I felt a lot of things, but definitely not what you would call a "burning bosom."

I kept thinking this scripture over and over. I was so angry. I learned that you don't get struck down in the temple for thinking really angry and hurting thoughts. I was mad at the birthfather, I was mad at God (really mad at Him.) I was mad at my husband for not being a millionaire or a family law attorney. I bawled throughout the session. And even though He knew I was mad, He didn't reciprocate. He let me hurt and be upset, and answered my prayer anyway.

I had my answer all right. Malea was not our daughter and she would not be coming home to us. I should not have been surprised when three days later she was born and I didn't get a call. Knowing my answer, I had pretended anyway and packed the diaper bag and left the car seat in the car. Just because you get an answer, it can take a minute to be ready to deal with it.

Things were rough for a little bit. I was angry and felt ripped off, even a little depressed. My mom called me what felt like every few hours to check on me, and my husband was worried. This lasted for about three days. And for three days I don't think I got off the couch. Even Jedi was worried. His big old head didn't leave my side and Ani was my pillow the whole time. One of my greatest comforts have been these big PIA creations. I don't care if you laugh. I know, and people who count know, that they were sent to me. All dogs go to heaven. But I digress. At any rate, I knew that God had answered my prayer. Just not the answer I had been hoping for.

A few days later I went to breakfast with the IFC and I remember Holly saying, "I'm kind of amazed at how well you are doing." Actually I was kind of amazed too. I just woke up one morning and knew we were going to be okay. One of the smallest miracles of a whole series of miracles that would come was just knowing that God answered my prayers. Even with crappy answers.

The whole stupor of thought experience was such a contrast to when just a little over a month later my bosom burned from the moment I got "the call."

(Now you're dying for what comes next, but I think I can finally go back to sleep so you'll have to be patient. Another lesson I learned through adoption.)


northslopegang said...

When children are blessed to be part of your family it doesn't matter where they originated from. God has a purpose for them and he places them with the right family. We have had so many people tell us that Blake looks like his DAD and as many that say he doesn't, then we explain that he came to our family through another route and it's okay. He is more special because of this.

Holly said...

Oh man I love adoption stories!! I know yours by heart, as you know mine, but I love hearing it EVERY time! I'm on pins & needles to hear what happens next....

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