Adoption Story: Brad and Corinne (again!)

Last week I shared the beginning of Brad and Corinne's story of their second adoption with Christian Adoption Consultants. If you missed her account of how God miraculously led them on a journey to parenthood for the second time, make sure to read part one here: In Their Own Words: An Adoptive Mama Shares her Journey to Motherhood.

Today I'm honored to share the second half of the story of sweet Naomi Rae...

Photos by Sohale Photography

As Brad and I took steps towards a second adoption, we had the joy of working again with our beloved social worker, Clair, and adoption consultant, Susan, who both had helped us bring Floyd home. People in this field of work are nothing short of saints, and we honestly have been blessed with the best in the biz. Paperwork for adoption is like an endless goose chase. Time and again, you'll think you finally have everything needed, only to find out you don't. But, by the end of August 2020, we were home study ready, and we were able to see possible expectant mama scenarios as September began. 

 

On Monday, September 14^th, we read through the second scenario we'd been sent. It looked terrific, but the scenario did not say whether the baby was a girl or a boy, and we would not know before being officially matched. I have wanted a daughter for a long time and honestly just had a little girl in my heart.  Of course, had I been able to get pregnant, I would not have been able to choose whether I was having a boy or girl. But one of the weird parts of adoption is having a choice in some of this stuff. While Brad was excited about this second expectant mama scenario and open to either a boy or a girl, I started feeling confused: Am I just running with this idea of a girl because it's what I want? Is Jesus asking us to veer in a different direction? What does He actually want us to do? I called on a few close friends to pray for peace and wisdom for us in this. There didn’t seem to be any urgency in the original scenario that required us to submit our profile in to present ASAP, so we decided to sleep on it and wait. 

 

That Wednesday, I received a text from our trusted consultant, Susan, saying, "Have you all decided if you will be presenting to Mariah? Her caseworker just reached out to me and said they were hoping to present Mariah with a family who was already raising a black child." We had thought we had several more days to make a decision. I remember telling Brad that I felt unsure of what to do. So we prayed, "Lord, we want to do what you want us to do. Would you give us some confirmation, a word, or something from someone we trust as to what we are to do?"  

 

While we were praying, the mauve chair I had ordered for the nursery (mauve obviously a perfect color for the girl-themed nursery I had envisioned) arrived at our front door by delivery. When I sent a quick text to my Bible study group and family to pray for us, I saw I had a voice text waiting for me from one of my dearest friends, Leah. Her message said, "Hey love, I was hesitant to share this with you because I am human and could totally be wrong, but since you asked me to pray Monday for you about the scenario with Mariah, the phrase, "This is Naomi, This is Naomi" keeps playing in my mind. Last night, during Bible study, I heard the phrase again, and my heart started racing. This morning I felt like it would be wrong for me to not share it with you."

 

As I played the text for Brad, we stared at each other, completely shocked. Brad said, "Well, if that wasn't the most direct answer to prayer of all time!" I called my Mom to tell her what had happened. Naturally, she's super protective of me and knows how deeply I desired to have a girl. She said, "Corinne, this is just another opportunity to trust the Lord. He is the one putting your family together. He knows what is in your heart." So with tears running down my face, I looked at Brad and told him that we should present. 

 

Brad and I talked about how there was no worst-case scenario: if this expectant mama were to choose us, it would result in a baby, a sibling for Floyd! At that moment, I realized that, more than specifically wanting a girl, I wanted what Jesus had for our family, which also made me realize how much Jesus had been healing my heart. Looking back, I see that the things He had for me all along. While they may have looked different than what I pictured, all have turned out to be far more abundant than I ever could have dreamed for myself. With fresh hope and gratitude, we sent in our profile and waited. 

 

A week later, we received an email from Mariah's caseworker, saying she really liked our family but would like to have a phone call with us that coming Sunday before deciding. The caseworker told us to come prepared with questions to help the conversation along since Mariah was soft-spoken. Given that Floyd’s birth mama was also very soft-spoken, we thought we knew what to expect. When I called Mariah that Sunday, she didn't pick up initially, rather, calling us back a couple of hours later. I picked up the phone as she said, "WHAT'S UP, YOU GUYS! I am SO excited to be talking with you! I don't even know what to ask you because I am just so excited about all of this!"

Brad and I looked at each other and were like, "Is this the right number?!" Conversation with her was so easy! She said things like, "I've always loved adoption. My mom adopted me when I was little, and I always had everything I needed because she was in my life. I know this is going to be a wonderful experience. I can't wait for you guys to come down – that's when our real relationship can begin!" 

Photo by Megan Schmitz Photography

Part of the adoption process included us making a profile book for expectant moms to look through that introduces our family (kind of like a little magazine about our family and our hopes, dreams, etc.). One of our book's photos was a shot of our feet, all of us wearing Jordans, with a pair of matching baby Jordans next to mine. Mariah said, "Those baby shoes in your book are girls' shoes, aren't they? Are you guys hoping to have a girl? Because I am having a girl!"  

 

Brad had to pick my jaw off the floor! We got off the phone, completely shocked! We had gone into that call hoping to put our best foot forward and ease any uncertainly Mariah might have IF she chose us. Instead, Mariah practically told us she'd already chosen us for her baby and that she was having a girl! A few days later, on September 30^th, we received official confirmation from the agency that we were legally and officially matched with Mariah! I was reminded of the word Beth shared with me a few years earlier, "End of September, you will be pregnant with a baby girl." If this wasn't pregnant with a baby girl for an infertile woman like myself, I'm not sure what was.  

I'm well acquainted with disappointment, and thus have a natural propensity to be wary of God really seeing me or honestly caring about the things in my heart. It turns out –Jesus not only see’s it all, but deeply cares. My desire to have a daughter was placed in my heart by Jesus Himself to lead us to Naomi.  He has been working through every single detail. Ecclesiastes 3:11 keeps coming to mind, "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart, yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end."

By the way, we are in our 8^th year of trying to have a baby. Did you know that the number eight in Scripture signifies new beginnings? A new beginning for our family, indeed! A few weeks ago, I told the ladies at my beautiful baby shower that the places in my life that had felt dead and hopeless seem to be blooming with life. It isn't because I have brought life to them; it is because Jesus has breathed on places full of familiar despair and brought His hope and resurrecting life as only He can.

 

All along, God wasn't leading me through painful places to disappoint or hurt me. He was after deeper healing, one I've desperately needed and would never have fathomed possible. As much as Naomi Rae, our Beautiful Understanding, brings healing just by her arrival, she brings with her a beautiful understanding to her Mama of Jesus' unending and abiding love for her (me). God IS a good Father who IS trustworthy and kind. Naomi has given me a broader and clearer lens of who Jesus truly is. Her story has shattered the distorted lenses I've used for years to look at God.  

 

A few weeks ago, Brad and I were talking, and Brad shared that in his quiet time that morning, he heard God speak something specific to him. He has been praying over some specific situations that we knew only God could heal. And yet to our human understanding, some of these circumstances seemed beyond reach; we had been praying over them for years, but they still seemed so broken. In his prayer time, as Brad was praying over these situations, he heard God say, “I am good; I bring beauty from ashes.” As Brad felt the Lord say this, God also brought to mind Floyd’s adoption. Brad shared that he felt God showing him that there are few things that demonstrate his ability to bring beauty from ashes than adoption. The circumstances that a birth mom faces that lead her to place her baby for adoption are often incredibly difficult and many times even impacted by systemic issues well beyond her control. For us as adoptive parents, part of the reason we pursue adoption is because of incredible brokenness and disappointment in our own lives. And yet, the Lord uses all of this brokenness to create such a beautiful story of redemption. Personally, there is nothing we’ve ever done which has brought us greater joy than adopting Floyd. And to think that we get to walk this path again with Naomi is so incredible. 

 

Friends, Jesus is actually for you!  He is Faithful. He never abandons. He brings beauty from ashes. He has actually given me more, just like He said. 

 

"Because of the LORD's great love, we are not consumed,

for His compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

Great is Your faithfulness.

I said to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore, I will wait for Him.

The Lord is good to those who hope is in Him."

Lamentations 3:22-23

 

        “Those who sow in tears will reap shouts of joy.”

Psalm 126:5

 

With all our love,

Corinne, Brad, Floyd, & Naomi

In Their Own Words: An Adoptive Mama Shares her Journey to Motherhood

When Brad and Corinne connected with me last summer about adopting again I was thrilled. It was an honor walking with them when they brought their son, Floyd home. You can read more about the amazing way this sweet boy joined their family in these posts: In Their Own Words: An Adoptive Family Chronicles Their Journey and Adoption Story: Brad and Corinne.

This time around was a bit of a whirlwind. They began with Christian Adoption Consultants at the end of July, were home study ready in September, were matched just weeks later, and were holding their daughter just after Thanksgiving. But God had been doing much much more in the years leading up to those few short months...

I'll be sharing Brad and Corinne's story again in two parts. The following is the sweet letter Corinne and Brad wrote to their family and friends, announcing the birth of their sweet daughter and the miraculous ways God worked in their hearts and lives.

Photos by Sohale Photography

It is with great joy that we officially introduce you to our daughter: 

Naomi Rae 

 

Reflecting on the story Jesus has been writing for years to bring us to this moment - it's overwhelming! I am thrilled to be able to share it with you finally. 

 

While we were going through fertility treatments, Brad and I had a specific name in mind for a biological baby. When that door closed and we opened the door of adoption, the name no longer felt right. This past spring, "Naomi" kept coming to mind out of the blue, which was a bit random to me. I mean, it's a beautiful name, but one that had never made it onto our list. As it kept returning to my mind, I began wondering if God was giving me a name for our next child. 

 

One day, I was chatting with my Mom about it when she said, "Corinne, Naomi is a family name! Naomi was Papa Floyd's best friend." I couldn't believe I had missed this connection entirely! Brad and I continued discussing names, landing confidently on Naomi Rae. Turns out, Naomi Rae means "Beautiful Understanding" or "Beautiful Precept," which felt so descriptive of our journey!

 

Back in January 2018, my dear friend from college, Beth, was going through 21 days of prayer and fasting with her church to begin the new year. Without telling me, she dedicated part of her fast specifically praying for a baby for me. She knew that we were once again in a season of begging Jesus to move, begging Him to expand our family somehow. As most of you know, we had been trying since 2012 to get pregnant with no luck. The Lord saw fit to put adoption on our hearts and then blessed us with Floyd in 2015. Since then we’ve always desired for him to grow up with a sibling. 

 

Fast forward seven months later to July 2018: Beth called me from an airport saying, "Corinne, I've hesitated to share this with you because I could be wrong. But in January, during our church fast, I used that time to fast and pray specifically for a baby for you. I felt like the Lord spoke something to me about you, but I have been unsure if I should share it with you, and I now feel like I should. I felt like the Lord said that you would be pregnant with a baby girl at the end of September." I remember getting off the phone with tears of relief streaming down my face as I shared my conversation with Brad. September was only three months away - maybe our time of waiting would soon be over!

 

Less than one month after my conversation with Beth, my body began showing signs of shutting down. No matter how much I tried to believe everything was fine, I was undeniably sick. Our house's previously unknown mold issue rendered me bedridden for ten days, barely able to eat or drink anything, and led our doctor to diagnose me with a lifelong autoimmune disorder, allowing me to be particularly susceptible to the natural toxins given off by mold. Brad and I unexpectedly found ourselves having to quickly leave behind our beloved house, most of our belongings, and our charming neighborhood community of seven years to move into a new, mold-free apartment across town, all in a span of a single weekend. To say that season was traumatic would be an understatement.  

 

By the time September 2018 rolled around, I was in the worst physical shape of my entire life. Not only was I now grieving the loss of our home and beloved community, but also the loss of a seemingly confirmed dream that I'd be pregnant by the end of that month. My body was in no shape to carry a pregnancy, let alone a healthy one. Brad and I had previously chatted about trying fertility treatment that fall, but it was now off the table as we needed to focus solely on my healing. It felt like every time we mustered up enough strength to hope again at the possibility of expanding our family, another door slammed in our face. My heart was beyond weary. Proverbs says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick," and I can't think of a better description of that season. 

As months passed, our time in that tiny apartment proved to be the season of rest and healing that my body and our hearts truly needed. God provided a path for us to sell our beloved home and we moved to our new home in August 2019.  Just that year, Brad’s work began offering fertility treatment as part of their benefits package, which is honestly unheard of.  And thanks to a clean environment and months of intentional rest and care, my body was now healthier than it had been in years!  So in September 2019, we went back to the fertility center. I remember walking into the office, the same office we had gone to for treatment years before, and instead of familiar dread, I felt hope, possibly even joy! If you've ever been in a fertility treatment waiting room, you know how heavy it feels. Every person sitting in that room has the same desire to have a child and all come with broken stories of hope deferred. As I saw myself in those people in that waiting room, it was like Jesus whispered, "Corinne, look how much I have healed your heart in these seven years." And so, with fresh hope, we began fertility treatment again.

 

First round - unsuccessful. Second round - my body began showing signs of another autoimmune shutdown response episode, so we had to cancel. Third round - we had to cancel again because of an unavoidable work trip for Brad. Around this same time, my beloved Papa Floyd's body began failing.  What was supposed to be our fourth attempt at treatment instead became our final moments with him in this life. On my final visit with Papa, the very last thing he said to me, just days before he went to be with Jesus, was, "Toots, where is your baby?  Have you had your baby yet?  Is it a girl or a boy?" I remember walking out of his room and breaking down in tears in the hall. You see, Papa had been praying daily for children for us for seven years. Last fall was saturated in grief. With heavy hearts, in December 2019, we decided to take a break from treatment again.

Photo by Megan Schmitz Photography

At this point, we considered gathering initial papers for a second adoption while pursuing one more round of fertility treatment. Hopefully, at least one door would open, right? However, when it became clear that the round had also failed, we decided to stop treatment. I simply couldn't handle trying another round; my heart was too fragile and utterly exhausted by disappointment. 

 

In my grieving, I remember feeling as though Jesus said to me, "I want to give you more." This honestly felt confusing. I remember coming home from church shortly after our final round had failed and sitting at my piano to try to process it all. Music has always been an important part of my life, but here's the thing – I am no songwriter or some avid piano player, just someone who used to play piano as a little girl. But as I sat at my piano that day, Jesus gave me an entire song: the lyrics, the melody, all of it. Nothing like it had ever happened to me before. This song has proven incredibly cathartic to me over this past year, as if Jesus knew I would need these words ingrained in my heart for the months to come.

 

Here Again

 

You say do not fear

'Cause You're already here

I don't have to worry

 

And You say that You're kind

That I can trust You here again

with my heart and all its pieces

 

Take off your armor

Let Me be your shield

Take off your worry

Let Me be your peace

Take off disappointment

I see you here

Take off despair

Let Me fill you again with joy

My joy

 

I'm not scared of your fears

I have bottled your tears

I promise

Hope won't let you go

I am binding your wounds

I am making you new

I promise

I'm not finished with you

 

I am turning the page

I will show you the way

Trust Me, Trust Me here again

Time has not been lost

I've counted the cost

Trust Me, Trust Me here again

 

So I found You here

Just like You said I would

Looking back, I see Your story

 

Turns out, You were kind

Trading broken dreams for joy

You've always been faithful to me

Fast forward to March 2020. Brad and I went to Disney World with Floyd, along with Brad’s parents, a trip we will always treasure. Our final day there was Disney's final day open before COVID shut everything down. As the world closed, and we returned home to quarantine, we began paperwork for a home study for adoption #2. Being stuck at home due to COVID turned out to be perfect for knocking out mountains of paperwork!  

 

Our church has a prayer team who regularly spend time praying and listening to what God could be saying to our congregation. We believe that God from time to time will give a person what we term a “word,” often an actual word, message, or picture, that is meant to be a message for someone else. Of course as humans, we don’t always get these messages exactly right, but in grace we share and receive them and pray that God uses them as he sees fit. In our church, leadership would often share these "words" during service, but due to COVID, they had begun including them in our pastor's weekly email to our congregation. On April 30^th, I just happened to be reading through the prayer team's “words” for that week when I came across this: 

 

"I saw a young girl with curly red hair and freckles and a red dress. I think it is a picture from the childhood of someone that is now a grown woman. Life has been hard and seemingly unfair in so many ways. It's time for great hope and expectation!  The Lord is restoring your joy and innocence and completely washing away all guilt and shame. He calls you His Beloved Daughter and is restoring the years the locust have eaten. He will provide in very tangible and practical ways in your current situation."

 

I read it a few times, trying to convince myself it wasn't for me, but in my heart, I knew it was. Many of the scars I carry are related to wounds that happened when I was a little girl. People often called me Shirley Temple throughout my early childhood because I looked so much like her, and as you may remember, Shirley Temple always wore a red dress. I sent the prayer team's words to my mom and sister. Immediately, they both responded, "Corinne, this is YOU!" Little did any of us know just how incredibly accurate this word would prove itself to be as the year went on. 

 

Next week I'll share the second half of this amazing story with you; the answers to the questions and the prayers and how God had been working this whole time behind the scenes to do something incredible. Be sure to check back for the rest of the story!

A Message to a Birthmom, On Your Daughter's Birthday

I woke up this morning to a message from a sweet adoptive mama I've worked with in the past. It's their daughter's third birthday this morning and the day is filled with plans to celebrate her. But in the midst of the celebration, Krissy shared that she has another mama on her mind. Her daughter's birth mother. She chose to have a fairly closed adoption so several times a year, Krissy faithfully shares pictures and updates with the agency which are then shared with her daughter's birth mother. But their family longs for the day their daughter's birth mom might be ready for a more open relationship.

This morning, she wrote this beautiful letter to her daughter's birth mother. On the birthday of the daughter they share. With her blessing, it's an honor to share it with you today.

To the sweet momma that gave her the gift of life:
As her birthday approaches, you are on my mind more than usual. There's hardly a time I don't think of you, but in the weeks before her birthday, I think of and pray for you even more. I think of what you must have been going through. I think of what you were thinking and dreaming of for her as you felt her kick and move. I remember the day, exactly one month before she was born, when we found out you had chosen us. Our happiness and joy overshadowed by my mommas heart almost sensing your heartbreak.
So, today, I will hold her for you. I will kiss her chubby cheeks covered in icing. I will take so many pictures with you in mind. I will probably let her get away with more than I should, because her day is more than a birthday. It is the anniversary of a monumental, life altering day. A day that you made one of the hardest decisions of your life. A day that we, as mommas, held each other and cried like babies over this precious little girl that changed our lives forever.
So, with you on my heart, I will document every detail of this oh so special day. Photos I'll send, praying that you get them and see the love surrounding our girl. Then, when the day is done, and the cake has been washed off her chubby cheeks, we will pray. We will pray for you and talk about you and read "Tell Me Again About The Night I Was Born" and I'll do just that. I'll tell our sweet, brave, beautiful little girl about a sweet, brave, beautiful woman, and the monumental, life altering day that she went from your arms into mine. And then, with wet cheeks, I'll hold her and tell her just how much she's loved.
Happy birth day. You, sweet momma, are loved.

In Their Own Words: For This Child I Prayed

I heard this song for the first time over the weekend and knew I wanted to share it. Then I heard the story behind it and knew I wanted to share. Kelly beautifully captures the heart of hopeful parents and wrote a song based on Hannah's prayer in 1 Samuel. I love how it speaks to God's faithfulness for families in the wait.

Infertility.

Multiple miscarriages.

Failed adoption plans. 

We grow up thinking that those words will never be part of our narrative or our friends’ narratives, that we’ll never suffer the agony of longing for a child that still hasn’t come, but all too many sit in the harrowing, ugly, silent pain of that desolate darkness.

Maybe you're one of those precious souls sitting in that darkness.

No tiny onesies to buy, no bonding during late-night feedings, no abundance of baby snuggles — none of the joys of parenting are currently part of your story. Instead, there’s soul-crushing silence.

And while that deafening silence swirls around you like a constant storm that won’t let up, you may be feeling like there’s an even greater silence from God.

No sounds of baby coos or the pitter-patter of little feet running down the hallway; no heartwarming calls for “mama” or “dada”; no “I love you’s” as you breathe in the scent of freshly shampooed hair from the little one who is curled up in your lap before bedtime.

Just. Silence. 

The kind of sorrow that sneaks up on you in the dark as you try to fall asleep. The kind of sorrow that makes its way inside of your chest and quickly builds until it rises to take residence as a lump in your throat… Which eventually gives way to your devastating grief manifesting itself through heavy tears, guttural cries, and convulsive gasps that leave you breathless.

You’ve prayed, begged, and pleaded with God, and yet there’s waiting, waiting, and more waiting. Three months, six months, a year, two years, five years… The longer you wait, the more hopeless you feel, and the wait has induced a type of gut-wrenching sorrow that you never knew existed until now.

As you bring your knees to your chest and hug them tightly, you wonder how this will ever change.

It’s scary to hope. It requires trust. It requires faith – faith that things will get better, even though we don’t know when or how.

As the tears soak your neckline and the grief mercilessly sucks the air out of your lungs, you wonder how much more of this you can endure. “Where is God in all of this? If He’s the Giver of good gifts, why am I drowning in a sea of sorrow? Am I doing something wrong?...”

As you question your circumstances, your life, and maybe even your faith, you wonder if it’s worth it to keep persevering in prayer. You hear people telling you that you need to hold onto hope, but you know all too well now that ‘hope’ is often a four-letter word.

While I’ve never experienced this particular sorrow myself, I’ve witnessed it closely firsthand, and have had the honor of walking beside two of my dearest friends through each step of this arduous journey. After years of waiting, they finally have their beautiful bundle of joy, but the hardship that they endured to get there was heart-rending.

It forces us to break down the walls around our hearts – the ones that we’ve carefully and strategically built in order to protect ourselves from the pain. You know that if you choose hope as you continue to fight this draining infertility battle, you’ll have to continue to face the harsh reality of grief head-on, and that feels like too much to bear.

It’s overwhelming, exhausting, and terrifying, and my heart breaks for you.

After witnessing the immense pain that came from loss after loss; the deep sorrow, anguish, and unimaginable grief; the difficult conversations they had with God and with each other; the words from their hand-written letters to their future little one whom they hoped they would meet someday; the days filled with hope and the days filled with mind-numbing devastation…

The song is called “For This Child I Prayed,” and was also inspired by Hannah’s prayer of gratitude after struggling through years of infertility. After years of waiting, she finally received her precious baby boy, Samuel, and dedicated him to the Lord.

And then finally being able to celebrate the impending arrival of their sweet baby girl, a song was placed on my heart.

It’s a song that chronicles their suffering and loss, their longing and angst, their confusion and hope, their sorrow and faith, their prayers and pleas, and ultimately, their indescribable joy. It’s meant to capture the heartache of the valley, as well as a type of mountaintop joy that can only be born out of the depths of great sorrow.

While a six-minute song could never fully capture the highs and lows of walking through infertility, I hope that this song still resonates in your heart if you’ve been on (or are currently on) that same journey.

After holding her beloved son for the first time, she went to the tabernacle, offered a sacrifice of gratitude to the Lord, and proclaimed, “For this child I prayed, and the Lord has granted me what I have asked of Him.” (1 Samuel 1:27)

I know so many couples and families who have been affected by infertility, and if you’re one of them, my prayer is that this song will bring much-needed hope. If you’re courageously fighting this battle, I pray that you feel acknowledged, heard, and understood after listening to it.

If you've been trying to start a family, and are still waiting, this song is for you. 

If you’ve been trying to expand your family, and are still waiting, this song is for you. 

If you have gone through this journey, and are now on the other side of it, this song is for you.

If you’ve been trying for a long time, and are in the deepest part of the valley and wonder if your prayers will ever be answered, this song is for you.

If you’ve never gone through this journey, but are hurting for someone you love who IS going through it, this song is for you.

If you’re just starting out on this journey, and are at the beginning stages of fertility treatments or adoption plans, this song is for you.

If you’re nearing the end of this journey, and your answered prayer is going to arrive any day now, this song is for you.

If you’ve suffered a miscarriage or multiple miscarriages, and are grieving the loss of those angels as you bravely keep fighting this battle, this song is for you.

If you feel like no one understands what you’re going through, and it’s hard to describe the depths of your pain, this song is for you.

If you haven’t told anyone about this harrowing journey, and you and your spouse are living with this secret pain, this song is for you.

If your heart is grieving due to adoption plans that suddenly fell apart, this song is for you.

If it’s too hard to go to the baby shower, the birthday party, or the church service, and you can’t bring yourself to even get out of bed on those days, this song is for you.

If you’ve suffered heartache due to unsuccessful IVF treatments, and are grieving the loss of those angels as you bravely keep soldiering on, this song is for you.

If you go to a baby shower, a 1-year-old’s birthday party, or a Mother’s Day or Father’s Day church service with a smile on your face, but sob alone in your car on the way home, this song is for you.

The Lord is on your side, sweet friend. Even if you’re at the point where you can’t stomach the word “hope,” the Lord is still fighting for you.

If you have a mama heart or a daddy heart, and are struggling to cling to hope when it seems as though everyone around you has had their desires fulfilled, and you haven’t… This song is for you.

Hold on, dear one. Miracles are possible. When you allow yourself to grieve while simultaneously clinging to hope, even if your grip is slipping and you’re barely hanging on, the fear will eventually start to crumble and light will break through the cracks.

When you feel alone in your mourning or you feel like giving up, remember that there is One who hears, who understands, who comforts. My dear friend, when you weep, Jesus weeps with you. You can lay your broken dreams, your grief, your pain at His feet.

Keep persevering. Keep praying. Keep trying. You won’t be in this place forever. I don’t know how or when your precious one will arrive, but I do know this – GOD WILL NOT LEAVE YOU HERE.

He can do more than you could ever think to ask or imagine. You are loved. You are treasured. You are held by the Father. While I can’t claim to understand God’s timing and why some couples have to wait longer than others, I do know that there’s purpose in the pain, and that you are not alone.

Give Him your sadness, your anger, your confusion, your tears. He is waiting to embrace you, to mourn with you, to comfort you.

And while I’ve witnessed the depths of despair that infertility brings, I’ve also witnessed the height of the mountaintop joy that can come from that sorrow, and I am praying that soon you will experience that glorious mountaintop.

Even when your grief smothers the words that you desperately want to pray, and you bring nothing but tears before Him, know that those tears are not in vain. Those cries are ushered into heaven as precious prayers and broken hallelujahs, and the Holy Spirit is interceding on your behalf when all you can offer is a collection of teardrops in the palms of your hands.

Not only does Jesus grieve with you, but I do too. While I can’t say that I know the exact pain of infertility, I’ve witnessed it so closely in the lives of many who are precious to me, that I’ve almost felt as though I was going through it too.

Whether you’re praying for finalized adoption plans or a long-awaited pregnancy, there is hope, dear friend. There is always hope. I am hoping with you and for you, along with so many others. May we cling to this hope together, as we anticipate the joy that is to come.

“Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning… And let us hold unswervingly to the hope that we profess, for He who promised is faithful.” – Psalm 30:5b, Hebrews 10:23

Kelly O’Roark is freelance marketer, song writer, and musician from Louisville, Kentucky, and is a graduate of the State University of New York at Geneseo. She’s been playing the piano since the age of 10, and started writing lyrics and composing music at the age of 17. While she creates music as a hobby, she uses it as a ministry to bring hope, love, and encouragement to others in various seasons of life. 

She also has a passion for creative writing, and hopes to start a blog someday where she can share her faith and life experiences through both music and writing. She enjoys spending time with her family and friends, and is excited about her new, upcoming role as a first-time aunt!

In their Own Words: Insecurities and Open Adoption

I have the honor of working with Kelly on our team of consultants at Christian Adoption Consultants. She is becoming a dear friend and I especially appreciate her insight as an adoptive mama. Raising twin toddlers who keep her on her toes and working as an adoption consultant, Kelly has a beautiful perspective of adoption. Recently she shared her thoughts on open adoption and honestly and transparently shares how it intersected with her own insecurities. I'm thrilled to be sharing Kelly's thoughts today on the blog!

In the initial stages of the adoption process the thought of having an open adoption with a birth mother evoked some concerns and fear in our mind. At the time, our perception was heavily influenced by the media, our lack of education and a few Lifetime movies. But now having some personal experience in this relationship and as an adoption consultant who walks with families through the process, I understand the benefits of an open adoption to all three parties of the adoption triad.  Recently, I wrote a post debunking five myths commonly associated with an open adoption. Myths such as “open adoption is co-parenting” or  “open adoption is only beneficial to the birth family.” Today I will be discussing how our insecurities can play a role in negatively shaping the way we view an open adoption.

Early on in the process, I realized these misconceptions surrounding an open adoption not only stemmed from lack of education, but also my own deep rooted insecurities that had been brewing for many years as we struggled with infertility. I thought that if we had an open line of communication with a birth mother it would make me feel like less of a mother and be a blatant reminder of my infertility and empty womb. Perhaps I also believed the lie that an open adoption would somehow undermine my role as a mother. I quickly discovered a connection between my insecurities and the initial fear I had regarding an open adoption.

Throughout our struggle with infertility, I allowed my barrenness to define me. Many days I felt broken and the odd one out among my friends. There was a time when I equated “being a woman” with a growing bump and a positive pregnancy test. But when the growing bump never came and hundred of negative pregnancy tests later, my definition of “womanhood” didn’t fit. It was a lie. “There has to be more than this,” I said to God one night through tears after throwing another negative pregnancy test straight into the trashcan along with what seemed at the time, my hopes and dreams.

Over the next year the Lord carefully and lovingly removed the false identity I had unknowingly placed on myself. I was reminded through reading the Word, my personal suffering and talking with other friends that my identity is solely and explicitly found in Christ. For those who are a child of God, nothing from this world can take away the fullness that is found in Jesus Christ-not even an empty womb.

I’m grateful I had this “break through” before we started the adoption process, as I continued to carry this truth with me. Even so, reminders of my “old way of thinking” sometimes crept back in. When our home study provider began describing examples of what an open adoption looked like practically bitterness, insecurity and jealously stirred back up again. “I could never do that,” I secretly thought to myself. But, as we received education from our adoption consultant, read blog posts, listened to podcasts and heard stories from birth mothers, adoptees and other adoptive families we came to realize the benefits of an open adoption far outweighed any fears we had. We knew an open adoption wouldn’t be easy, but it would be worth it.

Where and who we find our identity in has a profound effect on the way we interact with others and respond to circumstances. When our identity is found in Christ-we are free to love others and embrace the uncharted waters  we may encounter without fear. Because my identity is rooted in Christ, and not on my role as a parent, I can embrace the beautiful reality that the twins have two mothers, with distinct roles, who love them immensely. Their first mama lovingly carried them for 9 months, brought them into this life and chose adoption for them. Their birth mother made me a mother. She gave them life and I have the privilege of raising them.  She chose us to be their parents because she felt it was in the best interest of her children. Can you imagine that kind of love? A kind of love and strength that it takes to place the baby who you carried in your tummy for 9 months, the baby who you felt kick, the baby you heard cry for the very first time, the baby who has your nose and your eyes, into the arms of another woman who her child will one day call “mama?” That is a self-sacrificing kind of love; a love I want my children to know.

Research indicates that on going communication with birth parents allows adoptees to have a deeper understanding of identity and where they came from, access to important genetic and medical information and a distinct understanding of why adoption was chosen, which can decrease feelings of abandonment and increase feelings of belonging. And so I propose this question: How could we as adoptive parents, knowing this truth, not take the opportunity to have an open adoption with our child’s/children’s birth mother if that option is laid before us? I’ve spoken with adoptive families who wish they had the opportunity to have an open adoption with their child’s birth family. They would give any thing to be able to answer some of their child’s lingering questions about where they came from.

If you were like us, and struggled with the thought of having an open adoption with your child’s birth family, I encourage you to take a few moments and examine yours fears, insecurities and concerns. Birth mothers have given adoptive families a piece of their heart, one that they are entrusting them with forever. There is so much love in that decision. Not only do I want my children to hear about her unconditional love from us , I want them to know her personally. In our mind, the more love the better.

Kelly Todd is a pastor’s wife living outside of Atlanta, Georgia. She's a twin mama of the sweetest little blessings, and works for Christian Adoption Consultants as an adoption consultant. She considers it a joy to help guide families through their own adoptive journey since CAC was an integral part of her own family's adoption story. You can find Kelly's original post here and follow her at Something Beautiful Here.

Repost: What To Expect When She's Not Expecting

With Father's Day around the corner, I wanted to share Colin's post again from a man's view of walking through infertility. (Also, stay tuned for an exciting update from their family later on the blog!)

Colin and Kendal are in the midst of their adoption journey and have chosen to share their experience and story at Finding Our Arrows, praying it will also encourage others. Today Colin shares transparently about how their struggle with infertility has impacted him as a husband and how he's learned to support his wife through it as well. I'm thrilled to share a man's perspective of infertility, grief, and hope.

I’m sorry, what? “There is less than a 2% chance you can naturally conceive a child.” No, no, you must be mistaken. This must be some cruel joke; after all, it is April Fool’s Day.  “Less than a 2% chance.” But we followed the plan – we both graduated college, I finished law school and passed the bar…we even recently started building a house! Now it is time to start building our family, too! All of our friends are pregnant – surely this is wrong! But the doctor wasn’t wrong. And on that day, April 1, 2014, our lives were turned upside down. 

For those husbands whose families are struggling with infertility and adoption, trying to cope with the heartache, and searching for what to do next all while attempting to faithfully lead their families through such a trying time. Guys, this post is for you. Trust me, I understand and can empathize with the challenges and struggles you are facing; with the feelings of doubt, anger, and confusion. And because of that, I wanted to share with you a few lessons God has taught me through our journey. I’m no expert, but these are just a few of the thoughts and perspectives I’ve gained from our experience thus far.

My first encouragement is men, if your wife is struggling with infertility, make sure you allow time to grieve. Ecclesiastes 3:4 says “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven…a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.”  Kendal and I received our infertility diagnosis in April 2014. At the same time, we were in the process of building our first home, so questions of wall color, furniture placement, and landscaping filled our minds. After closing on our home that June, our life settled down a bit. So, during a summer evening walk, and just a few months after receiving our tragic diagnosis, I brought up to Kendal the idea of adoption.  My comments were met with silence.

You see (spoiler alert), men and women think differently. Men are fixers and problem solvers.  In my mind, infertility + wanting a family = adoption.  This logically made sense to me.  But I missed the mourning and grieving part. Kendal wasn’t ready. She was still working and processing what such a diagnosis really meant. And I jumped waaaaaaay ahead of her, unrealistically expecting her to be on the same page as me. So men, take the time to grieve and mourn with your wife. And trust me, we did and still continue to do so, both together and individually. I still struggle with this, but I’m learning to stop, slow down, and just wait for her. We both wanted a family, and obviously both came to the decision of adoption, but take time to mourn and grieve with your spouse. Cry with her, hug her, love her. While adoption may be in your future, and perhaps it is God’s plan for you, it is ok to take the time to be sad. 

Secondly, realize that just because you made a plan, that doesn’t mean God has to fit Himself into it.  Proverbs 16:9 says “A man makes a plan in his heart, but God directs his path.” Kendal and I met while we were in college (Geaux Tigers!) and were engaged in December 2009. I was in law school at the time, so we weren’t “ready” for kids. But once I finished and passed the bar in 2012, we wanted to add to the two of us. We thought we were ready – it was just “time” to have children.  All our friends were pregnant and asking us when we would have children. They spoke as if it were a guaranteed outcome. But it just wasn’t happening for us. God wasn’t fitting Himself into our timeline – into what we thought we wanted and when we wanted it.

For two people who like plans, schedules, and being in control, this is a tough one to learn. God isn’t restricted to what our feeble minds can imagine, but just as He told the prophet Habakkuk, He is “doing a work…that you would not believe if told.” So, just remember, it is ok to not have the answers. Believe me, I know the pain of waiting and wanting a child and feeling so lonely when all your friends are pregnant and something just isn’t right.  But God is in control. The Proverbs writer puts it like this, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.” 

Lastly, above all else, and while it may be difficult to see at the moment, these struggles are just light and momentary. I know that sounds like nonsense while you are enduring your trials, but that is how the apostle Paul describes them in 2 Corinthians 4:17 when he writes “For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” In other words, Paul, writing with eternity in view, weighs his present trials against future glory and discovers his trials are actually working for him. So when your world seems to fall around you, when you and your wife are devastated by terrible news, remember that these experiences are paled in comparison with what is to come. And that is something to take hope in – your light and momentary struggles are producing something much better for you! And that is eternal rest with our Father in Heaven. 

I hope this post is helpful to you. Believe me, infertility and adoption isn’t just something you “get over” and move on from. But these are just a few of the many lessons I’ve learned which I hope will encourage you during your time of struggle. 

To follow along with Colin and Kendal's story, you can find their blog at Finding Our Arrows.