Redeeming April Showers

Historically, April has been a rough month in my life.  1991, 92, 95, 99,....all marked significant loss.  But the April that is always at the forefront of my mind is April 2001.  Ten years ago this week, I was admitted to the hospital to deliver a baby who was no longer alive.  I can remember every moment of the previous Friday, beginning my 5th month of pregnancy, what should have been a routine ultrasound, revealed this precious life no longer had a heartbeat.  Numbness.  Followed by a horrific week in the hospital where every complication possible arose.  Instead of an overnight stay, I was there for six days.  It poured rain outside.  Funny the things your mind can remember so exactly, as we were discharged the nurse who brought me to our car said "Of course today is sunny.  I had vacation this past week and the forecast was for sunny skies and I had plans to garden.  But it rained all week,"  It comforted me in some odd way.  That the heavens shared my tears.  Unplanned grey skies conveyed our darkened hearts and grief.

Oh, I could write so much about those weeks.  And of the months that slowly unfolded.  The days where I would say to Rob, "I don't know what to do today".  He would reply, "make it through this morning, you don't need to do anything more".  A triumph was calling a friend or making dinner.  I type right now through tears.  Because writing this can bring me right back to then, to the fullness or rather emptiness of emotions.  And yet, my purpose in writing this is not only to remember that season, but to also mark how much our son's short life has shaped who I am today.  The loss of each of our six children has been heartbreaking- each one a life we fell head over heels in love with.  But this loss ten years ago, or rather the wrestling process that came from it, cleared space in my soul where future grief and joy could reside.

Of course there is the paradox, I would give anything to be celebrating the upcoming 10th bday of our son.  And yet, I am me because his life was exactly what it was.  Our marriage is richer, deeper- I can't imagine a safer more life giving place.  I am known.  Only a few weeks after our miscarriage, we celebrated our 1st anniversary.  This could be an awful lot for a young marriage to endure, I will always be thankful that it cemented a strong bond between us, a commitment that we could get through anything, rather than a wedge to drive us apart.  We grieve differently and have learned how to support and love each other.  We emerged on the other side of suffering with a greater strength and tenderness for each other.  We have experienced love to be patient and kind.  We have fought for each other to a love that does not dishonor and that is not self seeking.  Love that is not easily angered.  Love that protects, trusts, hopes and perserveres.  Love that hopes....that is an amazing thing, to arise from loss and hope again.

I look into the beautiful brown eyes of Samuel, listen to his belly laugh and his passionate, dramatic personality...and I know he was always to have been our son.  And to quote the song Rob always says of Samuel "I would wander weary miles, would welcome ridicule, my child. To simply see the sunrise of your smile."  And we have.  We have wandered many weary miles to meet him.  I began to learn how to love Samuel ten years ago.  Their lives so intertwined.  I think of the child who will be joining our family, and it is another redemption of April showers to begin their adoption this month.

And God.  Oh how much my relationship with God was shaped by this time.  I had times of not talking to him.  Silence.  I had times of anger and rage.  I pleaded and asked questions.  I demanded answers.  He did not go away.  And oh how there were times that is what I wanted him to do.  I have pages of journals of laments.  He responded by offering more comfort, peace that surpasses understanding.  Tenderness and intimacy.  He became bigger.  I was not too much for Him.  The only place that could handle all I was needing to express.  Over time, I began to sing in the shadow of his wing.  That verse became so meaningful.  Protected under his wing was safety for me.  The only thing big enough to cover.  And it was freedom.  I didn't have to explain or pretend.  I could be free enough to sing, no matter how out of tune or if I forgot the words.  I discovered how much more beautiful and rich it was to meet God in the wilderness than in some box I attempt to put him in.  The trajectory that experience had on my faith is amazing.  Full of redemption and grace.

So I sit here.  Remembering 10 years ago.  Remembering our child.  Remembering the heartbreak.  Remembering the darkness.  Remembering hope responding.  Remembering a short life that changed my life and that has had a ripple effect to many lives. 

There is much I do not understand.  There are still many questions I have.  But I am grateful.  Grateful for April 2001, grateful for today and knowing that each could not exist without the other.

Barefoot Books

My dad was in sales the majority of his career.  People would say he is a natural sales person.  But he would have disagreed.  He always told me it wasn't that he could "sell anything", but that when he loved and believed in something, he passionately wanted others to experience it as well.  And so for all of my growing up years he helped schools, libraries and individuals have access to educational products.  (yes, he really began selling encylcopedias door to door, during his summer months as  high school teacher)

I can not tell you the number of nights at our dinner table when questions came up on any number of subjects, the response was always "we don't guess, we look it up!"  Our conversations marked by the number of World Books stacked up at the dinner table.
Of course, now the internet has rapidly replaced having a set of encylcopedias.  I will always have affinity for the printed word, for holding information and transformation in my hands.  My heart warmed the other day when I saw the P volume at the kitchen table.  Rob said, "Samuel had a question about pandas and I know 'we don't guess, we look it up'."  There is much I want to instill in our children (!), and a love of reading is at the top of the list.

So what does this have at all to do with my title, Barefoot Books.  It is a long preamble (for I evidently know no other way), to speak of my own sales career.  Typing those words, I laugh.  For it is not a sales career...but an intersection.  Becoming a mom for the first time at age 40, has meant that I had many years working outside the home.  With my MBA in hand, for quite a while I enjoyed the financial world.  And even now, am always working spreadsheets and analysis into our lives.  Since leaving that world, I have often thought of having a home based business.  But nothing has ever gotten me excited.  Hmm, if I sell that, I'd have to start wearing make up....or if this one, my cooking would have to step up a notch.  I love going to parties where such products are sold, but it was not where my own passion existed.  It would be "selling" not sharing something I'm excited about.

Then a few weeks ago, I was flipping through a magazine while waiting at a doctors office.  It was a list of 'top' home based businesses.  My eyes stopped when I saw Barefoot Books.  I thought we have some of those at home and Samuel loves them.  When I got home I took a look at them, yep they were Barefoot.  I've always loved the art work and illustrations in them.  And have loved their global perspective.  For when we read them Samuel sees children who look like him.  I was so thrilled that they are sold by individuals.  Then I decided, I can do this to raise funds for our adoption (and who knows, may love it that I keep going).  What a wonderful intersection.  I've been looking for something to do from home, we will need extra funds for our adoption expenses and I love books and reading!

And so without further ado, I announce that I am a Barefoot Books Ambassador.  20-40% of sales will go towards helping bring our son or daughter home from the Philippines.  If you would like to purchase a book or cd, click on the link to the right and it will direct you to my page on the Barefoot Books website.  Take a look, they have some beautiful stories and products.
I have also set up a facebook business page, Gillgrist Barefoot Adoption.  I will be posting book reviews and promotions there.  Whew...I don't have to remember that a clove of garlic is different than a bulb- but that's a story for another time.

Letting Go of Guatemala

I fell in love with Guatemala- the colorful culture, the warmth of people, our son.  When Guatemala 'closed' to adoption at the end of 2007, just a few months after we brought Samuel home, I was heartbroken.  I was sure his younger brother was there...and I still think of all the children there without homes.  As Rob and I discussed bringing another child into our family through adoption, I couldn't get past in not being Guatemala.  And so I felt for those first couple of years.  At the beginning of 2009 we filled out our preliminary adoption application.  But when it came time to move beyond the first steps that you would do for any type adoption, I froze.  I would 'try on' different scenarios: foster care, domestic, various countries.  My mind could get there.  My heart could not. 

Friends have asked, how did you decide on the Philippines?  The only way I know to respond is to say my heart moved.  This past February, we met with a social worker.  She went over different options with us.  When she mentioned the Philippines, we both said tell us more.  In all of our research it was not a place we had considered.  We left that meeting with Rob completely in.  I knew he was the moment we got in the car.  I was warming up to the idea.  Those who know me will easily guess that I spent that evening on my computer and by midnight was an expert on Filipino adoptions.  There were so many advantages to the program and my spreadsheets confirmed it.  I had been asking for wisdom and discernment and everything seemed to be checking out as a green light.  And so we began to move forward, but I was leaving wiggle room for another possibility, not ready to commit to a country.

Until this past Tuesday night.

We went to an info meeting on adopting from the Philippines.  A family who had brought their two boys home two years ago were there to share.  I looked into those smiling, mischievious faces and they captured my heart.  I had unexplainable tears.  For a moment I thought I might need to leave the room.  I have come to listen to my tears, to certain type of tears.  The ones that catch me off guard and signal to me, your soul is hearing and responding, on a level you don't fully understand.  The One who made me, brings me to a still place to say this is important, pay attention.

Similiar to moms who have told me they wondered if they could love their second child as much as the first...and then the baby comes and their hearts expand to hold and give even more love.  My heart expanded.  Rob looked at my glistening eyes and smiled.  It was actually a smile that kind of bugs me.  It is a smile that reveals to me 'I'm exposed, he knows all that is going on in my heart'.

When we left the meeting, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight.  I looked up and said "You know what's going on don't you?"  He responded, "Yes, you are all in"  And that night I fell in love with the Philippines and I knew there was room in my heart for another country.

We are paper pregnant!

Yes it's true.  I'm sure you haven't noticed us showing yet, as right now there are only a few pages, all the initial forms.  But soon it will grow and expand with home studies and dossiers.  Affadavits and medical exams.  Notaries and biographies.  And before you know it, it will be obvious to anyone who sees my adoption binder- we are paper pregnant!

I had all intentions of not telling people until our dossier was submitted.  Well, maybe not that far along, maybe once our home study was competed.  But ahh, nope I couldn't contain it.

I suppose it's fitting.  With each of our pregnancies, we would think, we will wait until we are 12 weeks to let the world know.  But then something would happen each time I saw that line or the doctors office would call with positive results of blood work.  My heart would explode- life!  I am carrying a life...phone calls to family and friends.  And surely the lady checking me out at the grocery store and the postman....they must all want to know.  I suppose in some ways it was me needing them to know.  Because I didn't know how long it would be true.

And although experts may say it's better to protect your heart, my inability to keep quiet was exactly what my heart longed for.  For each of those precious lives had people loving them and cheering for them.  If it was 9 weeks or 5 months, each baby was loved and prayed for and wanted and delighted in.
And from each loss flowed torrents of tears, not from our eyes alone, but from all that had hoped and journeyed with us.  This is not a journey to be made alone.  Our companions have upheld us, comforted us, encouraged us and celebrated with us.
Now, as we begin another long and winding road, my heart jumps at the chance to say, come along with us.  There will be clouds and there will be bright sun.  There will be opportunities to develop patience and a chance to dive into another culture.  It will be closer to two years than to nine months and the journey will birth a 3-5 year old instead of a newborn.  But it will be one of the sweetest journeys, one full of redemption and twists and turns, one of surprise and anticipation....until one day when Samuel will say I am a big brother.