Who knew a dress could elicite such emotion?

Almost a year ago my parents took all of their kids and grandkids to St. Croix for a week. I looked forward to this trip with such anticipation for many reasons. For one, it had been several years since we had all been together. For another, I was desperately needing a brake and a distraction from the wait. We were exhausted from the emotion and stress of fostering and the adoption process. I couldn't wait to relax and not think about things as much. And seriously, who could feel discouraged with a view like this!


Apparently I could. Much to my dismay when we arrived in beautiful St. Croix I was more emotional than at home. We were all so excited about a time when we would all be together, yet to me, we weren't all together. I thought so much about Carington and one night even had an extremely vivid dream that I was holding her. I woke up in such a depressed state. We listened to a conference call while we were there that made it seem like things would take longer still. I was so emotional in fact that I think some in my family misunderstood my emotions. I didn't seem happy and some thought maybe I was fostering and adopting out of a sense of duty or filling a void.

Well, little did we know that while we were in St. Croix, not only had we been approved but we had already been matched with Carington. Her picture was being taken and her medical information was being compiled to send to us just one month later. And I did end up relaxing and having a wonderful time with my family.

While there I bought a doll for Carington and I'll admit that I was very attached to it. It was my little piece of her and I slept with it every night until I had her in my arms! In fact here we are on the plane ride home and you can see the doll is in my arms. (Weird I know!)

We spent that Thanksgiving in Tennessee with Greg's family like we always do. I was discouraged yet again, missing my baby. We went shopping Thanksgiving night from midnight to 3 AM. (Yes, you read that right!) At 1:30 in the morning I was in Old Navy and was struck by this adorable little sweater dress. It had bright colors and I knew that it would be adorable against her brown skin. I stood in an incredibly long line and when I got up to the counter changed my mind. I didn't know when she would join our family, what season it would be, how old she would be. I knew it was ridiculous to buy it, but the pain of putting it back on the rack was unreal.

Less than 48 hours later we received our approval, and less than 48 hours after that we gazed upon her beautiful face for the first time! So what did I do as soon as I had her measurements? I headed back to Old Navy and JOYFULLY bought that dress for this winter. Making a purchase had never brought me such joy!

Well, today was our first cold day. So I pulled out the dress (and tights and boots). I couldn't believe the emotion of seeing her in that dress. This afternoon when Carington was sleeping and the boys were watching a video, she woke up crying. At first I cringed. This was my time to get something done. But I went in and rocked her a long time. She fell back asleep against me, wearing that dress, in her room, in my arms. And I can't help but think about what my mother-in-law says, "The days may be long, but the years are short." And I take my babies for granted. Each of my kids have a painful story of our journey to them, infertility, miscarriages, orphaned. And I forget and take them for granted.

Like every family, we have those days. Ones like today where everyone is cranky, woke up to rain when we were supposed to go to the state fair, stuck in the house, disappointed kids, snotty noses (which apparently Carington thinks snot doubles as paint and the kitchen cabinets are in need of a full coat), Noah whining, Carington in the cat food for the 80th time, Aiden not wanting to do school work because he is supposed to be watching pigs race at the fair, cat pooping in the crib, Carington slinging food ALL OVER the kitchen for the 40th time, dog pooping in the garage because she won't go out in the rain, Similac has been recalled, Carington and Noah have dumped a box of wheat thins all over the kitchen floor and stomped on them because I'm trying to do something stupid like blog with 3 kids in the house kind of day.

And I get tired. And I get frustrated. And I take my kids for granted. I take everything for granted for that matter. And I don't want to. Lets face it, the fact that I have cabinets for Carington to paint her snot on means that I have more than most. I want to remember that. I want to remember the pain of infertility, of miscarriages, of the adoption journey. Then even though the days may be long, I'll still feel the overwhelming sense of how blessed I am to call these 3 amazing kids mine. And I hope that one day when I look back and realize just how short the years have been, I'll be able to say that I lived each day to the fullest. Well, lets keep it real. Maybe at least I'll be able to say I lived most to the fullest. Or some, yeah, definately I should be able to say I lived some to the fullest.

And BTW, she looked just as adorable in the dress as I dreamed she would at 1:30 AM on Thanksgiving night.

A change of plans

Well, there has been a change of plans. For those that don't know what the plan was in the first place, I will tell you. Our plan was to begin the process to adopt another daughter from Rwanda beginning mid September. Greg and I both feel very strongly that we still have another daughter out there somewhere. We've been praying a lot but not feeling like God was really telling us anything other than, yes, we do still have another daughter.

So a couple weeks ago I told God what our plan was. I learned very clearly from the experience of adopting Carington that God's plan is so so SO much better than my own. So I told Him that if this was not the right timing, if this was not according to His plan to please close the door quickly. To my utter shock 4 days later the door was slammed shut. Rwanda announced that they are putting a temporary hold on international adoptions!

My first reaction was to burst into tears. My second reaction was to cry harder. My third reaction was to erupt into wailing! And so it continued for a couple days. I cried and cried not just for my "spoiled" plan, but for the children and families who had thousands of dollars, not to mention emotions invested. Now I KNOW that this is ultimately a good thing. Rwanda is doing this to become a part of the Hague convention to prevent things like child trafficking. This is good. "This IS good", I keep telling myself. But my heart still brakes.

I am thankful that even though I didn't like the answer, God cared enough to answer my prayer. I am very thankful that we didn't start the process in early August like we had originally planned. As hard as it has been, it could have been much worse. I pray daily for the families who were so close to completing their paperwork and now are faced with very difficult decisions.

So, the new plan? Only God knows. My heart is so firmly planted in Rwanda that I can't imagine that our next child would come from anywhere else. The faces of the children left behind are a constant in my mind. Logically it just makes sense for Carington and our next child to have the same country and heritage in common. I think it would be so good for both of them. But then again, my ways are not His ways. He knows so much better than I do what is best.

So for now we wait. We wait for God's timing. We wait for Rwanda to reopen... unless God directs us otherwise, that is our plan.

And in the meantime life continues....

Aiden's first day homeschooling with sidekick Noah. He also goes to a local private school one day a week.

These 3 love riding this 4 wheeler

Noah "comforting" Carington during a thunderstorm.

Aiden's 6th birthday

A failed attempt at a decent shot of all 3 kids.

The boys "helping" Carington walk.

He lost his first 2 teeth! Where did the last 6 years go.

A goofy little girl.

And where did my last picture of Noah go? Who knows? I hate computers.

6 Months

Six months ago we were in Africa. Six months ago (on Saturday) we arrived home from Rwanda and introduced Carington to Aiden, Noah and her many grandparents. Six months ago our family finally became complete. In many ways it feels like she has always been here. Her presence in our home is so natural.... like she was meant to be here.... like this was God ordained and orchestrated. And it was!

Yet, as natural as it seems, we still have those moments. Those moments where we stand in awe and utter shock that she is actually here. Those moments where we remember the pain, the longing, the helplessness that throws you headlong into the arms of the only one that could truly be there for her, her maker.

How many times have we said as we have traveled to places we go every summer, "Last year when we came here she was 6 months old and weighed 8 pounds". How many times have we said, "remember how last summer we listened to those conference calls from our agency that always indicted a longer wait, remember how depressed we would be." How many times we have remembered the pain of her absence, the void.

Some do not understand this. They wonder how you can feel such pain over a child that is still faceless. Something amazing happens when you make the decision to adopt. You go from dreaming of the possibility to a sudden shocking realization... "I have a child on the other side of the world. I don't know who she is but God does. She is mine and I can't take care of her. Only God can." You feel very much pregnant, yet you can't have checkups to be sure your baby is OK. You can't hear her heartbeat or feel her kick, yet you love her no less. It is a huge lesson in trusting God and depending on Him to be your child's comforter.

Sometimes you feel angry that no one understands your grief, no one considers you to be expecting. You want others to understand your pain. But no one can truly understand unless they are adopting to. Just ask any family that is still waiting. The pain is very real and ever present, brimming just under the surface of smiles and common courtesies. The heart is always ready to burst and does often, just not always at times that it is seen by others.

Yet, I believe fully that this pain is a blessing. It is hard, REALLY hard, to see it at the time. But all of this pain is part of what endears you to a child that did not grow in your womb. All of this heartache is what makes you fiercely protective of a child that you have not even met. The longing seals the fact that this child, faceless though she may be, is your child. YOUR child. Truly 100% yours. She may not look like yours, but the motherly instincts and the love in your heart scream otherwise.

To those still waiting, I mourn with you. I may not have waited as long as some of you, but I grieve everyday for you. Why? Because I have seen the faces of many of your children. I know how precious they are. I know the depth of your sorrow. I know the longing in your soul to reach out and tell your child that she will never be alone again. I also know what your pain is worth. I know that joy truly does come in the morning. And best of all, we now have some small insight into what our heavenly Father is going through for us. Praise be to God for believing that I am worth the pain.

Family Trip to Isle of Palms, SC

This has been a very busy summer filled with short trips and friends and family coming to visit. We have had a great, exausting time, and its not over yet. We came home yesterday from SC after staying at a beach house for a few days with a bunch of Greg's family.

Here is the run down.

• 18 + people, 3 dogs, one house


• Greg sick the whole time (ended up in the ER last night!)


• Aiden with a cold


• Aiden with chaffed thighs from swimsuit + salt water = bad situation


• Noah throwing up one day


• Carington teething

And we still managed to have a good time! One of the highlights for me was getting to do a photo shoot on the beach with a photographer. I've been wanting to get a family photo for a while but the task seemed to daunting. This was all set up for us by some of my in-laws (thank you Bell family). I can't wait to see the professional shots.

Now I have one day to pack, head for family camp (as long as Greg is well), and return early to see my sister who will be in town for a few days from CA. Here's to an uneventful August!

Love This Family

Yes, I know. I am obsessed with pictures.

Life is crazy and hectic and tiring, but its also never been better. And I've never been happier.

Aiden continues to be the helpful, loving, and ever sensitive big brother. He is has such a sweet nature. He is contantly giving me hugs and bringing me gifts that he has found in the yard, such as leaves, rocks, or butterfly wings. Anything that he thinks will make me smile. He is a lot like his daddy.

And while Noah struggles with jealousy and general sharing issues, he really does love his sister. His favorite sentence lately (Yeah! He is putting words together!) is "Sissy no no!" With the ocasional variation of "No no Sissy!" Although it may sound like I'm being sarcastic, I am actually thrilled. A couple weeks ago it was impossible to get him to put 2 words together, much less mix it up! Noah is strong willed but also just so sweet and cuddly. And still a total Mama's boy to the core.

Carington continues to amaze us all with her progress. When we first came home she would cry if I got more than 2 feet from her. 2 weeks ago at a family reunion she crawled around visiting and smiling at everybody and waving and saying "bye bye" when people left. Yet she still wants me above all others and that is a good healthy thing right now.

She has slowed in her eating and is becoming more picky, which is also a good thing. She is learning that food is a constant and gorging is not necessary at every meal.

She really REALLY loves Aiden and Noah and tries to mimick all their words and actions. She is really tough as well and does not back down from them when there is something she wants. She gets really excited when she hears the garage door open and will crawl to the door as fast as she can to see her "Dada". She loves her Grandma's and has no problem when I leave her with them.

Carington is 17 months now. She is now 23 lbs. Thats a 6 lb. increase since we got home! She is pulling to stand and cruising along the furniture. I am very anxious for her to walk because this little girl gets FILTHY trying to keep up with her brothers outside. Also 23 lbs. of low muscle tone is hard to carry!

Anyways, just trying to give all of Carington's followers an update. Plus I'm feeling really nystalgic right now as 3 more families are leaving for Rwanda to get their kids! I'm a sentimental peron anyways, so I think every time another group leaves I'm going to relive it all again in my heart and mind.

I cannot imagine my life without my family.

And I cannot imagine life without the beauty of adoption.

It is so rich... it is so rich. That is how I feel. Rich beyond measure!

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Why Not?

I have heard it said that some think I do what I do (sponsoring, fostering, adopting) to fill some void in my life. Quite frankly this hurts. Its not that I care that much what people think of me. Its that I want them to understand that it is the joy of the Lord and His love that makes me want to do what I do. Although these things do bring me immeasurable joy, I don't do them to fill a void. I do them because of the joy, fulfillment, and peace that I have found in God. And I can't help but want... but long, to help those that He loves as much as He loves me. When I have been so blessed, how could I not want to share it.

And it is addicting!

Perhaps that is why some think I'm filling a void, because I always want to do more. (Yes, I am already thinking of adopting again.) And I suppose I will never be satisfied with what I have done. No, as long as there are starving children and orphans, I will never be satisfied.

So satisfied? No.

But filled with peace and joy? Yes.

I think being satisfied with the little bits we do can be dangerous. It leads us to give a little here, text the word "haiti" to give $10 there, perhaps even sponsor a child... and then pat ourselves on the back and say "well, at least I did something." All the while missing some other need that we could be filling.

A while back I began praying that my heart would be broken by the things that brake the heart of God. This is where it has lead me. It has brought me so much joy. (I cannot and do not want to imagine my life without Carington.) But I cannot pretend that it has not also brought pain. My thoughts and dreams are often filled with the faces of the children left behind. My heart aches for them. I long to do more. So perhaps wanting to do more is to fill a void, the void of a child that goes to bed hungery, the void of a child that works full time at the age of 5 to earn one meal a day, the void of a child with no family to call her own. These are God's children. And my life is so full because of my God. WHY NOT use my fullness to fill their void?

And in the process, yes, I receive joy. Not a filled void, but Joy in the Lord, in His ability to use little old me.

"The world is a dangerous place to live, not because of those who are evil, but because of those that don't do anything about it."- Albert Einstein

P.S. If anyone does want to sponsor a child click below. http://www.compassion.com/sponsor_a_child/default.htm?referer=82335

I know, I'm sorry. I just can't help myself:-)

The Richmond Children's Museum and a Favorite of our 3 Babies.