A baby is born with a need to be loved - and never outgrows it.
Frank A. Clark
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Our family

Our family
October 2011

Sunday, October 23, 2011

court room play by play


A month over due...but better late than never is kind of a theme for my life. ha! For those of you who couldn't be in the courtroom here is your play-by-play. Enjoy!


It was like a wedding.

The amount of preparation. The nerves. The family and friends. The new clothes. The photographer. The planning.


I was jittery. Past anxious, past excited...just jittery.


We missed our exit due to construction and had to u-turn and find it coming from the other direction. (I think Kris was jittery too) When I get nervous/anxious I tend to fidgit, tap on things, ask questions and apply lip gloss over and over again. When Kris gets nervous he gets quiet and speaks in quick short answers. Yeah, we're a great pair.




I remember wanting to sprint up the steps of the courthouse, burst thru the doors and announce to all the people waiting in line at security "Today is our adoption day!". (very monica-esque for you Friends devotees, except without the whole tripping and falling bit.)
I didn't do it, but I sure wanted to.


Our case was put at the beginning of the docket for the day. And since our group was so big they asked us to wait outside until the judge was ready. After we walked in, they allowed our whole group to stand behind us in front of the judge.


I started crying right as we got up to the table. Of course. (Thank you Maybelline for your waterproof mascara.)



The judge looked at everyone and said, "are you all adopting this child?" and because they are awesome, our group all said "Yes!" I love you guys!

He then followed that up with "this is a good way to start off the day. Adoptions are the only good thing that happens in a courthouse."

Hank was wiggly. He wanted mama, wanted dada, wanted crackers, wanted milk. But overall he did really well for a toddler.

This judge took his time. Looked through the file, asked questions and asked for paperwork. I was just praying that it was all there.


He asked our lawyer questions and asked Hank's workers questions. They all stated that they felt this was the best placement for this child. I finally breathed, for I think the first time in 15 months.




The judge approved the name change and the adoption and said "if this child turns out half as well as another man, Steve Jobs, who was also adopted. Then we will all be in good shape."



And there it was. Done. He's ours. Everyone cheered and cried. And we all hugged.



Perfect moment.

Everyone asks the same question now. "So are you so relieved it's done?" And at first I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling, so I just said yes. But I realize that relief isn't the right word for it.


It's validation.

We have finally been validated, stamped and approved.

What we have been feeling for this child since day one has finally been recognized and counted as real.


Up to this point we have been a holding place for this child until a more suitable placement was found. All the while we were jumping up and down, waving our arms wildly yelling, "look at us, look at us. I think we could be suitable. My mom thinks I'm suitable. We already love him, could you consider us."


Through this whole process it has just really brought home for me the picture of God's relationship to us. I don't have to be validated before he'll accept me. I don't have to be suitable first.


He accepts me just as I am.
everyday.
in the middle of my mess.


And I am so grateful.
so humbled.

My prayer is that I will always be that way for my children. I know they will not always be perfect...and neither will I. But I hope that they will always know that even in the middle of their mess, even when I might not love their actions or their words; that they are always my child, they can always come to me with anything, my door will always be open and that I will always love them for the person they are and for the person I know they can be.







Sunday, October 2, 2011

Count down!

Dear Hank-
Happy adoption week. It feels so overwhelming to finally be saying those words. I seem to have trouble coming to grips with the fact that we are actually at this place. It all seems so surreal, I have to pinch myself a lot.

I had a hard time coming up with something to write in the month of September. I hated to miss a month(New Years resolutions and all), but I just had no more words to write other than joyful. That was and still is the best word to describe us right now. When your cup is overflowing, sometimes words just don't do it justice.

On Friday we will change your name. You will be a Jones. I'm hoping that I don't turn into a blubbering mess in the court room, but be prepared that I probably will. We'll have video.

I hope you know that this blog is my love letter to you.
The good, bad and ugly.
It's my fight, my struggle, my tears, my heart and my love.

But I've come to terms with the fact that Love isn't always beautiful. Sometimes Love is hard and sometimes you have to fight for it. But Love is always worth it.

Someday I'll give you these pages. This thing that I started as something to keep friends and family updated on you and the status of your case turned into something very personal and theraputic. I hope you will read it and discover how beautifully God orchestrated your life. I also want you to know our heart and know how much you are loved.

I made these 'Wishes for Hank' cards for your adoption party. I'm hoping to make a book of them for you after everyone has filled them out.
Something else for you to read someday...

So here is mine:

I hope you learn... to be adventerous. There is a big world outside, and it's just waiting for you to rock it.

I hope you aren't afraid... to be different. Be a Joshua, be a Caleb, be a Daniel. Be someone that's different not to rebel, but b/c it's right.

I hope you love... Jesus, your momma!, to laugh, to be silly, to go to ballgames. I hope you love life.

I hope you get... your daddy's math skills b/c he's soo much better at it than me!

I hope you laugh... all the time b/c your laugh can light up a room.

I hope you never forget... that God has such HUGE plans for your life, and that we love you more today than yesterday.

I hope you become... the kid who includes the guy who sits alone at lunch. The kind of person who stands up for people who are being mis-treated, hurt or abused.

I hope you ignore... people who say "you can't." (except if you're grounded don't ignore that.)

I hope you respect... authority.

I hope you grow... into a man with a calm mind, a sweet spirit, and a heart that loves the Lord.

Those are my wishes for you my sweet boy. Someday you might look at me and roll your eyes at this b/c it's soo cheesy. But you'll never have to wonder how we feel about you.

You are a dream come true.
An answered prayer.
A living miracle.

I found this little verse, it seems fitting for this week:
This is the start of your sweet little story, the part where your page meets mine.
No matter where your tale takes you tomorrow our story will always read LOVE.