Last year on March 3rd, in the wee hours of the morning, Mark and I fell into bed with huge headaches after trying to take care of all the details of quickly adopting a one-month-old and to pack all of the necessary things we would need for our sudden trip to NC. After a few hours of sleep, we finished packing, got E and T ready, and headed to Pittsburgh to sign some documents for PA before heading south.
On the way there, we quickly discussed what we wanted Ish's official name to be so that we could call ahead for the paperwork to be ready when we arrived in Pittsburgh. Shortly after that phone call, our relatively new van began making some really horrendous noises. These noises would continue the entire way to NC and then mysteriously never appear again.
We arrived at the adoption agency with lunch for the boys in hand. Eli had a terrible cold and was having a hard time coping, especially after he dropped his lunch on the floor. Toby was very excited about all the no-no things in the conference room and was continually trying to climb chairs and tables anytime a parent's hand was busy with a pen. Mark and I were trying to absorb all of the information necessary while at the same time still functioning through a mental and emotional fog of sorts from the huge life-changing event that had started just some 24 hours before. And yet, with many reassurances from our case worker, we were out the door and headed for Ish.
We stopped at a Target in West Virginia to pick up some baby supplies, only to realize that we didn't know what kind of bottles Ish used or what size diapers he wore. (Which now, a year later, we realize that we could have called to find out. Geesh.) The boys picked out a Winnie the Pooh bear to give to Ish as a brother gift, and then we were off to our hotel in Virginia. We collapsed into bed, hoping hoping hoping that we would be able to get everything and everyone on the road in time to make our meeting time at the NC office.
And then, it was March 4th...
On the way there, we quickly discussed what we wanted Ish's official name to be so that we could call ahead for the paperwork to be ready when we arrived in Pittsburgh. Shortly after that phone call, our relatively new van began making some really horrendous noises. These noises would continue the entire way to NC and then mysteriously never appear again.
We arrived at the adoption agency with lunch for the boys in hand. Eli had a terrible cold and was having a hard time coping, especially after he dropped his lunch on the floor. Toby was very excited about all the no-no things in the conference room and was continually trying to climb chairs and tables anytime a parent's hand was busy with a pen. Mark and I were trying to absorb all of the information necessary while at the same time still functioning through a mental and emotional fog of sorts from the huge life-changing event that had started just some 24 hours before. And yet, with many reassurances from our case worker, we were out the door and headed for Ish.
We stopped at a Target in West Virginia to pick up some baby supplies, only to realize that we didn't know what kind of bottles Ish used or what size diapers he wore. (Which now, a year later, we realize that we could have called to find out. Geesh.) The boys picked out a Winnie the Pooh bear to give to Ish as a brother gift, and then we were off to our hotel in Virginia. We collapsed into bed, hoping hoping hoping that we would be able to get everything and everyone on the road in time to make our meeting time at the NC office.
And then, it was March 4th...
***
I think you can sense that we were a bit overwhelmed this time last year. Overwhelmed with all the what-ifs. What if we can't give each of the children the attention they need? What if the road to help Ish's special needs is more than we can imagine? What if we have much less time for our marriage? What if the chaos makes our house implode? What if? What if?
If on March 3rd of 2009 I could see the events of March 3rd, 2010, I might have had a few more what-ifs. What if Ish has another night where he is awake from 1ish to 3ish because it was physical therapy day and his legs are restless? What if as soon as I get him to sleep, Eli wakes up with the stomach flu? What if as soon as the stomach flu settles down, the day has started? And what if I Lysol the house so much that everything literally sticks together?
A friend recently shared that there is a definite reason why God doesn't show us the entire process of the journey from the very beginning. We're simply not ready to see it. Not that today was rough in the grand scheme of life, but if I had known about it a year ago when I didn't even know what the next day was going to look like, I would have panicked. But the beauty - today was fine. I have had a whole year to learn how to do this, and while I don't get an A+ for today's weary efforts, we all love one another and still like having each other around. And we are better at relying on Jesus in the process. I wouldn't pick another journey.
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