every time i open up my computer to blog i am paralyzed. it's like i can't write, form thoughts, or tap my fingers on the keyboard. i think it's just exhaustion. and it's hard to write about things that are so emotionally exhausting, you know? anyway, we need to keep everyone updated. so here we go.
E's birth mother relinquished her rights on may 15th, after a long two-year battle of coming to realize she wasn't equipped to raise her children. i can't write how i feel because it's flood inside my heart and it's kind of hard to understand how i'm feeling. i've been unpacking it for several days now so i think i'm finally ready to write about it.
we got the call on a monday night from the district attorney that she was ready to relinquish her rights. we just had to agree to some open adoption terms, which we were truly happy to do. on friday we all showed up at the court house to agree to the terms under oath, and watch birth mom sign her rights away before the judge.
that morning i thought i would feel intense relief, but instead i felt intense grief.
many of you know that i have two brothers. my oldest brother passed away when i was 18. the same formulation of feelings were swirling around my head on may 15th as the day we buried my brother, chris. it was like i was dressing for a funeral that morning.
birth mom, i will call her A, was sweet, tender, sad. unlike the other times i've seen her where she's been hard-hearted. i was able to show her pictures of E on my phone while we waited to stand before the judge. the daughter she hasn't seen in over a year. she had no idea what she looked like. she said "she's beautiful" and i said "she looks like you" then i just watched as her eyes welled up with tears.
we watched her sign away her rights before the judge at 10:30 am and i've never known a love so sad as what was filling up that courtroom. i learned that day that to feel Jesus' presence doesn't always mean it feels good. that sometimes you just sit in the sadness with Him and let the waves take you under without fighting for air. just let it drag you under water. He will bring you back up to air eventually, but not until it's time. and in those moments we just had to sit with Him, in that courtroom, in the sadness for a while.
as A agreed under oath to let go of her precious girls, and tears were falling off of her chin onto the podium, i knew my heart would never operate the same way again. it was like God carved out a fissure onto my heart and said "she will live here. with you. forever."
as you read this and think about us over the next weeks and months, will you please pray for birth mom? sometimes i don't even know how to pray for her, so i just pray that God hugs her. that she can feel His arms holding her up.
to say i could ever put into words how grateful i am to her would be foolish. it can't be defined or written or explained, so i won't even try. but i will say this:
finally.
so what's next for us? we hire an attorney and start the adoption process. it could be finalized as early as july. we will keep everyone posted.
big hugs,
chelsie
