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My Overthinking

Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption

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Archives for December 2013

“Desperately Seeking Birthmother” {Encore}

12.27.13

This post originally published back in January of 2013, nearly a year ago, got a lot of attention. In fact, it led to some powerful interaction with an insightful adoption rights blogger and world changer and a radio appearance. Super proud of being a part of some world change myself through this piece.

____________

It was about a year ago. We were standing outside a cafe chatting away, adoptive moms to adoptive moms. I don’t even remember what I was talking about exactly when another mom, a mom who has become a dear friend (you can check out Amber’s blog by clicking HERE), interrupted me to correct me.

Expectant mom not birthmom. She’s not a birth mom until she places a child for adoption. Right now, she’s an expectant mom.

I stumbled over my words a bit but accepted her correction. Really though? Is that verbiage that big of deal? I usually overthink all the adoption verbiage, but really? Can I not use birthmom without having to overthink that too?

5 days ago, I helped a friend out by sharing her post on Facebook.

Do you know of a family who wants to adopt? I know of a PA birth mom, due 2/28-3/5 with a full Caucasian baby girl. No drug or alcohol exposure, just began prenatal care. She is parenting 2 little ones, cannot raise another baby. She does need reasonable living expenses (thus PA residents are not eligible). She is looking for an active, loving couple who is willing to meet and have ongoing contact in an open adoption. She prefers a couple under 40, but will consider a little older (40-43), would like a couple with no more than 1 child. PM me if you would like to be connected with the friend of mine who is working with her.

I just copied and pasted, didn’t overthink anything, just wanted to get the word out, trusting that the right family for this child would see it.

Whether or not the right family saw it hasn’t been confirmed yet, but I can tell you that a lot of families saw it. Like thousands of families. My inbox couldn’t keep up with all the messages I started getting. I’m still getting them–some with full profiles, their whole histories, youtube videos, etc. etc.

As I read each and every one of those messages, all from couples desperately wanting to parent, I remembered my conversation with my friend.

Expectant mom not birthmom. She’s not a birth mom until she places a child for adoption. Right now, she’s an expectant mom.

She was so right for correcting me. 

illustration by Barry Falls, grabbed from NYTimes

illustration by Barry Falls, grabbed from NYTimes

I don’t know this woman due in only 2 months. I can’t begin to understand what her days are like, what today is like for her. I imagine that she’s exhausted both physically and emotionally. I imagine she’s getting up in the middle of the night too many times to keep count between dealing with a toddler who still cries out at night and having to get up to pee…again. I imagine she fights an internal battle daily as she feels her baby girl squirming around inside her but hear’s the cries of the children she’s parenting and sees the bills stacking up on her counter. I imagine she feels alone and inadequate and remembers ideas she had of what life would be like for her and wonders if she’ll ever get remotely close to them again. I imagine she is looking for redemption somehow and thinks that maybe knowing that her baby would be raised by a couple who desperately want a child would somehow bring that. But, that’s just what I imagine.

She’s expecting. And, she’s hurting. That’s what I know.

I feel ashamed of my own act of hitting ctrl-C and ctrl-V to put those words on my page as if she’s somehow reduced to a baby carrier and that I encouraged hurting couples to write to me with verbiage in kind. I have found myself thanking those people who used the words expectant mom in their messages to me and encouraged them for their compassion and sensitivity.

So, here it goes. For anyone out there reading these words now — it’s expectant mom not birthmom. She’s not a birth mom until she places a child for adoption. Right now, she’s an expectant mom. And, if you’re talking to or about women who are considering placing their children for adoption, please use the words expectant mom. It’s kind, sensitive, compassionate towards the only thing we can truly know of them that is true–they are expecting and they are hurting.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: adoption

Encores

12.26.13

It’s been quite a year.

We hosted our first Together Called through The Sparrow Fund and realized we were a part of something much bigger than what we first thought. Mark went to China for 2 weeks to do some great work at a university in Baoding in May. We started doing this crazy thing called rais*ing support so that we could do an even crazier thing called quitting the full-time job in the finance industry to be a part of that China work full-time—which we did in October. I went to China, and he went again. We entered the world of middle school (insert scary Law & Order noise here), and our eldest shocked us by seemingly mastering middle school.

It’s been big stuff this year sandwiched between lots of little stuff with big significance too. Deeper conversations with the kids. Dinners together every night. Talking about what our family is about. A child going to Sunday School willingly who would never go before. A child celebrating the success of another. Lots of day to day little things that are over in a few seconds but become a mental souvenir of a season of life that I hope to not forget.

That’s been our year. Serving in new ways, leaping in new ways, looking back with a sigh, and looking forward with anticipation.

Join me as I look back. Over the next few days, I’m sharing a few snapshots encores, a way to flip through a scrapbook with friends and say, “Oooo…yeah…I remember that.” I’ll enjoy it way more than any of you do, no doubt. But, join me anyway, nod and smile, maybe leave me a comment or two to celebrate the snapshots of life with me.

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Uncategorized

The sad part about Christmas

12.25.13

Nothing says Christmas like thoughtful gifts given and received and a fake fire on your tv screen.
xmas 20131 xmas 20132

So, I may live to regret the gold gifts of box turtles for the boys this year. But, they were thrilled with their new buddies Jones and Timber. I may have seen a tear in Drew’s eye (and that wasn’t the pink eye he woke up with I’m taking about).

xmas 20133

I am typing in the dark now, sitting on the floor of a bedroom in my parents’ house with my husband out cold in the bed beside me, the man who somehow rallied despite jet lag and then finally collapsed, and the sound of snoring around me as one son sleeps in a chaise lounge by the bed and another on the floor in the walk-in closet. And, my heart is full.

Midmorning today, Lydia came up to me after we had opened our gifts and stockings and as we were packing up to leave for Nanma and Grandaddy’s house.

“Mama, I’m a little sad.”

“Why, honey?”

“Because we have to wait a long, long time for Christmas again.”

Yup. Let’s just hit rewind and do the day all over again. Fine by me.

xmas 20134

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Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Traditions, Uncategorized, why can't they just stay little forever

He is there. He is here.

12.24.13

Christmas 2009. Four Christmases ago. I was a wreck. We were so close to finding our new daughter. I just knew it would be a few weeks after Christmas; I hoped it would be a few weeks after Christmas. I was filled with expectation that Christmas.

And, that meant that though I didn’t know who she was or where exactly she was, what she looked like or how old she was, I knew she was. I knew she was somewhere across the world, alone on Christmas, what turned out to be her first Christmas.

I was anxious and wondering and thinking all the time about her. Yet, there was something that gave me great peace.

God was there.

In Luke 2:6-20, Luke mentioned the manger three times. Why?

The manger was messy. It wasn’t what we picture and what our children play with as part of our little nativity sets they can hold in their hands. It wasn’t a symmetrical wooden contraption with a sweet bed of hay. It was more like a box looking thing or basin made out of clay mixed with hay or stones and held together with mud. All kinds of food for animals was put into it, not just nice yellow hay. It was dirty, likely moldy, smelly, not anything we’d want our child anywhere near.

And, God was there. Very literally, God was there.

As spunky and full of life as Lydia is now, there was a time that she was in a pretty messy place. I believe her orphanage was one of the better ones—her needs were met, and we’ve learned that there were quite caring women who took to her there. There was a wall of windows with natural light in the room where she lived 24-7. In that room were 40 cribs and a few toys for all to share to pass their days until they graduated to another room and then another. There were older children in that orphanage too, children we weren’t allowed to see. I wonder what their days were like.

I’ve heard a lot of stories, stories about adopted children who flinch when someone moves their direction in fear that they will be hit; children with flat heads who were never held; children who have come to accept that no one wants to bring home a child their age, only babies; children who suffer significant consequences from not having the medical treatment they needed earlier.
And, yet, I believe God is there.

God is not only not afraid to get his feet dirty; He is about getting His feet dirty. That’s what advent is all about, isn’t it? God coming down, the perfect to the broken, the holy to the unholy.

Psalm 34:18 tells us He’s close to the brokenhearted, and there are so many, so very many. I can only imagine that He is very close indeed to brokenhearted children—here and there—whether they are aware of their brokenness or not. He’s there.

I prayed for our daughter four Christmases ago, that He would be close to her, that He would remain close to her. That He would be tangibly felt in that room where she slept. That He would wrap His arms around her when she was cold. That He’d rock her when she needed comfort. That He’d be in the manger with her.

I know He was there.

And, somehow, in the dark places of orphanages around the world, I can’t explain how or what He always looks like there, but I believe that He’s there. In the warmth of the sun pouring in the windows, He comforted my child. In the smile of a nanny. In the gaze of another orphan. In the provision sent by charities around the world. In her broken heart—emotionally and literally.

Somehow, He was there.

Now, as my children listen to us read about His story every night, sing familiar and unfamiliar words together to prepare, sneak Hershey kisses in their mouths as we make reindeer eyes, and use entirely too much scotch tape on crafts and wrapping paper alike, He is here…and, He is there, somehow making an unholy place, holy.

That’s what advent is about. That’s what He’s about.

photos courtesy of KC Photography

No related posts.

Posted by Kelly the Overthinker
Filed Under: Orphans, words about faith

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