Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Sweetest Three Year Old

Trimming the Tree

Our special ornaments from Great-Grandma Janet.

"Here you go, Mommy!"

The girls had so much fun taking them out of the box.

Swaddled Dollies

The girls are loving their dolls these days, and their favorite thing to do is swaddle them and rock them to sleep. (Yes, that is a headband on top of a hat on Roons...she recently upped her daily minimum of hair accessories to two at a time.)

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Verity's 3rd Birthday Party

The Birthday Girl!!!

A dolly from Auntie LuLu Bean...

Rooney took off with her "purse."

Monday, November 14, 2011

Birthday Yummyness

Verity wanted a butterfly birthday party this year...

Cookie Pops!!!

My approving "taste-tester."
She and Gethey went nutso over these...they were the hit of the party.

The finished products...

A Butterfly Birthday cake...strawberry cake with buttercream frosting.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Three Years Ago Today...

...we were matched with Verity's birthmother!

The other day Verity and I were snuggling and she had her blankie from her birthmother. When I asked who gave it to her, she said, "Jessica."

"And do you remember who Jessica is?"

"In her tummy."

"You grew in her tummy?"

"Yes. 'Cause Mommy's tummy is broken."

Then, I hugged her tighter and praised her for remembering.

Later, I cried.

It is one thing to tell your baby she was adopted from day one. It is another to hear it from her own voice for the first time.

I've heard it is common for adopted children to wish they grew in their mother's tummy, around ages 3-5. That makes sense. You know what? I wish that too. I wish Verity and Gethey grew in my tummy. I wish I were with them every moment of their lives, been the one to nourish and protect them while they grew. I wish I had given them birth. I wish that their birthmothers didn't have to go through the immense pain that they did. Yes, these are crazy wishes. Its like wishing an In-N-Out burger has zero calories. The heart wishes some crrraazzzyyy things. If they grew inside me, they would not be them, with their special DNA, and oh, so stinkin' cute curls. And I would a million and one times rather have THEM then have had a biological child. When you think about it, that fact that WE ended up with THEM is a complete and utter miracle of astounding proportions.

Adoption is wonderful... of all the people in the world, I can pretty much guarantee you that I will sing its praises the loudest. But it is a blessing and a gift that is not without pain. The tears of longing of a not-yet mother, the tears of a birthmother's shattered heart...it is marked by loss and grief. It is a beautiful example, I think, of how God weaves magic in this broken world, to bring about an even greater good. Maybe in a perfect world, everyone who wanted a baby would have one, and only when they were ready. Maybe no parents would die. No mother would have to choose an adoption plan for the baby kicking inside her. Maybe there would be no need for adoption.

But this is not a perfect world. It is a world of broken tummies, broken hearts, broken families, broken...everything.

But it IS a world of strength. Strong hearts that long for, search for, and fight for the children that were meant to be theirs. Strong hearts that love their children enough to choose the best life for them, even when it feels like their own lives are ending. And most of all, a God of Wonder, who mends hearts, fulfills dreams, and entwines lives together in amazing and wondrous ways.

If we were not infertile, we would still have wanted to adopt. I didn't adopt my girls because I couldn't get pregnant. I adopted them because they were meant to be mine, and that was somehow written on my heart, theirs, and their birthmothers'. They are in no way "second" choices. They are the first and most perfect choices of all. My infertility was a small piece in our particular puzzle that led to our particular meant-to-be girls. Other people have different pieces, different arrows, different threads. But for me, my infertility was a big piece. The pain enlarged my heart, made me the mother I am. It caused us to prioritize financially for adoption earlier than we may have, had I gotten pregnant. It may have been a factor in our birthmothers choosing us in particular.

Maybe in a perfect world my tummy would not be broken. But in a perfect world I would not have my perfect daughters.

Thank you, God, for my brokenness.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Heart Melt

So, yesterday, Verity was sitting in the time out corner of the living room. Gethey ran up to her, squatted down to her eye level, and said, clear as a bell, "I forgive you."

Carving Pumpkins

Rooney's "Pump Pump"

My daughter. Look at that art. And the pen hold.

What a Daddy. Bucket drew a beautiful design all over her pumpkin. Then Daddy spent the next hour painstakingly carving every little line she drew.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Friday, October 28, 2011