Repost: Losing Their Childhood

Last week I was at a party and a friend introduced me. "This is Susan. She's married to Jamy and they have the most perfect family." I smiled and shook hands, but inwardly I had a million thoughts swirling in my head. It would have been awkward, but had I been honest in those moments, I would have corrected her. "Hi, I'm Susan. Actually our family has been through a lot - hell actually. Lovely to meet you!" The crazy thing is I think most of us have assumptions about others: the pristine lives we see on social media or sitting in a pew at church. And the reality is we could all probably introduce ourselves in a similar way: Hello, I'm Susan. I'm a hot mess most days. You?

I wrote this blog two years ago and thought I would share again. Sometimes you need to dispel the myth of perfection. Other times you need to let others know they're not alone. And as a parent, we all need encouragement that we're not ruining our kids; more importantly, that our job isn't to save them. Our family, specifically our marriage, has been through a hot mess. And it's had tremendous impact on our children; they've lost a lot. But today, even years after beginning to process this, I can honestly say that God has been faithful. Not just to Jamy and I, but to Isabelle and Jackson.

It's been awhile since I've shared a more personal post here. Much of it has to do with so many beautiful adoption stories to share of my adoptive families. And if I'm honest, some of it is because it's hard to put into words what's been happening in our family. And hard to put in such a public space. But I've learned these last few years that transparency has been freeing and healing for our family and for my heart. And if I boil it down, the real goal of this blog is to tell stories of God's goodness, for adoptive families and my own.

It's no secret our family has been through a lot. Just click on the marriage tab on the blog and you'll get a glimpse into our story. One of the hardest things about going through a crisis as a family is watching our kids lose some of their childhood. They've had to deal with hard things, lost some innocence, had to deal with loss, and experienced things no one would choose for their children. 

The conversations we've had to have with them are hard enough to have with adult or even teenage children. But having them in grade school has been challenging. We've begged God for wisdom, and received godly counsel. We've fumbled through hundreds of questions that make you catch your breath and say a quick prayer asking for divine insight and direction before answering. And shepherding little hearts when you have a broken heart yourself is hard and exhausting.

As a mother, if I'm honest, it's been heartbreaking. Jamy and I have recently been grieving the loss of some of our kid's childhood in the midst of all of this. It's easy to think we've failed as parents. That our sin and brokenness has ruined them for life.

But this is not the whole story. This hasn't been all that's included in loss.

My kids are learning and experiencing the gospel in real and personal ways. When we talk about God's redemptive power, we note ways he has redeemed our family. When we talk about how God is our refuge, we can list ways we've run to him and ways he's cared for us. When we talk about miracles, we can point to amazing events in our family.

Gathered around the dinner table, we can talk and laugh and remember all of the ways God has cared for us. Huddled over them tucked in their beds we can whisper the promises again that He's given us. Crying on the couch we can cry out to God together asking Him to continue to be near.

Just last weekend for Father's Day, Jamy sat the family down and acknowledged the reality that this side of Heaven, all celebrations are tinged with some sort of grief. We talked about our past year and he gave us all gifts; leather cords to remind us how strong our family can be together with God's help (A cord of three stands is not easily broken. Ecclesiastes 4:12). We've learned that a good father points to an even better one. That our parenting isn't amazing because of what we do, but directs them to their desperate need for a Savior.

We've been knit together as a family. Going though hard things together has bonded us in incredible ways. Our kids come to us with questions, knowing they can ask anything and we'll always have an honest (and age-appropriate) answer. We often talk about fears and faith. We talk through hard things. And they are learning that we are a team; always working together for the good of our family.

My prayer is that when they look back at this season in their young lives, they can pinpoint the space when their faith became their own, they experienced Jesus in a real and personal way, and they grew to understand the gospel more fully. And looking back over these last several years and thinking about what I really want for my children, I realize my deepest desires are actually being met. Both Isabelle and Jackson came to trust Jesus during this time. 

Would I have ever chosen this for my kids? Never. Was it God's plan for sin and brokenness to rock our family? I don't think so. But in his sovereignty, he has worked it all for our good and His glory, even for Isabelle and Jackson.

Maybe your story is a bit like ours. Your family has experienced some kind of loss and walked through things you would have never chosen if you could have written it yourself. When I think of the times of the deepest change in my life, when I learned to trust Jesus even more, it's aways during seasons of suffering and hardship. At the end of the day, I can rest in the truth that God has been sovereign over our suffering; even our kid's.

So my kids have lost some of their childhood. But they've gained a personal and deep knowledge of a God who loves them. A Rescuer who saves them. A Redeemer who restores them. A Heavenly Father who never leaves them. 

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!

Repost: Adoption Resources

In an effort create an easy "go-to" list of adoption resources, I've compiled this list of some of my most popular blogs on the topic and thought I would repost it today. Find a topic you're interested in or use it as a guidebook or roadmap to help you navigate your adoption journey!

Getting Started

The Steps to Adoption 

Keys to a Successful Adoption

Who Is Called to Adoption?  

The Cost of Adoption

Viral Adoption Situations (and what the real story is)

Adoption Myths and Assumptions 

Hiring an Adoption Consultant

Why Hire An Adoption Consultant

A New Approach to Adoption

Is Hiring a Consultant Worth It? 

Why I Recommend Hiring a Consultant 

So You Want to Hire An Adoption Consultant 

The Home Study Process 

Your Home Study Survival Guide

Preparing Your Home for an Adoption Home Study

Infertility and Adoption

What I Wish You Knew About Adoption and Infertility {Part 1} 

What I Wish You Knew About Adoption and Infertility {Part 2}  

What I Wish You Knew About Adoption and Infertility {Part 3} 

In Their Own Words: Mother's Day

What to Expect When She's Not Expecting

Waiting in Adoption

What To Do While You Wait

What I Wish We Knew While We Were Waiting

Truth To Cling To in the Wait 

Dear Mamas in Waiting 

What if We Never Get Chosen (Every Adoptive Parents' Fear)

Openness in Adoption

Open Adoption 1.0

5 Myths of Open Adoption

Navigating Openness

Making Promises in Adoption

Silence on the Other Side 

Expectant and Birth Families

For Birth Parents: A Guide for Your Adoption

The Truth About Birth Parents

Dear Adoptive Mom: What Birth Parents Wish You Knew 

The Perfect Adoptive Family {What Birth Parents Are Really Looking For}

Adoptive Mamas Talk Candidly About Birth Parents 

Raising a Child Who Was Adopted

Extending Grace in Adoption 

A Letter to My Real Son 

Other Adoption Resources 

Positive Adoption Language

Creating An Adoption Hospital Plan

Creating Your Family Profile

Your ICPC Survival Guide

Read hundreds of family's adoption stories here! 

Repost: In Their Own Words: Mother's Day

Growing up, Mother's Day always meant the mothers standing proudly in church getting a carnation, packed restaurants, and homemade cards. It honestly never occurred to me that Mother's Day could be a day of mourning for some rather than a celebration. Now as an adult I know better. This year, I have dear friends who will be grieving this year over the loss of a mother, the loss of a child, and the heartbreak of infertility. I'm thankful I haven't sat in a church that doesn't acknowledge the complexity that Mother's Day brings. Our pastor often says that every celebration this side of Heaven will be bittersweet in a broken wold. This couldn't be more true this Sunday.

But where does adoption fit into all of this? What about those mothers in the process of adoption, proudly calling themselves "paper pregnant?" What does Mother's Day look like for those on the long road to adoption? Amy is a prospective adoptive mother this year for Mother's Day, in the midst of paperwork and appointments and trainings for their adoption. Here's her thoughts this weekend...

"The loveliest masterpiece of the heart of God is the love of a mother"

Each year we get to dedicate a whole day to all of those beautiful mothers in our lives. Maybe, its your own mother, grandmother, birth mother, adoptive mother or step mother...

Whatever the case we know that these women hold some of the most precious places in our hearts. 

We also know that those mama's hold getting to be a mother in the most precious places in their hearts too. 

Maybe, this year you added a bundle of joy to your family.

Maybe, this year is the first year you have gotten to celebrate mother's day as a mama. 

Maybe, this year is the you found out you were going to be a mama for the first time. 

Each year, I know someone who fits into each of these stories. But, I also know women who fit into another type of story...

Maybe, this year you lost a child. 

Maybe, this year you had hoped that this was the year you would have a little one creating a craft out of dried up noodles and globs of paint all filled with love for you. 

Maybe, this year you spent hours filling out adoption paperwork and finishing parenting trainings. 

Maybe, this year you spent the last of your savings on your last round of fertility treatments.

And, each year those of us who aren't yet mothers have to take a deep breath and say...

"Maybe next year..."

This mothers day. Here's to you mama's who don't get to be celebrated as a mama yet. 

Here is to the woman who's hearts desire to be a mother so badly the pain keeps you up at night. 

Here is to the woman who dies a little inside when she sees "Happy Mothers Day" posts all over Facebook for what seems like everyone but herself. 

Here is to the woman who waits and prays for the day she gets to be a mama. 

Here is to the woman who has been preparing herself for this Mother's Day all week long...so that she can seem like she has it all together when the day finally gets here. 

You are not alone. I'm right there with you.

As my husband and I embark on our second year of trying to conceive a child - and are also working to wrap up a home study for our adoption - this day hits me harder than ever because I have had to face some tough realities and a lot of bumps in the road. 

I know my body still won't give me the chance to carry life inside of me. 

I know I have a long and rocky wait ahead of me before my family is complete.

I know my child is out there somewhere - and I pray that they are being taken care of and loved and I will pray over them from this point on for the rest of their lives. 

I know that each day I have to advocate for my child in all ways. 

I know that my home still needs to be prepared for their arrival (whenever that may be).

And...I also know this...

People may not consider me to a mother in such a traditional sense.

But, let me tell you...

Doesn't a mother pray for her child? 

Doesn't a mother fight for her child in all ways?

Doesn't a mother prepare for the arrival of her baby?

That's right, they do!

I may not be a mother with a baby in her arms. 

But, I am a mother with a baby in her heart. And, I think that is worthy of honoring too. 

So, to all of you mothers who are just like me and have a baby growing in their heart instead of their womb - Happy Mothers Day. You all hold a dear place in my heart too. 

Blessings,

Amy

Follow along with Amy on her adoption journey on her blog, Glimpses of Hope.

Repost: What I Wish You Knew About Adoption and Infertility {part 3}

In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I thought it would be a good time to share again some thoughts from adoptive and hopeful adoptive parents on adoption and infertility. I've learned so much from these families and it's worth it to share some of their insights with you this week as we work to educate and break down barriers of couples who have infertility as part of their story...

We've spent the week engaging the conversation about adoption and infertility; the pain that comes with infertility and how others add to the pain. As an adoption consultant, I work with families every day that let me into their story; they share their loss and heartbreak. They share their struggle. And today they are sharing here about their choice to adopt.

Adoption is not something that everyone that is infertile is called by God to do. It is something you need to discern just like a fertile person would discern it.  - Lisa

Adoption doesn't cure infertility. It cures childlessness.  - Stacey

Despite what your doctors, close friends/family, and much of society will recommend, you don't NEED to pursue every treatment for infertility before turning to adoption. Adoption is not a 2nd choice or plan B. Your adopted child will be "your own.”  - Meagan

If you did seek infertility treatments prior to adoption, you really need to fully grieve the loss before committing yourself to adoption…adoption is NOT a plan b, but one can feel it is if they don't free themselves from the pain of infertility first.  - Carrie

I…wish people knew that when a family decides to pursue adoption, they have discussed it in great detail. They didn't think "let's just adopt" they prayed, they had long conversations and prayed some more. A family’s infertility will never go away just because they have chosen the path of adoption...the loss and hurt will always be there in some way.  - Amy

For me, adoption isn't about replacing my son (as some have been bold enough to say). It's about feeling such a depth of love that I had never felt before, such a passion, and knowing that love could be shared with another child. Our capacity to love was shown to me through our son. I knew my son would want for us to love another child, and that it was meant to be through adoption.  - Andrea

After our infertility struggles and miscarriages, we felt God leading us to adoption. We waited until we knew that we knew it was God and not us trying to "make" parenthood happen for us. We didn't really hear Him with clarity until He had helped us heal from our painful previous endeavors. Once we heard Him clearly, we had mourned the way we thought we would become parents, which helped us quickly see how adoption was NOT a Plan B but God's original plan for us all along!  - Debbie 

It's such a hard road - we were never able to get pregnant regardless of pills, shots, and trials...Painful to remember, yes- but one day it WILL NOT DEFINE US. We have been defined for almost 10 years as the poor [family] who can't get pregnant - little did we know we couldn't because our perfect family was not created from my uterus, and I am now a-okay with that!   - Kristin

With infertility, you may never lose the desire to wonder what being pregnant would be like even if you are mommy thru the miracle of adoption and that is perfectly normal. Also, it is ok if everyone in your life does not understand your decision to adopt, it is not their journey to make sense of, it is yours.   - Amanda

We did not have a long infertility battle, but it was intense. [After completing four IVF cycles] we did not know if we wanted to go through the financial, physical, emotional, and spiritual journey again. We decided to put it on God's shelf. He will either tug our hearts back to try again, or He will not. We put it all in His hands. We decided to concentrate on our adoption journey, knowing we were going to adopt no matter what. God gave us a very strong desire to have children, and we know He is not a cruel God. We know that He would not give us the desire if we were not going to be parents somehow. We know it is not how we become parents that matter, it is that we become parents. I don't guarantee that we will not try again at some point, but I know God has given us the strong tug in our hearts to adopt right now. I can't wait to see His plan for us.  - Heather

I wish I would have known that it was ok to take the time to grieve our story not turning out how I thought it would. I wish I had known that it's ok to feel the hurt of secondary infertility just as much as the first time. I felt so guilty for wanting another child when we already had our son. But a friend told me, "your family is incomplete whether it's by one child or two children, it's still incomplete.”  - Ashley

The heartache was so overwhelming in the middle of our IVF treatments and the final negative pregnancy test was one if the worst days of my life.... It all seems like such a distant memory and such a small part of my life since we brought our [daughter] home ! There are still a few times of sadness , but I am shocked how all consuming the sadness was and how quickly it vanished once we held our [daughter] for the first time.  - Becca

We would not have [our daughter] if we didn't have our infertility and our losses. If we had been pregnant either naturally or with IVF first, we likely would not have opened our hearts to adoption. So I would not exchange our infertility battles for the world because they brought me my most perfect first daughter. So in that vein, while difficult, those hard hard years were the best thing that ever happened to me and my husband.  - Carrie

My friend, Lily, summed up her thoughts on their infertility and adoption journey so perfectly.  Infertility is complicated. Often those on the outside want to reduce it down to a simple “just.” Just do IVF. Just relax and it will happen. Just adopt. It’s easy to miss that infertility is often a catalyst God uses to redirect and refine those going through it, but there is no “just” that will wrap everything up with a neat bow. It’s emotional, messy, and everyone’s story is unique. Not everyone struggling with infertility will do IVF or adopt. Some will do both. We loved the idea of adoption long before we dealt with infertility. But God used infertility to direct out path at the right time for us to adopt our son. Even with the diagnosis of infertility, we never tried IVF because the call on us to adopt became so great and so imperative. Praise God for the timeline he put us on! But we also received some judgement for the way we did things and why we hadn’t “explored every option” before adopting. Even from our fertility doctor. Now, as an adoptive momma, I can tell you that adoption is emotional, messy and everyone’s story will be different. But I also know firsthand the beauty of being part of something that God knit together, and knowing that our infertility was part of a bigger plan He had for us and our son. What was once something I asked God to remove from our lives, is now something I have thanked Him for many times. God’s ways are not our ways.

I can't think of a more beautiful way to talk about adoption and infertility. The beauty that God can make from brokenness when we see our story as a part of His.

Repost: What I Wish You Knew About Adoption and Infertility {part 2}

In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I thought it would be a good time to share again some thoughts from adoptive and hopeful adoptive parents on adoption and infertility. I've learned so much from these families and it's worth it to share some of their insights with you this week as we work to educate and break down barriers of couples who have infertility as part of their story...

Earlier this week we started to talk about adoption and infertility, specifically the pain that comes with infertility. Families I work with have graciously allowed me to share their stories and thoughts on the important topic of how they've grown their family. 

Today, let's dive into how others add to the pain. Often, unknowingly, others trying to step into grief or offer an encouraging word actually do the opposite. People can make insensitive comments that can hurt rather than heal. If you're someone who struggles quietly with infertility, this might offer some solidarity with others who have been where you are. Or maybe you're on the other side, watching dear friends struggle. Let this open your eyes and open your heart to the real pain of infertility and the ability to walk with them through it.

Part of this series is to address the myths that many people have about adoption and infertility. Today, my families address many of them head on...

The thing that struck me most about our journey with infertility is how easily people belittle that painful journey. They say things like "Well now you don't have to deal with the bad parts of pregnancy" or "Just relax and it'll happen." Really?! How rude and painful to hear! No one can understand the deep deep wounds that infertility causes until you have gone through it. Unfortunately, when individuals belittle our journey to me it rips those wounds right back open. Just yesterday I was speaking with two women about children and grandchildren. One women looked at the other and said, "Well I mean your [grandchild] is actually a part of your DNA." She didn't even notice what she had said but it took my breath away for a moment. That someone would say that after looking at a picture of my beautiful daughter and make reference that she isn't actually mine burned my heart.  - Amanda

Telling a person who suffers from infertility to 'just adopt' is insensitive. Also, adoption is not something that everyone that is infertile is called by God to do. It is something you need to discern just like a fertile person would discern it.  - Lisa

After finding out we're adopting and saying, "oh now I bet you'll get pregnant because you won't be thinking about it" is insensitive. That implies infertility is someone's fault. We aren't choosing to adopt in hopes of getting pregnant.  - Tyler

Stop saying [our daughter] is lucky because we "saved" her... If anything she saved us! And the infertility is definitely a grieving process. It took me a long time (and I mean a long time) to be ready to let go. I am amazed every moment that God wove [adoption into] our path and I will be thrilled and in disbelief for as long as I live.  - Wendy

Just because we have chosen to adopt DOES NOT MEAN WE WILL GET PREGNANT. For the life of me, I cringe every time I hear this comment because it implies that adoption is a back-up plan and that pregnancy/childbirth is worthy of more celebration.  - Shelley

I know they mean well. They tell me it is about relaxing. After you adopt, you will be relaxed and not trying so hard. I heard this many, many times.  - Heather

My husband and I were pretty young when infertility turned our world upside down. We knew we always wanted to adopt (even before infertility) but it was disheartening that no one respected or took our wish to adopt very seriously till after seven years of infertility. All we ever heard was "you're so young, just relax it'll happen. There's no need to think about adoption yet." As if adoption was our back up plan and only acceptable after all fertility options had been exhausted. And yes, we've also been told too many times to count "I bet you'll get pregnant now!" It's so painful and belittling.  - Maria

Someone actually just said to me yesterday "I just know once you adopt you'll get pregnant.” It pains me to put a smile on my face and just say "hmm, maybe?" Because it's too exhausting to explain why the comment is hurtful. I hate that pregnancy still always seems like the "better" gift. Like I won't be content with adopting - and I'll need pregnancy to really make me feel like a parent. Ugh.  - Amy

Telling a person who suffers from infertility to 'just adopt' is insensitive.  - Lisa

I'll attest that pregnancy and childbirth do NOT make you a parent, despite what some people imply. The sleepless nights, endless diaper changes, midnight feedings, early morning snuggles, unconditional love...all of that makes you a parent. No pregnancy needed.  - Shelley

People do belittle our journeys and it's hard to not let their words cut us deeply. - Amy

As someone who is currently pregnant unexpectedly after adoption…everyone said it was because we "relaxed" and this happens "all the time" -- and it made me want to scream, as I knew exactly what our infertility issues were and how extremely unlikely this pregnancy was. However the people that "got it" call both our babies miracles and how God had his hand in forming our family this particular way. And to that I whole-heartedly agree. I always say His plan is incredible for everyone and it sure can catch you by surprise sometimes.  - Carrie 

Infertility hurts...badly. It changes you as a person (in good ways, but it's a very hard road). There are those who care enough to really "go" there with you and witness and support you through the pain and loss and it changes those people too... then there are those who flat out don't care enough to "go" there with you. Sometimes it's surprising who those people are and amazing how insensitive they can be...from telling you, "Okay, no big deal just do IVF..." without acknowledging the pain you are going through or the expense, stress, pain, and loss that's still possible with IVF... or (when we decided not to try IVF) "well, why wouldn't you try to have your own baby first?” to the ever popular, "I just know you'll get pregnant now that you've adopted…" We've even had a family member say to us, about our adopted son, "Well I guess he's good enough to be a [part of our family] and I guess we'll let him in the family pictures...." The ignorance and remarkably hurtful comments will always be there. But another thing infertility can do is knit a husband and wife together in such a way that you can stand together against others who try to tear you down...it creates in you a maturity, love and devotion that enables you to rely on each other and on God; others that just don't/won't get it don't have to hold an essential part of our lives. In more ways than we ever thought, infertility completely reshaped our lives....and God has worked it for our good.  - Katie

Stick around. We'll chat about the choice to adopt later this week...

Repost: What I Wish You Knew About Adoption and Infertility {part 1}

In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, I thought it would be a good time to share again some thoughts from adoptive and hopeful adoptive parents on adoption and infertility. I've learned so much from these families and it's worth it to share some of their insights with you this week as we work to educate and break down barriers of couples who have infertility as part of their story...

Today starts a three part series about adoption and infertility. Too often we address infertility or adoption singularly and not in a broader context of a family desiring to grow their family. Not every family who decides to adopt has suffered with infertility. In my experience, a little more than half of the families I work with have struggled with some form of infertility. I wanted to start a conversation about the topic and the response I received was overwhelming. Families who were eager to share their experiences, their grief, and even their hope. So much so, that I need a week to to cover it all.

Infertility is a heartbreaking part of so many couple's lives. I haven't met one woman who doesn't remember exactly where she was when she received the news of a devastating diagnosis, and often remembers the exact words her doctor spoke. 

I've asked some of my families to share their thoughts, their stories, and their hearts over the next few days about their journey through infertility and adoption. Here's their thoughts on the pain of infertility...

I so wish people had a better understanding of the loss you feel with infertility. It's a loss that both HUSBAND and WIFE need to grieve.  - Amy

There is hope for the grief/sadness caused by infertility to pass. I remember saying to a friend, somewhat in surprise, that I truly felt no sadness anymore about our infertility. I want nothing different than our son and his story. She wisely said, "God placed a hole in your heart the shape of [our son] and now it is filled." … I learned God can bring a lot of healing and peace through his plans.  - Meagan

Now that we have our daughter I am so glad God's plans were BETTER than what I had thought they would be. We always wanted to adopt (long before I knew about our infertility) but we needed to give ourselves the time to heal and process and move forward.  - Ashley

Going through infertility was like living life on slow motion. Every treatment and every month took 3 times longer than it should have. We were sad ALL the time. Now that we have our son, it's like life is on fast forward and going by WAY too fast. This is what happiness feels like!   - Jessica

Sometimes the journey feels so lonely!  - Rosie

We adopted our first daughter 4 and a half years ago and she is absolutely the apple of our eyes. Having said that, I would like to share that infertility is something that I don't think you ever 'get over' It is still a nagging ache in my heart…  - Denise

I often think to myself "what a great honor that God has chosen us to walk the path of adoption! I can't believe he finds us worthy to do such an amazing thing!" It's so humbling! But, I know that I will never fully heal from the loss of not being able to carry a child inside of me. I wish I too could feel all of the aspects of pregnancy. People do belittle our journeys and it's hard to not let their words cut us deeply.  - Amy

I'm totally content with our family and adoption was certainly not 'second best' for us. However, it doesn't mean that infertility doesn't still have it's moments of 'sting' or that I don't have the desire to know what's it's like to have someone kick my belly from the inside. It doesn't mean that I don't long to know what labor is like however painful it may be.  - Amanda

Infertility. The ever-present elephant in the room. Your family sees it, but doesn't quite know what to say. You see it and wonder if anyone feels your pain. God sees it. He allows it. He wrote it for my family. He wrote it after we had our first daughter. And let me tell you, even though we had a biological child and experienced pregnancy, I had some big words for Him… I was pouring out my heart to Him, mostly groanings deep within. He heard Hannah, right? Surely He'd hear me, too, right? I know He heard me. But His answer wasn't the one I wanted to hear, but the one that would forever reshape me… I am forever grateful that He works in ways that I never could have dreamed.  - Kate

I thought I would forever carry with me the void of never physically feeling a baby grow inside of my belly...but God miraculously healed that desire. He literally filled that void through our experience of feeling our love grow in our hearts for our boys from Ethiopia. Just as is also happening now for Baby Sis (domestic adoption). "You may not have grown in my belly, but you grew in my heart" is SO TRUE! That aching, dreaming, praying, anticipating still occurs whether that baby grows in your belly or your heart!  - Debbie


Come back later this week for more on how others add to the pain of infertility and the choice to adopt.

In Their Own Words: The Truth About Our Hurt

Joslyn is a sweet friend. We were roommates for several years in college, traveled together in a band (not as glamorous as you might be imagining), and grew into adulthood side by side. If you know Joslyn, you know her huge heart for others, her contagious belly laugh, and her passion for life. She has a way of making just about anything fun and has a constant twinkle in her eyes. But more than anything, Jos has always had a heart for being a mama. All three of her children have come to her through adoption and she is an adoptee herself.Today Joslyn honestly and transparently shares some insights on the hurt and pain adoptees can go through.

I have a unique perspective. As an adoptee who has adopted, I get both sides. The only leg of the adoption triangle I'm missing is the birth momma.

Adoption is this amazing experience I have had the pleasure of knowing so intimately. It's who I am. It's my past and present and future. God gave me this amazing family who nurtured me and led me up in Christ. I was loved. I am loved. My family is such a gift. And now I get to love and nurture three souls that I have been hand-picked to parent through foster/adoption.

To say that this road is all roses and butterflies would be...untrue. And to be honest, no parenting road is smooth sailing. If someone claims that it is, perhaps they haven't hit certain stages yet. Or maybe they're lying.

The truth is, parenting kids from hard places is both incredibly challenging and terribly sad. It's hard.

So, in the essence of true transparency, I thought I'd write a little about the hurt and pain we adoptees go through. Please read this with no judgement and no "psychological answers," because the truth is...it's there. The older I get, the more I feel like one day (or year) it will go away, but it doesn't. 

And remember: this doesn't mean we don't love the life we've been given and blessed with. I'm just hoping to let light in to your adoptee's mind...even if they can't put words to it.

There are days when we're sad and we don't know why. Only to realize later that it's because we didn't sleep last night as we thought/dreamt/imagined our birth family and how life maybe would have been. Does it mean we want a different life? No. (For me, never.) But does it mean we wonder? Yes. We do. And then our feelings drift to why? That "why" will hang over our heads until we get the chance to ask the ones who can answer it, which some of us never will.

Birthdays are much harder than one would think. Not because we're growing older. No. It's because we can't stop wondering if the proverbial "they" are thinking about us. Do they remember this day? What are their memories/feelings/regrets about this day? Or is it just another day for them? Do they remember? Do they miss me? Do they wish they knew me?

There's a lot more guilt than we talk about. We wrestle with our desire to want to know more (everything) about our heritage/birth family/genes. We worry that will make our adoptive family think we love them less. We don't. But we need to know basic things that most people automatically have given to them upon birth into a family. Let us explore. Let us search. Let us meet. Let us love and be loved by both of the families who made us who we are. Without abandon. And maybe help us along the way.

Don't assume gratitude. This is a hard one for me to type. I am impacted greatly by gratitude; I believe we all are. But don't assume that we should be grateful for the life we've been given. Especially in those teenage years, when all we search for is autonomy, sometimes all we can think about is how life would/could be better/different. Don't say to me, "You should be grateful for the family you have." I am grateful. We are. We adoptees are. But why should we assume that our life is greater without our "roots?" That's a hard pill to swallow for us.

I look into my 3 kid's eyes and I sometimes even admittedly think that. That I wish they'd be grateful for the sacrifice and love and hard issues we sludge through with them. But the truth is, I know they are silently fighting a battle that they don't even want to be in.

And so in our home, we provide safety and (hopefully) transparency. We talk about birth family and birth parents as fluidly as we talk about our own. We talk about what could have been, what might have been. We talk about how all of our family has shaped who we are. We talk about how we have to choose which way to lean....how to pick the good parts of all of it and learn to be comfortable with who we are. We talk about how hard birthdays are. And sometimes, when relaying our conversations to my husband, tears are shed. Because I don't want my children to know how I understand both sides now. I get them wanting their roots. And I also get me wanting to protect them from whatever possible harm there could be in their roots.

We celebrate big days (birthdays, adoption, etc.) with the realization that the only way our family can celebrate these days is because our child has experienced such a great and devastating loss. That can not be forgotten or left out.

Similar to life itself, great beauty rises from the ashes of hurt. And though no family is perfect, mine was perfect for me. I pray when my three are grown, they will say the same of us.

And most importantly, the beauty outweighs the hurt. Always.

You can find Joslyn, her family, and more of her story at her blog, Keathley Chronicles.