Wednesday, January 30, 2013

The Crazies

Beware: This is a long, honest post. Maybe not completely raw but definitely honest. Don't read on if you're prone to judge (or give flowery advice just to make me feel better). Consider yourself warned.

I officially have the "crazies." It's not a technical term, I know. It's the only word I can think of to describe how I feel these days. Our dossier (a.k.a. all the papers that make us officially able to adopt an Ethiopian child) landed in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia last week.

What does this mean?

We are now "paper ready" to accept the referral of a child who matches our approved criteria.

When will you receive a referral?

I wish I knew. Currently our agency says 12-15 months (a.k.a. loooongest pregnancy ever), but our age range that we are approved for is 0-6 years. Most families are waiting on 0-2 year olds. We could get a referral faster if there were a bunch of 3-5 year olds that were available for adoption. For some reason, however, there have not been a lot in that age range available lately. So it's back to: "I wish I knew."

And that makes me CRAZY.

In the next day or two we will officially get a wait list number from our adoption agency. This is the number that says where in line we stand with the other families with our agency waiting for a referral. We'll land somewhere around number 90. I hope it might be in the 80s...but I doubt it. Thinking about this number makes me crazy. I have been looking forward for months to get our paperwork to Ethiopia and finally be a "waiting" family. It's crazy to think that we began this process more than 6 months ago and we are just now officially beginning to wait. I can't wait to get the number...and I dread getting the number. Crazy. It makes me crazy. How can I both eagerly anticipate and fully dread something like this? I do.

What happens when you receive a referral?

We get to wait again. It will take about 4-5 months from the time of referral to bring baby home. (Did I mention about the looooongest pregnancy ever?) I knew there would be a lot of waiting. I knew it in my head. My heart only recently has started to engage with this reality. And it makes my insides turn like crazy. It's not the "not knowing" at this point. I'm sure it will be the "not knowing" at some point. It's the waiting. I've considered asking our agency not to issue us a number and just call us when it's time.

Do you know what this number does right now to my crazy, crazy heart?
It makes me feel like I have some control in a situation where I have NO control.
It makes me maniacally wait for referrals for other families NOT so that orphans are given families but so that I can move up on the list.
It tempts me to question the efforts of my agency if we didn't move up enough spots on the list. 
It makes me view adoption as a consumer process where I just want to get through the line to get my kid.

You know how crazy you feel sometimes waiting in line in a crowded McDonald's when all you want is a 32 oz. fountain beverage and happy meals for the kids but you get there during a shift change or when there's only one cashier and you want to hop over the counter and just do it yourself? Or when you've blazed the summer heat at Disney to get your kid's picture taken with his or her favorite character only to get to the front when it's time for them to take a break? The cast member promises they'll be back in a few minutes...but you've waited a long time, the sun is blazing, cutie pie's lollipop ran out 20 minutes ago...and you beg them for just one more photo before the break...cause it's your turn. You lose any personal sense of pride and dignity and become crazy mama for just one snap of the camera with the creepy guy dressed up as your kid's favorite bear, tiger, or rat.

Have you ever waited in a line in a foreign country where there really is no line? You try (or at least I do as a southerner) to be cordial and keep the sense of a line but, in reality, you're dropping your shoulder just slightly to get one more step ahead in the line? You'll lean hard with an elbow if needed. And I am a nervous wreck the whole time in those types of lines. I wonder if I am going to survive the wait (and the heat, and the bodies, and the stink). I wonder if I will miss out on something if I lose a spot to someone else who gave the extra little nudge, and I wonder how much should I nudge?

The crazies. There is no other way to put it right now.  I have the crazies.

That's how the wait list makes me feel. It makes me view other adoptive families as competitors and my child as a commodity that I am due at the end of this.

I told you I was going to be honest.

So I just emailed our agency and asked for them to hold off in sending me the email revealing our number. I just can't go there. Cause I'll go even more crazy. I'll start throwing elbows. It won't be pretty. I might make it look pretty, cause I'm a southerner and a pastor's wife. But my heart right now is not pretty. It's crazy.

There is truth to rest on and consider. About the power and sovereignty of my kind and gracious God. About the sin in my heart and how this particular stage of the adoption process is revealing it loud and clear. About the child that God has foreknown would be a Friederichsen no matter how crazy the wait is.

I have had this song on a loop in my kitchen yesterday and today:


Dear refuge of my weary soul,
On thee when sorrows rise;
On thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies.
While hope revives, though pressed with fears,
And I can say, "My God,"
Beneath thy feet I spread my cares,
And pour my woes abroad.
To thee I tell each rising grief,
For thou alone canst heal;
Thy word can bring a sweet relief,
For every pain I feel.
But oh! when gloomy doubts prevail
I fear to call thee mine;
The springs of comfort seem to fail
And all my hopes decline.
Yet gracious God, where shall I flee?
Thou art my only trust;
And still my soul would cleave to thee,
Though prostrate in the dust.
Hast thou not bid me seek thy face?
And shall I seek in vain?
And can the ear of sovereign grace
Be deaf when I complain?
No, still the ear of sovereign grace
Attends the mourner's prayer;
O may I ever find access,
To breathe my sorrows there.
Thy mercy-seat is open still;
Here let my soul retreat,
With humble hope attend thy will,
And wait beneath thy feet.


Thank you, Lord, for leading me to walk away from this number for now and to walk toward your good and glorious plan for me and our family. Right now, the number would be too much for me to bear. So far from our child. I will take my crazy heart and soul and wait beneath the feet of him who alone can calm my crazies. 

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing your heart, Kim. I admire your willingness to admit that you can't handle the number at this time. You described many of my thoughts when I was on the list... praying for you!

KiwiChristy said...

Kim....waiting is so hard. I'm not waiting for a kid, but waiting to see God's provision in other ways. Hard when it is OUT of our control and then hard to remember that God is faithful in the midst of it. All just "ugh" moments. Hope you're feeling a little less crazy, but if not, that's ok too. :)