My, how life has changed.
Right now as I type, my computer is sitting on the couch as our son lays across my lap. Awkward positioning to say the least, heart bursting positioning to say even more.
I don’t even know where to start. This is the first time ever that I’ve opened this blog to write where I’m starting from a place of true joy. Joy! This blog was initially created to keep our family and friends up to date on our cancer fight – it was out of necessity, not joy. It morphed into our chronicles of navigating life post cancer and while there were pockets of joy, that chapter of life was incredibly, incredibly difficult. Scans, physical side effects, trauma aside (not enough, right?), not widely known but twice in that time we were matched with birth moms for them to ultimately decide to parent their children after delivery. Devastating to say the least. More crys of, “Why?,” without question. We still laugh when people tell us how strong we are! Spoiler alert, it isn’t a choice, it’s simply the only option you have.
And then one email. One phone call. Three weeks of time from start to finish (and a billion of emotions that every therapist in the world would LOVE to hear) and we brought home the perfect peanut that God meant to be ours all along. And now I’m writing from a place of joy and I have to admit, it’s very foreign territory! I’m still very much in the thick of making sense of the experience of adoption specifically, outside of actual parenting, and boy, it continues to leave me speechless. That’s how out of this world it all is, me, speechless still, 7 weeks later. This mother’s choice of adoption gave our dreams of parenting here on earth an incredible reality. Kevin and I witnessed the ultimate act of selflessness that day and we are reminded of that amazing grace every time we look into his eyes. We can’t wait to share the adoption story with you in full in the coming months – you will absolutely need every tissue in your home. It was truly a miracle!
For now, Kevin and I are settling into life with our little buddy. Those that know me best know how much I like to say how much I hate, “everything happens for a reason,” in the moment but how I’m also first to admit that we’re the living, breathing example of how true it is. And well, here’s more proof. I left my job at the end of February after an incredible nearly 9 years in a role I loved so much, working with some amazing people. It was a much needed leap of faith and in the months since, we got our 501c3 status for our Foundation (which we just received our first grant for!!), Kevin and I started having forward planning conversations about life goals for the first time that weren’t tied to cancer, and now, we have our son. Tell me everything doesn’t happen exactly per God’s plan! I’m a self admitted forever-in-recovery-control-freak and yet in the past few months when I’ve put my need to have everything happen to my plan aside (haven’t I learned by now that doesn’t work well?!) and instead let go and take each day for what it’s worth, the gift that it is, especially as a cancer survivor, well, I say it’s working out wonderfully for us. Pure joy. Just like the joy on my son’s face, clearly feeling better after spitting up all over me.
That means I’m out for now, but I will be around much, much more! This is simply all too good to keep to ourselves.