We share a lot of our lives through this blog—hopes, fears, learning curves (as cringe-worthy as they may be), and experiences, among many other things.  Just so you are certain and aware, we don’t share it all.  We definitely practice discretion—for the sake of our potential future children and for ourselves.  So what does that mean?

We’ve read profiles, said “no”, been told “no”, waited for and sat through very important meetings and phone calls, and have searched the depths of our soul to make sure we are ALWAYS making informed, ethical, and responsible decisions. And sometimes we ask for support and advice, but more often than many can imagine we rely a lot on faith, one another, those in the adoption community, and the wisdom we have tried to obtain throughout this journey. 

Our situation is really unique and heart wrenchingly beautiful.  I love children that aren’t mine. My potential future children have a history and it is far more complicated that just finding them an “Eli” and “Chelsea”. And although I am so excited to add children to my family, there is pain in knowing that I won’t know the foods they’ve never tried, or rocked them to sleep when they were restless, or taught them to read their first words.  But the beauty is that I will get every intentional first and I won’t take a one of those firsts for granted.  

            The first time they let me hug them—the willing, full, strong hug.

            The first time I see their shoulders relax and them see our house as a safe place.

            I never expect it, but the first time they willingly call me “Mom” or call Eli “Dad”.

Our future family may look different, but it will encompass so much more than what I ever could have imagined (and the wait, education, and perseverance set me up for this)…our children’s past, adjusting to the present, and making way for the future.

Currently, we are at a new juncture of our adoption journey, and we aren’t really sure if it will push us left, right, or forward. We know you all don’t know our path…and we don’t exactly know our path, but we also know we aren’t sharing it all anyways (we know you understand). But please know that no matter where we end up…we are the lucky ones, the blessed ones to be able to choose this experience. The children that we already love didn’t have a choice—and the simplex thing about that is that it doesn’t make them lucky or blessed if they end up with us.  

~Chelsea

On the almost eve of a  “New Year” reflection is pretty natural.  I honestly feel as if I’m experiencing déjà vu as I write this, as there have been a few “new years” that have lapsed since we began this journey.  The amazing thing is that although my home, partner, job hasn’t changed in those years, I sure have.  

I had an opportunity tonight to look at where our blog Simplexitystarted and compare it to where it is now.  Honestly, I looked at the About and The Back Story: Part One and The Back Story: Part Two on our site and it made me cringe.  For a moment, I thought about changing the Aboutfor our blog, but I don’t want to erase any part of this journey no matter how different I now feel. What still rings true in the part of the About on our blog is, “We are walking this path with eyes wide open and are learning more than we ever thought possible and want to document our journey in a ‘real’ and ‘authentic’ way.”  As I looked at previous blog posts, I felt a little heartache, some embarrassment and naiveté, but really a lot of pride.  I’ve come a long way, damn it.  I know a lot more…but I don’t plan to stop here.  Of course there are many areas I want, okay, need to work on.  But as it pertains to adoption I learned in 2018:

• how to wait until I knew I was ready to move…no matter how much people may have thought that I was just stalling on making a decision as to where I would go next. This took me all the way until the middle of April 2018 to commit to another agency.  That time was sometimes spent in silence, a lot of reading, and relying on faith to set me up to be prepared for loss.  Not mine…but for the children that may come to us.  It prepared me, if I can really say that, to read redacted profiles, to admit I wasn’t the best placement for some children, and to put myself out there expecting nothing in return.  And it has been my absolute privilege.  
• how to let go of the societal pressures that weighed on me.  And you wanna know what? I realized they weighed on me because what I want is not what society always values.  I WANT to adopt school age children.  I’m ready to celebrate and own that. 
• how fortunate I have been to be raised to appreciate and participate in social activism.  However,this year I’ve learned that my privilege as a white female has allowed me to pick and choose when and how to use my activism.  I now not only acknowledge my privilege, but take active measures be an ally to a wide-variety of communities.
• I’ve learned there are seasons to life, but you have to endure them to experience them.  There is a lot of beauty there.  It’s the changing of the seasons, no matter how long they take that make us wise.

So where does that leave me for 2019? Pretty damn open.  I plan to learn more.  I plan to listen more.  I plan to embrace the seasons of my life, even if that season is sometimes winter. But I’m not “happy” or “sad” that 2018 ended because every year of my life, and more specifically, this journey, has humbled me and taught me some pretty amazing lessons.  So here’s to the simplexity of ringing in another what is sure to be simplex New Year. Cheers!

~Chelsea

Have you ever made a decision, set out on a new adventure, and/or faced a difficult but beautiful choice, and have felt within every bone in your body that you couldn’t be more certain that this is the path, the journey, you are supposed to take?  It really is indescribable.  I’ve heard about these things, even read about them.  A lot of the time when they are presented in movies the dramatic background music starts up and as it crescendos there is a close up on the lead actor or actresses face.  He or she looks into the camera, tears welling in his or her eyes, as a beautiful smile of certainty spreads across his or her face.

That movie scene is NOT what I’m talking about because let’s face it—real life is not a movie.  But what I am talking about is that every fiber in my being knows that I was meant to pursue adoption.  Notice how I carefully chose my words—to pursue adoption.  I don’t know what I’m destined for, and I sure as hell know that children weren’t meant to go through pain to fulfill my destiny of being their mom. But what I do know is that I was meant to take this path—to pursue adoption.

And guess what?  There is so much happiness in that.  So much peace.  Eli and I were driving to brunch the other day and were talking about this very thing. It’s hard to describe.  We were talking about the frustration or impatience we feel at times, but that it’s felt still in a peaceful way.  That couldn’t be any more of oxymoron, could it? And guess what makes it really confusing?  There is so much comfort in that peace when uncomfortable feelings rise. 

Yes, the wait is hard.  

Yes, we don’t know what our future holds.  

Yes, the rest of the world doesn’t really get what we are doing or why we do things and talk about things the way we do.  

But more importantly, yes, we are so happy—and we are happy whether or not a placement ever occurs.  Because there is peace in knowing you are exactly where you are supposed to be—pretty simplex, huh? 

~Chelsea

Those of you who know me know that I don’t cry often.  It’s just not something I do.  Especially in public.  I can remember crying twice in public…my wedding and my grandpa’s funeral.  I’ve definitely cried in front of Chelsea, and of course on multiple occasions in private.  I’m just not that guy.  Some would describe it as closed off, some emotionally immature, some as a “hardened” male farm kid.  Really it’s not those reasons…and in my “old age” I’ve figured it out.  It’s because in order to cry, especially in public, it has to be something that’s big enough, life-altering enough, and I feel to the very core of my being.  For many I’m sure that looks like a marriage, a child being born, a death of a loved one, or another one of those “life-changing” events thrown our way.  

If you would have told me 3 days ago I would cry in public because of a movie I would have promptly, curtly, but respectfully told you that you were full of s***.  

**DISCLAIMER**  

Crying is not weakness. I’m not suggesting that in the least. I think it’s good to cry.  I think humans should cry more, and the stigma attached to it should disappear.  In many cases I think crying makes us stronger.  It for sure relieves stress and in turn makes us more mentally healthy people.  It can dull pain, improve mood, help us recover by restoring emotional balance, and even reduce the chances of heart attack.  Okay, now I feel weak and a little messed up.

**END DISCLAIMER**

Chelsea came to the realization a number of months ago that she doesn’t really like watching movies. Didn’t see that coming, did you? I know, I was disappointed for her as well.  But when you are in the throes of adoption and a movie about adoption comes out you have to see it.  Instant Family…sounds like I just might like one [sic].  So we saw it. And I bawled like a baby (and I’m not ashamed to admit it). I’m not talking about getting a little choked up—I’m talking the baby needs to be fed, a diaper change and overtired all rolled into one.  Soggy popcorn is gross.

So I cried watching it for two reasons: because it’s my life on a big screen and because it’s just such a huge part of my life.  I’m not saying that a part of the movie was like a part of my life.  I’m not saying that the movie was just like my life. I’m saying that the movie IS my life. 

I cried because the things that happen to that family in the movie are things that HAVE happened to me. I’ve locked up the power tools and put everything on high shelves to pass a home study.  I’ve had you compare my adoption to adopting a dog.  I’ve heard the joke about how I can “have your kids if I want them.”  I’ve had you ask me if I hope my kid is going to be good at sports or if I can just “pick one out.”  I’ve heard these things in my life. 

I cried because the things that happen in that family are HAPPENING to me.  I’m scouring websites looking at children who need a home.  I’m educating myself to be the best parent I can be.  I’m looking through profiles of teens and their trauma and asking the hard questions to decide if I can really do it.

I cried because the things that happen in that family are GOING to happen to me.  I’m going to have kids who come from trauma.  I’m going to have children who were someone else’s first. I’ll go through the honeymoon period. I’ll see the long lasting effects of agony and anguish in my children’s lives.

So for those of you who want to be like Siskel and Ebert, pull up a chair, grab a bucket of popcorn, a soda, and get a good seat for what is my life.  Because like it or not, many of you are watching the movie that is my life, some are extras and many have a major part in the plot.  I’m not going to win an Academy Award, nor am I asking to, but I can’t wait to get on to the next scene. 

Roll credits…but stay in your seat and wait for that extra hidden scene, because it’s coming.

~Eli

I know I’ve been blogging a bit more frequently lately, but when the inspiration strikes me I feel compelled to write.  And lately, I’ve got inspiration.

I know many of our friends and family have seen that we’ve been at work on adding a third bedroom to our home.  It’s not exactly how we had envisioned our Thanksgiving break, but it’s where we are.  What many of you don’t know is some of the back-story behind the rush to build the room.

Throughout this journey we have had many ups and downs.  And although to many of you they may not seem necessary, Eli and I both view them as truly valuable learning experiences. We’ve experienced change, many life-altering decisions, and patience.  And honestly, there hasn’t been a journey in either one of our lives that has been so transformational.  

And through this process we’ve learned it isn’t about us.  And it doesn’t matter whether or not we are disappointed or frustrated.  What does matter is a child or children and what is best for them.  We understand this.  We’ve prepared for this.  We were ready for this.  

But adoption threw a curve ball and still managed to surprise us. What we weren’t prepared for was being a very good potential match for two beautiful children, but being passed solely on the basis that a third bedroom hadn’t been built yet. Please don’t be angry.  Although with this information we experienced frustration and a bit of sadness, we aren’t angry.  Why you may ask?  Because why should two amazing children have to wait for a family solely on the basis of a bedroom if there was another potential family out there and ready for them. Don’t they deserve an incredible family who will love and provide for them right now at this very moment?  We believe they do and that means understanding that it wasn’t us. See adoption, for everyone involved, is full of “what ifs”, “maybes”, and a lot of uncertainty.  And although the adults involved may have to experience this, the children shouldn’t have to.

A year ago, this would have really rocked me. The hurt would be raw and I would need time to heal.  But wisdom, a whole lot of grit, and a bit of grace has given us a new perspective.  It isn’t about us.  Imagine a child in the system…there are a ton of “what ifs”, a whole lot of “maybes”, and a crazy amount of uncertainty.

So what have we learned from the experience? Expect the unexpected. Rise to the occasion.  And control what is in your ability to control—like building a third bedroom over Thanksgiving break.  

The simplex thing about adoption is it’s about building a family, maybe building another room, and waiting patiently to do what is in the best interest of kids.

~Chelsea

Swollen glands, dull headache, general “yuckiness”.  Today I stayed home sick from work. Being the type of person I am, I just hate doing this.  But today was a day where I just needed to rest and pull inward. 

Eli and I have been super busy lately, and we are starting to hit that point in our health, in our adoption journey, in our social calendar, in our work calendar that we just need to take some time to pull inward. To go a little insular.  The crazy thing about self-care is what makes it so difficult is that the world around you keeps turning.  Work doesn’t slow down.  The holidays approach.  The day-to-day demands are still there.  However, some demands just can’t be put on hold.  In my under the weather state, a recent update has bumped building a third bedroom up to the very top of the priority list. And we’re hoping we can get it done in just a few weeks. Don’t get any ideas; it won’t be full yet, but our hope is that by building it we will get to that point.  

So as we enter the craziness of cold and flu season, the bustling of the holidays, and now the building of a bedroom to hopefully help to build our family, we pull inward.  We go a little insular.  And we take care of ourselves because the simplexity of building our family is pretty exciting, very emotional, and can sometimes make us feel just a little under the weather.

~Chelsea

I suggest if you have never seen the mountains (I mean real mountains not Granite Peak in Wausau or one of Wisconsin’s ski hills) you have to see them.  To take in the beauty, majesty and grandeur is awe inspiring. I’ve seen mountains before as a teen but what I saw this time as an adult I wasn’t prepared for.  You see, I have had a little more life experience now and am able to appreciate the beauty seen in the mountains.  But this also means that I can know, and feel, the enormity that is there as well.  I don’t mean “oh, those are some towering peaks.” I mean take your breath away, crush your chest, wonderment.  Almost to the place of fright and trepidation.  It’s almost unexplainable.  I liken it akin to space…you can see it, know it’s there, understand it to an extent, but can’t fully comprehend the enormity.  It makes me feel small, makes my problems feel small. But guess what?  I’m a small person, and to feel that chest crushing weight of life, similar to the mountains, is not only normal but unavoidable. 

Today for me was one of those days.  I can’t really put my finger on what seems to be crushing my chest.  Probably just life in general.  Like many I had a busy summer, busy fall, and now the holidays are quickly approaching.  Like many life just gets in the way.  Things I want to do, people I want to see, places I want to go that I just want be able to make happen.  Adoption…adoption…adoption.  It hasn’t been an easy road.  I’m not saying that in a take pity on me, support me, do something for me sort of way.  I don’t need it, not now.  But I recognize it’s been long, exciting, sad, happy, inspiring, challenging, and long. I know, I know for some it isn’t that way.  Most have a brother’s, uncle’s, cousin’s, friend who started the process and it happened in a month. And that’s fine, great, and wonderful-I truly say that with the utmost sincerity.  But for some it’s a different story.  That’s the lane I’m in.  

Please don’t take this as me throwing a pity party for myself-not happening.  Just saying it’s long…today I feel it.  I feel the chest crushing enormity of it all.  It’s like looking at a mountain, there are some things that you just know are bigger than you.  This is one of those things.  It’s about a child’s life…let me repeat that…a child’s life, for the rest of their life.  We aren’t talking a dog, cat, hamster or ferret.  Not the same.  It’s a big honking deal.  Today I feel that.

I feel the weight of trying to be an “instant parent.” There isn’t a grace period that my child will just be in a crib, stroller, or pack and play.  (I understand there are challenges to that as well, not taking anything away from anyone) I won’t have time to read up, ask others how they did it, or freedom to do other things while my child can’t really move that much. It’s on the go from the get go.

I feel the weight of my future child’s past.  I feel that already.  My child is going to come to me with a past.  That past will have already, and will in the future, affect their personality, how they think and how they react.  I have prepared for this weight but that doesn’t mean it can’t crush me. I can prepare to summit a mountain too but that doesn’t me it wouldn’t crush me.  Once that child is in my home I will feel that weight even more and I know that.  When you summit the mountain you still have to get down right?

I feel the weight of the process.  Packing for an Everest summit attempt isn’t easy.  It’s part of the overall challenge.  Preparing for adoption hasn’t been easy.  The process itself has been daunting.  Today I feel it.  The home studies, preparation, education, more education, inquiring, tracking, sending our home study, hearing no, tracking again, did I mention education? It’s all right, it’s all good, it’s all needed…but I feel it.  

So I guess all that to say…it’s one of those days that the mountain of life is right in front of you…you feel its enormity, its grandeur.  It is awe inspiring and wonderful but the weight of it is crushing. You prepare for it, hope to summit, and hope to come back down alive in one piece. But we can’t be 100% sure that it’s going to happen.  Those are the days that feel more COMPLEX than simplex. 

~Eli

The sun rises.  The day is filled with hustling and bustling. The sun sets.  As humans, we sometimes feel as if the world should stop and wait for us.  But amidst all of life’s changes and challenges, the one constant is that the earth keeps rotating, the sun will rise, and the sun will set.  The world around us continues to move on.

Sometimes throughout our journey it felt difficult that everything else seemed so “normal” when we felt like we were stuck in the “in-between” of this path towards adoption.  However, ironically enough, I take great solace in the constant of the world rotating. Of each day starting anew.  Of gaining more knowledge and becoming wiser in the days we are waiting.  Isn’t it crazy how when faced with various opportunities, some challenging and others enriching, we can choose how we want to look at those opportunities?

Since the completion of our 2^ndhome study in the end of July we have continued to grow and learn so much.  I know that from an outside perspective it may seem as if we are at a stand still, but we are not in any way, whatsoever.  We have been actively inquiring on children, and in all honesty, we hear, “No, this may not be the right fit,” or “We would rather not relocate children at this time,” more often than we get additional information. And guess what…that is just fine with us.  The last three years that we’ve been actively working to build our family through adoption has given us patience.  These children aren’t an accessory or a “missing puzzle piece”.  They are human beings, with a story, a life, and a prerogative.  And they deserve to be in a place that can be the very best for them.  And not only do we understand that, but we completely support it and value that.  And we know we are doing it “right” because we’ve had this time. And if more time is what is right for the children that are in need of a home, we will continue to not only embrace that but advocate for it.

See, the earth will continue to rotate and the sun will continue to rise and set, and let me tell you, there is more simplicity, more consistency to that than you can imagine.  How we grow, evolve, and educate ourselves in this beautiful planet’s consistencies is what is far more complex. Throughout all of this life’s simplexities we hold steadfast to the knowledge that what is right will come.  And how it comes is through ethical, informed decisions that are ALWAYS in the best interest of children.

~Chelsea

Everyone is really well-intentioned, but I can still see it.

The sadness behind, “How is it going?”

The forced smile, even though when I say we are moving along and are right where we should be.

The thoughts I can read, even when you don’t think I can.  That maybe we are in denial.  That it has seemed to take a long time.  That maybe we don’t quite know what we are doing.

Trust me.  I know that some of you have had these thoughts.  And I totally get it, and please know I honestly don’t take offense to any of these things.  It has to be hard seeing us build our family on the outside.  You want to be supportive.  You don’t want to say or do the wrong thing.  I get it.

Bottom line—I haven’t, we haven’t even adopted yet, and adoption has made me a better person.  It has humbled me in a way that is indescribable.

Adoption has opened up a whole new world, and let me tell you, it’s not about “saving” a child.  It’s not about, “God choosing a child/children for us”.  I’m not a saint, and by no means, do my future children need a savior.

But they do need someone who will stand up.

Who will be aware.

Who will face fear.

Who will break barriers. And if they can’t be broken will help to find a way around them. Because let’s face it, I will never face some of the barriers others have.

I’ve always considered myself a person of action. I try to stand up for what is right; sometimes I fail, but I sure do try.  But my privilege has allowed me to pick and choose.  To step back when I’m tired.  To shut out the stuff I don’t want to hear.

Adoption has lit a fire within me.  To become more informed and educated.  To stop and listen to others.  To not be silent in a time when I must speak up, even if it is uncomfortable. To not remain idle, but to be active, to advocate. To see a little more clearly, and let me tell you…when you see clearly you have to take action. To know the difference between political and what is just common decency and right. To stand on the right side of history…not just once, but each and every time. To get to know people…truly get to know people because when you see people as people it’s a lot more difficult to cast judgment, but easier to join hands.

And now…to pass on my knowledge to others. Am I there yet?  Not even close.  But I’m trying to live my life with grit and grace.  To be a voice.  A helping hand. An advocate. An ally. Our adoption journey has done this for me and nothing can put out the fire that is within me. As difficult as it may seem, how could anyone see this journey as anything other than a true blessing? And I’m solely talking about the journey, not even children.  Because this journey has humbled me so much that even if we never adopt children, I wouldn’t change one thing.  I know I’ll end up exactly where I’m supposed to be as long as I grow, learn, and become a better person.  And regardless of where I end up, I know it will be just fine. I hope you are able to have a journey that is so humbling. It is beautifully simplex.

~Chelsea

So to update you on our progress– in the last month and a half we have completed a home study and we are currently inquiring on sibling groups whose parental rights have been terminated.  And for your information, we don’t take this lightly in the least.  The last three years I have been reading, listening, learning, and reading some more. And in the last three months I have been doing an in-depth study on transracial adoption, trauma, and impact of adopting older children.

We’ve been in this process for quite some time. Approximately almost three years. Do we know it all?  Not even close.  That’s what we’ve learned the most.  We still have a lifetime of learning to do.  But what we have learned is that love is not enough.  We need a village for our children and that is where your help comes in.  We need you. We need you far more than you know.

Here are some of the fundamental ways that you can help to prepare for our upcoming adoption:

• Please start to check your own biases.I know how hard this can be. Self-reflection is incredibly difficult and unbelievably painful.  But stop for a second and recognize just how painful your lack of awareness can be for other people, for our future children.  There are so many incredible resources that are out there to help you with this.  One of my favorites is So You Want to Talk About Race?by Ijeoma Oluo.
• Acknowledge that my future children are not the lucky ones. The reasons that my future children are coming to me are pretty complicated.  It is wrapped up in many complicated, societal, and systemic reasons and Eli and I are both profoundly aware of this.  We are not “amazing people” for adopting them. We are being brought together in the right sense due to “unfortunate circumstances”.  And in all honesty we are the fortunate ones to possibly be blessed with some amazing and beautiful children that will teach us so much.
• Please take time to “grieve” what you thought our family would look like. There is no shame in that.  We are content and happy with where we are, whether or not you understand that. We’ve educated ourselves and reflected far beyond what you can imagine and we’ve never been more sure that this is where we are supposed to be.  But we do understand that you may not be there yet in regards to what our family may look like.  That is okay. Please take time to work through that grief.  Feel free to ask questions and acknowledge that you aren’t sure how to process it. Again, it takes a village to raise a child/children, and we need you.
• Start to inform yourself on how adoption and trauma can and will impact children. In my eyes, because it will be no different, my children’s experiences will be “normal”.  However, being adopted and having experienced the trauma that goes with that and possible past experiences is anything but “normal”.  Please start to read up on how trauma impacts children.  Not only will it help you with being around our future children, but it will give you a new outlook on working with children in general. There are so many amazing resources out there.
  • The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Traumaby Bessel Van Der Kolk
  • Beyond Consequences by Heather Forbes
  • The Connected Child by Karyn B. Purvis
  • The Primal Wound: Understanding the Adopted Child by Nancy Newton Verrier

The bottom line is this—it’s not like having a biological child.  We need ourselves and all of you to be more intentional than ever.  And we completely understand that that is a lot to ask. But we can tell you this…the relationship between friends and family is pretty simplex—they show up when you need them to even if you don’t always know how.

~Chelsea