Every year Eli and I put in a really large garden. I mean REALLY large—tomatoes, lettuce,
onions, cucumbers, brussel sprouts, cucumbers, all the herbs, and so much more. This is the latest that we’ve ever put in our garden. Eli is so incredibly planned (and a little dorky) that he has a map of our garden and saves it year to year along with the plant and seed variety that we use. Last year we put in our garden by May 19^th. May 19^th—I mean we are currently like three weeks late, and the funny thing is that we thought we were a little late last year.

Our garden this year fell to the wayside. But yesterday we worked hard. We planted a lot, caught a lot of sun, and I even started a fresh-cut flowerbed (I’m so excited). We are happy that we still committed to planting our garden. It sustains us not just throughout the summer, but also throughout the year. We can, freeze, and share our extras with camp. And besides that it’s something that we get to do together.

Eli and I have been together for, wait for it, 14 years. We are going on 10 years of marriage. And the nurturing of our relationship, our family, has changed over time. See much like our garden this year, there have been times in our lives where other things have taken additional time, but not necessarily precedence. What do I mean by this? I distinctly remember when Eli moved into the role of Program Operations Director at camp. This was a large commitment, and it eventually led to us living on site at camp. During certain seasons it took a lot of Eli’s time, and in return, time away from one another. However, it never took precedence over the nurturing of our relationship. We just had to go about nurturing our relationship in another way. Quick lunch dates on hot summer days or a night sitting out on the dock and talking, even if it was only for a half and hour. Making the decision to expand our family was a large decision that we didn’t take lightly. We researched, had differing viewpoints at times, and talked and talked and talked. Some times, even still now, adoption tends to dominate our discussion. But then we take time just for us, away from the daily demands, the weight of the decisions we are currently faced with or will be faced with, to appreciate what we have. Last night it was panning some gold dirt (I know it’s weird), reading a book, and watching the sunset.

What I’m trying to say is that this idea of nurturing one’s marriage and relationship can apply to any situation, in any family—not just a family pursuing adoption. The definition of nurture is the process of caring for and encouraging the growth or development of someone or something. That definition doesn’t have any stipulations such as difficult times or longer waits or frustration. Nurturing is caring for and encouraging growth and development—there are no ifs, ands, buts, or excepts. See as we’ve continued this journey of adoption we’ve realized how full-circle things truly are. We have to nurture each other, so that we can nurture this journey that we’ve chosen, so that we can nurture our future child/children. Our nurturing of our relationship now, throughout this wait and always, is what has given us a 14 year relationship and 10 year marriage that I’m so proud of. It’s what has strengthened us to not only withstand this difficult journey, but has given us the perspective to rejoice in even the most difficult times.

So this year our garden may have been put in a little late. But that’s okay. As we planted it during the height of yesterday’s heat, we still laughed, sweat a lot, and really, truly enjoyed each other’s company. Now, we will water it a lot these next few days, and nurture these tasty and wonderful plants that will sustain us this summer but symbolically far beyond.

~Chelsea

 

How do you picture or imagine our future family? I know many of you are friends and family and if you’re not, you’re reading the blog because adoption in some shape or form has touched or may touch your life.

So again, I ask when you envision our future family what do you picture? How do you think you’ll feel? Will you sigh in relief because then things go back to normal and we are just a “normal” family built through different circumstances? Do you picture a kid that kind of looks like us, even though they don’t at all and have no biological connection? Will you ask questions, ask how you can support, and talk about adoption? Do you see no color, no racial difference? Will you pray and hope that our child just is cured of their “primal wound” and will attach and blend into our family without skipping a beat? Do you picture a child that looks and acts completely different than us? Will you acknowledge that our story of building our family is different but our family will also be different? Do you picture a well-adjusted, happy, carefree child? Will you think of the woman and/or man who ache every single day because of the choice they made, or will you wonder if they did drugs, had unprotected sex, lived a life of crime, or were a teen pregnancy statistic? Do you picture a child with attachment issues who struggles in school?  Will you ask questions? Or will you just offer love?

The point I’m trying to get at is I think it gets easy to think that once we find our baby, our family, everything goes back to normal. Yay, happy family, and now we are in the realm of relatability. I’m so sorry to say it, but that’s not how it’s going to be, but know this—it’s my sorta fairytale. I say it that way because a mother or father having to place a child is never ideal. A child coping and adjusting to not being with their biological family, regardless of the circumstances, is sad and difficult at times to understand. My sorta fairytale is not me looking through rose colored glasses, but it’s the acknowledgement that I know what I signed up for, and I’m ready for it. This doesn’t mean Eli and I aren’t over the moon ecstatic. This doesn’t mean that my child is certain to have “issues”. This is me being realistic.

When I picture my future family I see:

• A child who has his mother’s eyes and his father’s chin and he/she may look in the mirror and feel sad that they don’t see their biology in their parents every day
• A child who will be told their story when they want to hear it and even sometimes when they don’t want to hear it
• A child who has enough love in his/her heart that he or she can love their first parents and us
• A child who may be scared and sad one moment and joyful and happy another
• A child who is impulsive and rambunctious and fierce where I sometimes wonder if he or she got that from their first mom or from me and Eli
• A child who is loved in so many ways

Honestly, I could continue for far longer. This is my sorta fairytale. It’s different, sometimes hard, but what I signed up for.

The simplexity of it is that it is well with my soul. It is well when it’s hard. It is well when we are happy. It is well as we wait. It is well when others don’t understand. It is well on the mountains and it is well in the valleys. It is well with my soul.

~Chelsea

 

 

I’ve stared at the blank screen on my computer for a while now. I asked Eli well over a week ago if he would write the next blog post—it didn’t happen. I’m always one who has words, but right now, for this blog post, I’m just not sure what to write. There is a reason for this.

I wish I had an update. I know that many of you, our friends and family, are eagerly waiting to read our blog or to talk to us and hear that there has been some type of movement in our adoption journey. To a certain extent, I’m sure that it gets sickening or tiring to hear more about the wait…trust me, at times I’m feeling the same way. However, movement in our journey just isn’t happening right now. I’m certain that many of you are wondering why we keep stalling continuing forward; why we don’t just jump right in again. Don’t feel guilty if you have thought this. I wish I had a simple answer or a great update. Our story isn’t the Wow…we prayed, we waited, and at the exact right moment God granted us a child. I don’t say that to sound flippant, but it’s the truth.

The wait, the time, the developing of patience is a big part of the process. I’ve mentioned this before, but it couldn’t be more true. I now look at my/our journey differently, which in return, can make the process a bit more lengthy.

What I can tell you is this…we are tirelessly scouring private agencies to pursue domestic infant adoption. And let me tell you, it’s taking us a lot more time to research agencies. Through our wait I now know just how important it is to find an agency that is concerned and caring about expectant mothers (mothers who are pregnant and are considering placing their child) and future birth mothers. I don’t want to work with an agency that pressures a woman into placing. I know that’s not best for anyone—the first mother, the child, or us.

What I can tell you is this…we are very interested in the possibility of a transracial adoption, but we know that in order to do it justice we must be researched. We know that in the society, the world that we live in, love is not enough. And there will be certain things that we as “white” parents won’t be able to fully understand adopting a child of color.

What I can tell you is this…in no shape or form are we stalling or hesitating or backing out. As a matter of fact, it’s just the opposite. We are preparing. We are resting up. We are heading in with eyes wide open because we now know through our wait that adoption comes with loss.

Eli didn’t write the last blog post for the same reason that it’s taken me so long to start this one. We don’t necessarily have any big news, and we aren’t always sure what to tell you. But the weird thing is that our journey, this wait, adoption is never out of our minds. So, it’s as simple as writing a blog post, but as complex as sharing every facet of our journey.

~Chelsea

Eli loves to camp in the woods of northern Ontario. I love to curl up next to my fireplace with a good book. Eli loves the feel of a hand crafted canoe paddle gliding through crystal clear, clean water. I like to sit on my deck with the sun on my face overlooking Lake Amy Belle. When Eli is unsure of what to do he fixes things (go figure, a Fyksen who loves to fix). When I’m unsure of what to do I like to talk about things. Opposites attract and that’s where they can sometimes find their strength.

The first miscarriage that Eli and I experienced was hard enough, but we got through it. Then about seven months later we experienced our second. It wasn’t just a fluke. I had all my blood work (mind you I gave a lot of blood in those 9-10 weeks). I had two ultrasounds. We saw the heartbeat. I ate right. I was crushed. And surprisingly, my default mode wasn’t to talk. I didn’t want to talk to anyone or at least not right away. I was introspective, and I focused on facts rather than just emotions. But guess what Eli was willing to do? Talk. He would make those phone calls. He would ask me how I was doing. And on top of the talking…he would try to fix it because that’s what he does. There’s no magic solution for fixing a loss like this, but it does become a part of your story. And it doesn’t even have to be the saddest, most depressing thing. I stood through my miscarriage on my own two feet while at the same time my husband stood strong on his own two feet. The trick was we stood strong on our own but we leaned on each other, back to back.
After we wrote our home study, I was ecstatic but I was still navigating what it meant to become a mom through adoption rather than biologically. I know it may sound weird, but in today’s society, it’s tougher than you think.  Embarrassingly enough, I was looking at t-shirts that said “paper pregnant” and navigating this weird space of becoming a mother without physically, biologically going through the process. The weirdest thing was that I was stuck between this place of I could absolutely continue to try the biological route. For what it’s worth, I/we could have continued the biological route. However, after two miscarriages, and a plan to always adopt, we knew this was our path. I was unsure at first about an adoption party. Eli encouraged me. I never really liked baby showers to begin with, but I wanted to celebrate the building of our family. Eli couldn’t careless about a “baby shower”, but he encouraged it and participated in it because interestingly enough, we were meeting each other in the middle. I needed an acknowledgement societally that I was building my family and he needed to “fix” or “do” something.

In the last few months, we’ve been at an interesting crossroad. We’ve gone from intense
anger at our agency, to interest in fostering to adopt, to submitting to the process, to solace in the uncertainty but confidence in the decision. What I’m trying to say is this…I can stand on my own two feet. I’ve found my strength. I guess I’ve always had it. But I’m so much more sturdy when I stand strongly on my own while leaning on Eli because how we do and view things differently is what offers us strength when we come together.

~Chelsea

 

 

 

The road to adoption can sometimes be lonely, and I’m not currently a parent through adoption, but I must imagine that the road after adoption can be lonely, too. I mean it makes sense, right? My family will come together in a different way. My child may act differently due to certain circumstances, and he/she will not look like Eli or me. Talking about adoption and how we got here can sometimes make people uncomfortable, and I understand that. That’s just our path right now. So, yes, at times I feel lonely. I feel different. Maybe even un-relatable.

However, support in the world of adoption means everything. I know it may feel awkward to give it or that you’re worried about saying or doing the wrong thing, but acknowledging what we are constantly thinking about and going through means so much. We’ve been incredibly blessed to be supported in a wide variety of ways throughout our adoption journey, and it means the absolute world to us. That support is what continues to fuel our fire in building our family in what we know is the best way possible for us. Sometimes this support is in the form of a card from a friend at work who always seems to know the exact right thing to say and when to say it. Other times it’s a quick text message to check in and see how we are doing and knowing that we may not be able to tell you what we need at that time. It has been the person/people who always ask, knowing that we never forget. It’s the person that doesn’t mention the adoption, but knows that we don’t have kids at home, and are sure to see what we are up to. It’s the prayers, the tears, the hugs, and the love. It’s all of it, but most of all it’s just acknowledging.

So bottom line—THANK YOU! Thank you for being there. Thank you for the cards. Thank you for the books. Thank you for the prayers. Thank you for listening. Thank you for reading our blog. And thank you for loving us—all of us. In our happy moments, our sad moments, our weird moments, and our moments of uncertainty. Keep it coming because we want you to know we need it. See in this case, it doesn’t just take a village to raise a child. It takes a village to build our family.

~Chelsea

Mother’s Day. This year typing those two words means something different to me than it has in the past. Before I started my journey through the adoption process I feel like I had a veil over my eyes. Truly, I saw the world differently. The beauty of adoption is that to truly do the best thing for your future family, you MUST look at things from all angles.

Every bump, every curve, every exhilarating and sometimes scary ride down this road of adoption has helped to lift that veil that was, and sometimes still is, over my eyes. Mother’s Day. What a beautiful day to honor moms. It truly is, and please do not think that I am taking away anything from that. But this year, I’ve had all sorts of different thoughts about Mother’s Day.

• I’ve thought about how a woman must feel to see yet another Mother’s Day and no positive pregnancy test, and yet all she’s ever wanted was to be a mom.
• I’ve thought about how a mother’s heart must pitter and patter when her child brings her a beautiful hand painted card with the word “Mommy” scribbled in finger paint.
• I’ve thought about the daughter or son whose heart aches as they remember their mom who is not with them anymore.
• I’ve thought about how a mom must feel this Mother’s Day who is seeing her child celebrate Mother’s Day as a mom for the first time and how amazing that must feel.
• I’ve thought about the child who hates Mother’s Day because his or hers isn’t there or doesn’t know how to be a present and loving parent.
• I’ve thought about the mother who loves her child from afar and aches this year but lives strongly every day in that decision.
• I’ve thought about a child wondering if it’s okay to wonder about their birth/first mother on Mother’s Day and I’ve thought about the adoptive parent praying that their child knows that it’s okay to love them both.
• I’ve thought about a mom holding her baby or child this Mother’s Day who is thinking that miracles truly do happen.

I look at Mother’s Day through a different lens. Please know I’m not taking anything away from it. I’ve just learned that Mother’s Day may seem very simple, but a lot of the time the feelings surrounding it can be much more complex. How do you sum up joy, elation, sorrow, gratitude, and jealousy all in one word? Simplex.

~Chelsea

 

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

This is not my life—it’s A Tale of Two Cities of course!

It’s funny because when I’m in my most melodramatic mood that quote is how I feel. However, I know in my rational mind that it’s just me being overly dramatic. Don’t get me wrong…the last two years have been trying at times, but I know that the things I’ve experienced are not truly “hard”. I have so much to be thankful for. The last two years have been interesting and most definitely up and down.

I’ve experienced the joy of finding out I was pregnant. I saw a heartbeat on the ultrasound screen. What a miracle! I’ve experienced choosing that I was going to build my family through adoption. This was a feeling of such incredible joy and a knowing that I was doing exactly what I was meant to do. I decorated a nursery. I started a blog. I went back to graduate school. I traveled and took amazing road trips. I ate amazing and incredible food and drank some fantastic beer.

In the last two years, I lost two pregnancies. I left the agency that I thought would place me with my first child. My home study expired. The nursery that I started decorating last year has now become more of a storage room. Work has at times been difficult. I’ve been worried about the political climate and state of our nation.

So, “it was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”. No, not really. But it hasn’t been easy. Lately, I’ve been feeling tired. Not sad. Tired. On all fronts…work, adoption, life. My selfish mind just wants something to be easy for once. Everything doesn’t have to be easy, but could just one thing work out easily? What do I mean? I mean I wish I didn’t have to fight so hard for our planet, for the well being of other people. I wish that at work I could just teach. That’s all–just teach. I wish that I could raise the child/children that Eli and I were meant to raise.

However, “it was the age of wisdom…”. And I’ve learned. So what? I’m tired? Things haven’t been easy? That’s life. This is not hardship in the true sense of the word. It’s uncomfortableness (yes, I know that’s a made up word). It’s overwhelming emotion. It’s frustration. But it’s not hardship.

So what do you do when you’re tired? You rest. You refuel. You work to become energized. You make something happen, even if it isn’t easy. And that’s what we are going to do. We are researching. We’ve narrowed some things down. And we are making our next move. Because I’m not just going to settle on the “winter of despair” but instead I’m going to make it “the spring of hope”.

~Chelsea

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This morning I woke up, got ready, and already felt a little crabby before I got to my car to drive to work. This isn’t normally like me. I try to start my day off on the best foot possible. I really do believe you choose your mood. And I did choose my mood—a snarky one. Ever have one of those days? I wasn’t in a bad mood. I wasn’t having a bad day. I just was a bit of a complainer.

You know…I complained about it feeling like it should be Friday even though it really is just Thursday. I complained about not having what I wanted for lunch. I complained and griped about work stuff. Bottom line…I complained. But then I got in my car after work. I rolled the windows down. I cranked the radio, and I looked at the beautiful trees leafing out on my entire drive home (don’t worry, I did pay attention as I was driving). What good did complaining do? It didn’t. It did nothing, except make me upset and irritated, and I’m sure it didn’t lighten the mood of those around me.

Recently I’ve learned a super valuable lesson. I love knowledge. I consider myself a seeker of knowledge. I love learning new things and gaining wisdom. However, knowledge is meaningless and worthless unless you put that knowledge into action. I know that complaining isn’t all that helpful. I know that it doesn’t get me anywhere, yet I still did it anyway. I didn’t take that knowledge and put it into action.

I really am a person of action. I do believe that what I do, what you do, what we do has a long lasting impact. I believe in this almost more than I’ve ever believed in anything. On the road of adoption it looks pretty damn tough and bleak if you don’t think that your knowledge put into action makes a difference. Please know I’m not talking about being “chosen” to adopt a child. I’m not talking about the pace at which I am placed with a child or children.   What I’m talking about is that I know that there are populations of people in this country that are discriminated against. I know that it is tough to be a woman and even tougher if you are a woman of color. I know that love is just not the only thing that matters when you’re raising a child. I know that knowledge is power. So, if I know these things I have to take action. Because, the fact of the matter is, this does all relate to adoption. This does all relate to my future child. And I know that by me taking action to better and change these things, my child or my future children will have that much better of a life.

So seeking out knowledge is easy; however, putting what you know into action…it’s a bit simplex.  But like most simplex things–worth it.

~Chelsea

We have all heard the adage “When the going gets tough…”

What happens next?  “The tough get going,” isn’t that the one?  This phrase of course means that when life’s challenges appear, the people who are ready to meet those challenges will rise up and show themselves.  Some suggest that one can only learn about one’s true strength when they show how they react to the difficulties they have to face.

We have countless examples of this throughout our history:

• Colonel Harland Sanders, founder of KFC, convinced he had a winning recipe, was turned down 1,008 times before he finally heard the word, “yes”.
• Walt Disney, recipient of 22 academy awards, was fired from a newspaper for “lack of imagination with no original ideas”
• Oprah Winfrey was told she wasn’t “fit for television” and was removed from her job as a news anchor.  She is now described by many as “arguably the world’s most powerful woman”

These are all great stories of maintaining perseverance in the midst of rejection and turmoil.  “When the going gets tough…” Admittedly so, perseverance, hard work and determination are all important qualities to possess, but let’s talk about the not so obvious pieces of these stories.  Ever wonder who that 1009^th person was that really loved the colonel’s chicken?  What did someone else see in Walt Disney that showed them he was an original, imaginative person?  Who took a chance on Oprah when others had written her off?  Or maybe it was simply divine intervention?  Are you someone, like me, who believes God intervenes constantly into our lives?  Or doesn’t, but for important purposes that I certainly don’t understand.

How do we typically react to situations where the “tough have to get going?” Situations like miscarriages, inadequate adoption agencies, other people not understanding our circumstances, or constant reminders that you don’t have children even though it’s what you desperately desire.  I know my tendency when faced with opposition is to rely on me–my strength, wits and ingenuity.  Or I rely on Chelsea, family and friends.  All great options but in reality for me it is His plans that I need to trust, even if I have been led into a difficult spot.

To be truly tough, should we surrender while others are still fighting?  There is only so much I can do about my wife having had two miscarriages or my former adoption agency being inadequate.  Eventually things are out of my control and I need help…wherever that comes from.  The tough refuse to fold under what is seen and refuse to rely on human logic or strength alone because inevitably we will encounter situations that are beyond our control and scope of understanding.

So, are you standing in the face of opposition?  Is it a person? A circumstance or dilemma contradicting what you desire most in life with every fiber of your being?  How are you choosing to handle it?  I know in my life, with my circumstances, in the fears and feelings I’m feeling so intensely right now, I know how I am choosing to handle it.

In life, sometimes we need to adopt the age old adage “when the going gets tough, the tough get going” and sometimes we need to simply…”surrender.”

~Eli

 

Woe is me. We’ve had two miscarriages. We’ve had to change agencies. It’s been a long time…I mean a really long time (or at least it’s felt that way). We’ve wrestled with decisions. We aren’t exactly sure of the outcome. Another baby shower to go to or our friends having their second kids and we haven’t even added a child to our family (really, we promise we’re happy for you—just stings a bit). Man, this is rough.

Well, got grit? Show that you can be that gritty girl that you aspire to be. Every experience offers you an opportunity to gain insight and wisdom. Open up your eyes, get tough, and be thankful.

Hello…my name is Chelsea and, yes, I sometimes have pep talks with myself. The fact of the matter is that I know our story can sound a little sad at times. I know that I can get a little weepy, and hey, I definitely know that I’m dramatic. But the honest truth is that I’m happy. No, really…I’m so happy and it doesn’t take all that much to make me happy.

I love watching my husband dance in the kitchen. It makes me laugh. No, I mean it really makes me laugh. You know, those deep belly laughs that make your sides ache. He claims that he can really move his body (now if you know my husband, just imagine that). It’s something else.

I love the mornings in spring when the sun is out and it’s already warm at 7:00, and my sunglasses are on, and I’m belting out my favorite tune.

I love trying new and different types of food and beer. I know it sounds simple, and yes, very Wisconsin, but I LOVE it.

I’m so thankful for the house that I live in. It may seem small to some people, but I love it. I love living on a camp. I love looking out my windows in my living room and seeing the sunset over Amy Belle Lake.

I’m so thankful to have such incredible friends and family. The love and support of the people around us is not only amazing but it feels limitless.

I’m so thankful to be able to express myself through writing.

Honestly, the list could go on and on when thinking of what I love and am thankful for: trees, the right to demonstrate/protest/assemble (those of you that know me know how I feel about activism), my health, my amazing co-workers and students that I get to work with, traveling, and so much more.

But bottom line, I’m thankful for this process. I may need to vent every now and then or get a little weepy, but I am happy and thankful for this process. I’ve needed it. My future family, God willing, will be made through adoption, and although the world looks at adoption through this lens of “how wonderful it is to give a child in need a home” it’s not that simple, nor is it true. This journey has taught me to dig deeper. To look past this privileged life I’ve been given. Adoption will be a blessing, a joy in our life. However, there is loss in adoption. And let’s face it, my road, my journey has been paved in comparison to the loss that many first families (birth parents) and their children, my future child/children experience.

See the simple thing is being happy. The complex thing is being happy but still having your eyes wide-open to the truths and experiences around you. So, as Rend Collective said, “Take me deeper than my feet could every wander, and my faith will be made stronger.”

~Chelsea