I’m back. I promised I wouldn’t be gone too long. 🙂
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen after Part 6, just knew I needed an emotional break to process and spend quality time with my husband. As of late last week, Part 7 wasn’t even written yet in my mind, let alone on here.
Let us review: Why did we halt our adoption?
The simplest answer is because we cannot afford to pursue adoption and surrogacy at once.
*For more on why we before 3 weeks ago we never dreamed surrogacy would be an option, and how we were both finally at peace with moving forward with our adoption plans, please see Part 1.
*For more on the Facebook message I received 3 weeks ago from practically a perfect stranger that would rock anyone’s world, please see Part 2.
*For more on our surprisingly spirited 1st reaction to that message, please see Part 3.
*For more on the questions we both had, and the emotional struggle I went through, once the surrogacy option was presented to us, please see Part 4.
*For more on the initial, God-filled meeting I had with the woman who strongly felt God may very well be calling her to be our surrogate, please see Part 5.
*For more on the extremely disheartening news we received the day after I met with the woman who appeared to be an angel sent by God to carry our biological child, please see Part 6.
The date was Wednesday, March 20, 2013.
Even though part of me had prayed that I wouldn’t have to wake up after the news we’d received the day before, I was conscious and had to face the day. Just because our hearts were broken didn’t mean we suddenly were unemployed and didn’t have daily responsibilities to which we had to tend. No, we had to get up, put our brave faces on and go to work. Though we had struggled to sleep the night before, tossing and turning all night, the sun was up and the day was beginning.
As I went about my morning duties at home before I had to go put my smile on and be a “Good Neighbor” to our State Farm customers, I couldn’t help but continually ask God questions.
“Why bring us this far, and then take it all away because we can’t afford it?”
“Why would you ever put anyone through this?”
“Couldn’t you just have let us alone and let us adopt?”
“Why couldn’t you just have “called” her to be someone else’s surrogate?”
I just didn’t get it. I have always have had a high tolerance for a lot of “life” happening to me, but I was reaching my limit. I didn’t understand for one second what He was doing. Hadn’t we been through enough? Hadn’t I been through enough in my lifetime? How much is one person supposed to take, anyway? I’ll admit it. I stood in my kitchen that morning and had a small pity party for myself. In the moment, I felt I “deserved” it with everything going on. My sulking didn’t last long, though, before that old, familiar question rose up within me like it’d done so many times before.
“Do you trust, Amber?”
I knew the “right” answer to that question. I knew what I wanted my answer to be. I knew feeling sorry for myself wasn’t the answer He wanted, He deserved. I didn’t want to lie to myself, or to the Lord, about how I truly felt, though; there was no point in trying to put up a facade with the one who created me. So, I responded back the most genuine way I knew how.
“I want to, Lord; please help my unbelief.”
Days passed. The tears stopped. Answers didn’t come. Life became somewhat routine again.
We prayed. We sought the Lord. We felt confused. We felt overwhelmed. We confided in close friends and sought wisdom for our couples’ pastor and his wife, who also had traveled a very uneasy (and very, very similar) road to parenthood. In the midst of it all, we suddenly decided to take a break and get out-of-town over Easter weekend. We knew it wasn’t the ideal weekend, and it isn’t like us to make such hasty decisions (especially involving spending money), but we needed to get away. Life was getting too hard. We desperately needed to get away and relax. We needed solace and time together.
In the meantime, we fought allowing ourselves to become numb to it all.
I, though, felt another way, too.
With each passing day, I felt more and more…pregnant.
For several days I told no one, including John. After all, I’d “cried wolf” several times since we’ve been married. The strong desire to give my husband the biological children he so desperately wanted had driven me to pee on a stick more than once before. I’d taken probably half a dozen pregnancy tests in the little over 3 years we’d been married, a few a couple days before a period and one, just a few months ago, even a week after I had already had my monthly visitor. Each time I was never pregnant; no double pink lines had ever appeared. They wouldn’t this time, either, if I caved and peed on another stick that costs more than a gallon of gas.
No, I needed to just get out of this unhealthy mindset – the faster, the better. This wasn’t what I needed — at all.
But this time felt different, so very different, and it wasn’t going away. In fact, it was getting harder to ignore.
My emotions were playing a very evil trick on me. I was clearly emotionally unstable. Who, though, wouldn’t be after the rough month I just had?
“Give it time; this will pass,” is what I kept telling myself.
But would it? Part 8 to come!