I stumbled upon this site while searching for a Bible study with an emphasis on adoption or infertility. It seems like it is just getting started, but will probably be a great resource! There is a six-week Bible Study based on Without Hope You are Hopeless! by Casey and Julie Ross. Here’s a synopsis of the theme for each study:
Study 1: Why us?
This study focuses on learning that you’re infertile and wondering, “What did we do to deserve this?’
Study 2: God “Owes” Us a Child
This study discusses how many couples who have led virtuous lives feel as if God owes them a child. It examines the Scripture from Genesis 1:28: God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it.’
Study 3: You Need People
This study talks about how, during the journey through infertility, couples need the support of people who are sensitive to their unique needs.
Study 4: Let It Out
This study centers around expressing your emotions in healthy ways.
Study 5: Learn to Laugh “Infertility stinks! But if you don’t learn to laugh at it from time to time, it will defeat you.”
This study encourages you to learn to laugh together as a couple about your infertility, in ways that will strengthen your marriage and help you cope with infertility.
Study 6: Without Hope, You are Hopeless
This study encourages readers to trust God and to develop an intimate relationship with Him that focuses on God’s faithfulness. God doesn’t always answer our prayers the way we desire, but that doesn’t mean we should give up trusting in Him.
If anyone is interested in doing this study with me, please let me know :)
Monday, May 26, 2008
Christian Support for Couples Facing Infertility or Pregnancy Loss
Sunday, May 25, 2008
What a Beautiful Post by Kristen...
This is a beautiful post by Kristen Laurence at her blog Small Treasures:
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Not "Our" Baby
I read this beautiful post today along with many of you, which brought back memories for me of the time when we "lost" our first baby through a failed adoption. My experience is a bit different from Diane's, but certainly the same on many grounds. For me the trial was, in an instant, the most painful I had ever endured, yet one of the most beautiful at the same time. It was my first experience with true joy in suffering, and my first realization of the miracle of loving God so much that it pleases you to offer Him your greatest treasure, your child.
We had been trying to conceive for six years, which seems like an eternity to an infertile couple. After having gone through years of infertility testing, various Church-approved treatments and much prayer without success, we began to walk the path of adoption. It was a hope-filled road, every step taken with excitement, joy and anticipation. And then it happened. We were linked with a birth-mother.
She was a young girl who simply found herself in an unfortunate situation, but her openness to life gave her the courage to bring her baby into this beautiful world. And she chose us. To bring her baby into our home, to love him, educate him and raise him in every way we would see fit. Yes, he was a boy. She had four months left in her pregnancy at the time we were chosen, and in that time we grew to love him as any parent loves his child. We gave him the name "Gabriel", prepared for his arrival with much prayer and excitement, two baby showers, Grandmas knitting blankets for him, thinking about him every waking moment of every day, and in the last days before his birth, "nesting"- cleaning the house top to bottom, inside ovens and cabinets. Friends knew that I wanted Gabriel to have the nutrition of breast milk, and they gave until our freezer was full. They scheduled dinners to be brought to us for weeks after his birth. And then, he was born.
We got the phone call early on Sunday morning, packed our belongings, a take-home outfit, diapers, wipes, bottles, and everything we would need to bring our baby home safely. He was born on the other side of the state, so we drove almost three hours to the hospital. When we arrived we were cautioned by the social worker that the mother seemed emotional. So we proceeded with caution, but optimism and hope. When we arrived in the hospital room, Michelle placed baby Gabriel in my arms for the first time. Words cannot describe the love and joy I felt as I held this precious infant in my arms. It was profound, and something I had never experienced before. I waited six years for this beautiful boy, sometimes patiently, sometimes not. And at that first moment when I looked at him, his face only inches away from mine, I realized this present joy was worth every minute of longing.
A lot happened during that first visit in the hospital room, Gabriel's extended family meeting us for the first time, asking us questions which need not be divulged here, but suffice it to say we remained cautious. But in my mind I truly believed that we would bring our baby home the next morning. So we checked into a local hotel, and prayed without cease. Just after midnight, the phone rang. The case worker told us that Michelle had changed her mind. She decided to keep her baby. We both fell to our knees on the floor, holding each other, and wept. A powerful image I will never forget. I vaguely remember being up all night, rocking back and forth in the fetal position, rosary clutched in hand, "Hail Mary, full of grace.....Hail Mary, full of grace.....Remember, oh most gracious Virgin Mary......" and on and on.
I will never be able to describe what it was like to drive that long road home with an empty car seat. But in the next few weeks I would move with God's grace from sorrow to joy, realizing for the first time that my "Gabriel" wasn't really mine at all. He belonged to the Father, Who allowed me to love him just enough to hold him twice, but to remain his "spiritual" mother for the rest of my life. I still pray for Gabriel, and his mother, though not as often as I should.
That sad loss four years ago is now but a faint memory - the pain is gone, but the spiritual joy and goodness gained remain. It taught me some of the most valuable truths in life: That the most profound joy one will experience in this life is indeed accompanied by great suffering. That these little ones of ours are entrusted to us, but they are in fact God's babies, whether we are allowed to hold them for five minutes, for eighteen years, or not at all. I learned the courage and compassion of my husband, and the strength of our marriage. The love of family, friends and many, many strangers who took up this cross with us. I don't ever take my girls for granted. I love every moment of mothering - the diaper changes, the temper tantrums, the nights I stay awake tending to a sick daughter, as well as the plethora of joyful moments. And I learned more fully than ever before, how quickly this world is passing and how the things we might cherish most in life will be gone sooner than we think. But the True Good for which we ultimately strive is Eternal, and will never fail us.
When an Adoption Falls Through and Fails
When an Adoption Falls Through and Fails
This is a good article!
Friday, May 23, 2008
Baby Showers
As most know ~ I am a teacher. While there are more and more men becoming teachers the field is still predominantly women. Do you see where I am going? There are nearly a dozen pregnant teachers in our building this year. I cope...I have no choice. I am happy for all of my pregnant colleagues. I am not so fragile that they can't talk about their pregnancies around me. However, baby showers are just too much for me to handle.
There was another baby shower thrown today and I did not attend. I sent my colleague an e-mail afterward and told her I want her to know it is not personal and that I just don't "do baby showers" right now. She responded that she totally understands. I always send a gift when the baby is born, but I still feel guilty for being a baby shower "no show". Is it wrong to skip baby showers? I would rather not go than run the risk of being emotionally overwhelmed and having to excuse myself. I don't think that would be fair to the mother-to-be who is being honored. So, bloggers ~ how do you handle showers?
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Interesting Article I Read About a Jewish Ritual
By Janet Ruth Falon
Anyone who has adopted a child knows that the process is complex and time consuming, filled with complicated paperwork, decision – making that forces the prospective adoptive parents to examine their core needs and beliefs, and waiting – a lot of waiting – that can last for months or sometimes, years. Especially if it follows years of unsuccessful infertility interventions, adoption is also an emotional "roller coaster," a mix of hope and frustration, longing and anxiety.
Happily, the majority of adoptions ultimately work out as planned, but sometimes, due to a wide variety of reasons, an adoption doesn't come to fruition. In many circles, a failed adoption is referred to as an adoption "miscarriage," an apt name in that a failed adoption is as devastating to hopeful adoptive parents as the loss of a biological child.
An adoption plan can come undone at any point, from before the baby is born, to several days – or even months – after the baby has been living with the adoptive parents. However and whenever this happens, it's a tremendous loss.
Just as many people don't fully appreciate the pain of miscarriage or stillbirth, neither do they understand the anguish of a failed adoption.
(This ritual is dedicated to Zoe Rayzel Falon-Mazer)
(NOTE: Each reading in this ritual is assigned to a "speaker." The "speaker" can be either or both of the adoptive parents, or friends, family members, spiritual leaders, or anyone the adoptive parents chose to include.)
Light two separate candles and hold them together, in one hand.
Speaker:
The Havdalah ceremony, used as a transition from the Sabbath to the rest of the week, is a ceremony of separation: A separation of holy from secular, of light from darkness, and of the day of rest from the days of creation. When we emerge from a Havadah ceremony we are refreshed and restored, the day of rest having nourished us so we can take on the demands of the workaday world. It is a Havdalah, a separation, that is expected and anticipated, one that has a regular place in our weekly cycle of life.
Speaker:
But today is different. Today we are feeling the pain of a separation that we never wanted and didn't expect. The child we thought was ours will never become a part of our family; we have to let him/her go. Let us dig deep into our hearts, beyond the anger and disappointment and anguish, and wish this child love, and a good life, even as we own the pain of not becoming his/her parents as we had expected and so fervently wanted.
Speaker:
Even as we acknowledge the grief that we feel so acutely right now, let us pray for the power to move on and to heal. Let us pray that we will soon be in the position to assess our situation, and for the strength to make good decisions. Let us pray that we don't succumb to bitterness and hopelessness; let us pray for the sweetness of love, which never fails.
Blessed is the Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe, Creator of the Fruit of the Vine and of all sweet things.
(Circulate the wine.)
Speaker:
Tradition holds that each person receives an extra soul during the Sabbath, and that we pass around a spice box at the end of Sabbath so that the scent of the spices revives us, and strengthens us to go on without that extra soul. We, too, today, are aware of our loss - but this is the loss of a presence that we expected would be with us every day of the week. We lost an extra soul that had come into our family, a child who would bring tears and joy and magic to our lives. We, too, need replenishment right now. We, too, need to be reminded that there are many sources of rejuvenation in our world. But because our loss is also bitter, we will also inhale the odor of a lemon, twinning it with the sweet spices.
Blessed is the Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe, Creator of all the Spices and of all things that revive and rejuvenate us.
(Circulate a lemon that has been studded with cloves, or some other sweet-and-bitter combination.)
Speaker:
Although each of these candles shines brightly on its own, their glow is even stronger when they burn together. But the child who we imagined would bring more light into our lives is not going to join our family. He/she will go on a separate life journey, one that we hope will sustain and strengthen his/her own unique light. We, too, will continue to shine our own light, but we will miss this special little flame that we imagined would join our own and help us, as a family, burn brighter.
(Separate the two candles, and hold one in each hand.)
Speaker:
Let us take the love that we have inside us – the love that we were so ready to give to this child who will never be ours – and give it to ourselves and each other, especially right now as we hurt so badly from the sharp pain of our loss. Let us remember that love is a well that is never depleted, and that it will always be there for us to draw from as we heal, and as we make decisions about the future of our family.
Blessed is the Lord our God, ruler of the Universe, who wants us each to heal, grow, and love.
(Both candles are extinguished in the wine.)
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Join Our Book Group!
I just created a book discussion group centered around Adoption Education and Reform for anyone who is interested in adoption. I hope to have open and honest conversations from mulitple viewpoints and perspectives.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Like the New Look?
Friday, May 9, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Mother’s Day: The Hardest Holiday of the Year
Mother’s Day is the most difficult holiday of the year for me as the focus is completely on mothers. The other holidays are hard too, but there are alternatives to focus on; For Christmas I focus on the birth of Christ and for Easter I focus on the resurrection. Mother’s Day, well – there is only one focus…mothers. I am painfully aware on that day of what I am not and do not have. It is hard not to be filled with bitterness and envy of what other women have that comes so seemingly easy to them. I have a distorted perception of every other woman in the world easily becoming a mother through birth or adoption. Other adoptions seem to go flawlessly, in my eyes, as ours was the epitome of what others pray doesn’t happen to them. I realize these are irrational thoughts and that others do not have an easy journey to motherhood and I am not alone. However, it certainly feels like the loneliest place on earth when it is you longing to be a mother…especially on Mother’s Day.
A friend of mine recently invited me to her daughter’s Communion. I feel like a real loser – I never even responded to the invitation! It is like I just can’t deal with it at all…so I avoid it altogether. I don’t want to have to make the phone call explaining why we can’t come. I don’t want to be pitied or seen as pathetic for not being able to socialize. Yet, I hope my friends understand and do not judge us for our inability to face the social situations which feel like torture for us. We are not trying to be selfish; we are attempting self-preservation. Only those who have walked in these shoes can understand how emotionally exhausting such social situations can be. You dread the questions:
“Have you tried…”
“Why don’t you just adopt from Africa?”
“Why didn’t you try to adopt from the US?”
“What are you going to do now?”
And then there are the standard comments and stories:
“I know a friend of a friend that got pregnant right after they adopted.”
“It is so sad that all these unfit women can get pregnant when they blink and yet people like you and Joe can’t.”
“Maybe it’s stress or _____________.”
“I read somewhere that ___________________.”
Now, needless to say everyone will advise you that these folks are just trying to be nice. Yes, that is why we grit our teeth and smile and nod graciously. All the while it is using up every ounce of our emotional and psychic energy to keep this front up. Imagine keeping that up for five to six hours and you will understand why these events are so difficult.
Then there are people who feel you just won’t be happy no matter what they say or do. Perhaps they are right. They don’t know if they should ask or say nothing. They fear if they don’t ask anything we will think they don’t care. I have found the best thing to say is “If there is anything I can do I am here” or “Please know that I am here to listen if you need to talk.” These comments mean the world to us.
I am curious if we are the exception to the rule on the issue of socializing. Has anyone else found that they prefer being alone and avoid social situations?