Real Talk Begins....

I am a mom. It is my most cherished title. It is something I longed for since I was just a girl myself. And it is something that took time and a lot of difficulty to receive. It took two different run ins with cancer, a lost pregnancy at 14 weeks, 3 failed adoptions, to finally some miracle births, both physically and through adoption. Yes, I am a mom and not a day goes by that this is taken for granted.

I have been considering this blog for a long, long time. Tonight, on Father's Day 2012, I have embraced what I feel is somehow a responsibility. I have a deep faith in Christ and I have a deep belief in His word. It tells me in 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, ⁴ who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God" God has been so faithful in comforting me and my family through some very dark times and I have no doubt, others out there are experiencing a lingering, heavy, dark cloud as well. And it is because of that, I find myself creating this blog, this father's day, when our cloud has become a raging storm... again.

My prayer would be that no one would need this. My dream would be for all who have embarked on the journey of adoption, to be living the fairytale in their family that we all hoped for when we accepted the joyous challenge by saying yes to someone else's flesh and blood to become our very own. My desire would be for the happily ever after where it truly didn't matter from where the child came, just that they came. For many, this in fact would be their story!

But, as my family is living proof, unfortunately this isn't always how it goes. And because of that, a lot of pain and struggles exist in place of the fairytale. Experiences that without some sort of channel to others in our "boat", can lead to gut- wrenching sadness, fear, and deafening isolation. My intent with this blog, is to help myself while also helping others at the same time. I need you. And somehow, even without knowing who you are, I know that you need me too. We are a community... even if we never meant to be or would never choose to be.

It's funny really. This isn't the first time I have become a part of a community that I would never have chosen to embrace intentionally. I buried my precious three-year-old son after a devastating battle with disease and instantly became a part of a circle of people that understand me when others never will. We are a circle of survivors, without any understanding of how, continued to breathe when we didn't know if we could, when our precious children slipped from our earthly embraces into our Father's eternal embrace. I wouldn't have wanted to be in that group for anything, but since I was thrust into it, I am so thankful for the ones that went before me and were able to help me know I was normal for what I feel along the path after his loss and to know it was okay to do what I had to do to make it... that a right or wrong healing path didn't exist as long as I kept moving forward and didn't get too stuck. Man, that circle of people, most of which I don't know on any personal level, helped me make it into the survivor category. They still do.

So I have no doubt, if I am willing to open the doors, I will find myself surrounded by others that have walked or are currently walking the path of shattered dreams in adoption and without really ever choosing to or knowing how, we will help one another make it. We will be survivors of this journey as well.

And in the end, somehow, someway, we will say, "It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but it was worth it." That's my goal. That's my deepest need. To be able to honestly, sincerely, and whole-heartedly say "It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but it was worth it!" about adopting my broken children.

I don't know when that will happen. I don't know how it will happen. But if I quit believing it will happen, then the hope will fade. Without hope, it will all crumble for good. And that is not an option. Period.

So, with that, let me say, welcome to my blog. I wish I didn't have to write. I wish you didn't need to read. But we are both here anyway, so lets lock arms and find our way through our darkest days of disappointment and hurt together. And along the way, I believe we will find tiny shimmers of sunlight pouring through the darkness, leading us closer and closer to the light where the darkness will eventually fade forever.... one day. Someday.

I believe.

Robin