Announcing...

 Timon David, welcome to the Beautiful Journey Home.  
Beautiful Journey home, meet Timon David!!!!!!!!!!!!
  Born 12:07 p.m.

Wednesday, August 24th, 2011

7 lbs 4 oz

21.5" 

 WE LOVE HIM!!!!!!!!

The Whole-Hearted

I follow this amazing blog called Momastery.  One of her recent posts was simply a link to a video that she begged us to watch.  I trust her, so I watched it.  Let's just say it delivered.

This video is of a speech given by a researcher named Brene Brown.  It is about "the power of vulnerability."  There is a lot of vulnerability to be had for me right now.  The vulnerability of walking forward in the midst of the darkness of the unknown.  The vulnerability of choosing to love Timon instead of hiding and protecting myself in case we lose him.  This video served as yet another reminder for me that I need to keep choosing to walk forward and risk, because being vulnerable is part of being alive.

It doesn't feel like enough to just post this link, because I really, really love what Brown said.  So I'm posting the link but also going to type below some of the things that she says in the video.  Just go watch it.  But, if you want to read some about it or if you ever want to come back to some of the highlights, you can read below.

Watch this video.  Seriously.  It is amazing.  It's 20 minutes long, and I promise you will not regret spending the time.  She is an expert and funny and witty and incredibly, incredibly right on.
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Brown spent years researching and studying people and connection.  She found that there was only one difference between "the people who have a strong sense of love and belonging" (she calls these people The Whole-Hearted) and "the people who really struggle for it, folks who are always wondering if they're good enough.  And that was that the people who have a strong sense of love and belonging believe they are worthy of love and belonging.  That's it.  They believe they're worthy."  And so live lives feeling connected and loved and a part of something.

She found that the Whole-Hearted had:

"The courage to tell the story of who they are with their whole heart, the courage to be imperfect.

The compassion to be kind to themselves first and then to others because, as it turns out, we can't practice compassion with other people if we can't treat ourselves kindly.

Connection as a result of authenticity...(they were) willing to let go of who they thought they should be in order to be who they were.  You have to do that to be in connection.

And they embraced vulnerability.  They believed that what made them vulnerable was what made them beautiful.  They talked about vulnerability as neither comfortable or excruciating - but as necessary...The willingness to do something where there are no guarantees.

Vulnerability is the core of shame and fear and our struggle for worthiness.  But it is also the birth place of joy, of creativity, of belonging, of love.  We numb vulnerability.  But you cannot selectively numb emotion.  You can't numb shame, fear, grief, disappointment without numbing...joy, gratitude, happiness.

But there is another way.  This way is to let ourselves be seen, deeply seen - vulnerably seen.  

To love with our whole hearts even though there's no guarantee.

To practice gratitude and joy in those moments of terror when we're wondering, 'Can I love you this much? Can I believe in this this passionately?  Can I be this fierce about this?'  To be able to stop and instead of catastrophizing what might happen, to say 'I'm so grateful because to feel this vulnerable means I'm alive.'

And probably most important is to believe that we're enough.  Because when we work from a place that says 'I'm enough,' we stop screaming and start listening, we're kinder and gentler to the people around us and we're kinder and gentler to ourselves."

The Nitty Gritty

Mandi Mapes / This Love / P E M MA by jamesjosephaudio

Our good friends, Nick and Liz, gave me a cd as a treat last week when I was a wreck.  They told me #4 was their favorite.  "This Love" is #4 and it's my new favorite, too.  And Douglas'.  We listen to it full-time in the car and he's learning when to sing "baby" and "sunshine".  Check it out.  It's about adoption. I totally <heart> this song.
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For those who want the details about this week, here they are:

C-section is THIS Wednesday, August 24th at 10:30 am!!!!!

We will go to TX on Tuesday and get Douglas settled in with my parents at their house.  Wednesday morning we will go to the hospital at like 9:30 am and just wait until the C-section happens.  Anything can change at ANY time at the hospital, but at this point we will hopefully be able to stay in a room with Timon where we will be able to take care of him and bond with him.  We go in with very few expectations and just do our best to receive what comes.  We will have our clothes in the car and just wait to see what the day brings - if we end up getting to have a room there and be with Timon, we'll settle in once we know that after the birth. I am praying that we will be able to spend a lot of time with Timon, whether we get to stay at the hospital or not.

Nicole can't sign the papers for 48 hours.  So, prayers are very appreciated for the time leading up to the birth, the 24th (birthday!!) AND the two days following, especially the 26th when she can sign.  If she signs, then we can leave the hospital with Timon!!!  At that point we'll stay with my parents for 1-2 weeks until ICPC (Interstate Compact on the Placement of Children) goes through - which is just bureaucratic red tape we have to go through when adopting out of state.  You have to wait until the office signs the papers before you can go home, but it's just a waiting game - nothing scary.  Then, we come home and start to settle in and wait for the finalization court date 30-40 days later when everything is final, final.

So, if you think of us and are willing, please pray like crazed banshees anytime between now and Friday, Aug. 26th (and later!) - especially Wednesday the 24th- Friday the 26th.  Intense times are-a-comin'.

Post-Freakout Thoughts

I wrote the post below last week, the morning after I posted Jacob's Wounded Hip.  I wrote this post in the midst of my meltdown when I was trying to claw my way back to the surface where I could breathe.  When I'm in pain, I reach out to all kinds of things to help - wardrobe included.  I'm not sure why I never posted this - I probably got distracted or thought it needed to be polished and didn't have the energy to polish it.  Today I figure polishless is just fine.
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Today, I'm wearing a shirt that I got a few years ago that says "The Power of Peace."  It has a hippie peace sign on it and a heart.  I wore it in the hospital with Douglas the day after he was born.  I had already packed it for the hospital in TX, but I knew that today (and in the days to come) I really needed it.

I'm also wearing my necklace that I've posted a pic of before.  It's a combo of two necklaces.  During this adoption process, I took a cross necklace that I wore during the hospital time with Douglas and added it to a pendant that says "Peace."  I could pretty much always use some extra peace.

I woke up knowing that it was time to call in the big guns.  So I put on my shirt, my necklace, and a red bandana around my head that makes me look like a badass.  A hippie, peace-seeking badass.

Douglas and I went for a walk this morning around the lake near our house.  The water was so incredibly still..."God, make me still like this water."

I listened to my Ipod, to a playlist I made a while back and named "Adoption 2011".  For the record, I also have "Adoption Rockstar 2011".

"Music is the language of the spirit.  It opens the secret of life - bringing peace, abolishing strife." - Kahlil Gibran

Music gets me through a lot of things...I remember many moments during the process of adopting Douglas where the music I listened to became my prayer, my mantra, my crying out to God.  This time around has been no different.

"All I can do is keep breathing."  Ingrid Michaelson

"There's hope for the hopeless." A Fine Frenzy

"You're not alone, together we stand.  I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand.  When it gets cold and it feels like the end - there's no place to go - you know I won't give in.  Keep holding on.  Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through."  Avril Lavigne

The song below is #75 now on my playlist here if you want to check it out.  It's a modified version of an old hymn.  Lately, the words "Oh the deep, deep love...All I need and trust is the deep, deep love of Jesus" oftentimes float gently around in my mind, calming my spirit when I'm anxious or afraid.  "Underneath me, all around me, is the current of Your love."

"Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free
Rolling as a mighty ocean
In its fullness over me
Underneath me, all around me
Is the current of Your love
Leading onward, leading homeward
To Your glorious rest above

Oh the deep, deep love
All I need and trust
Is the deep, deep love of Jesus

Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Spread His praise from shore to shore
How He came to pay our ransom
Through the saving cross He bore
How He watches o’er His loved ones
Those He died to make His own
How for them He’s interceding
Pleading now before the throne

Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Far surpassing all the rest
It’s an ocean full of blessing
In the midst of every test
Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus
Mighty Savior, precious Friend
You will bring us home to glory
Where Your love will never end" Sovereign Grace

"I am waiting in a silent prayer.  I am frightened by the load I bear.  Be with me now.  Be with me now.  Breath of heaven, hold me together.  Be forever near me, breath of heaven.  Breath of heaven, light in my darkness, pour over me your holiness, for you are holy, breath of heaven.  Do you wonder as you watch my face if a wiser one should have had my place?  But I offer all I am for the mercy of your plan.  Help me be strong.  Help me be...help me.  Breath of heaven, hold me together.  Be forever near me, breath of heaven.  Breath of heaven, light in my darkness, pour over me your holiness, for you are holy." Amy Grant

 [I've been wearing my necklace every day since this post, and my Power of Peace shirt is washed and ready to be packed back in the hospital bag.  Micah, Dougie and I went out in search of a few perfect wardrobe finds yesterday - I scored a Superman tee for this week as well as the perfect shirt to wear for Timon's birth day.  Here we go!!]

Pennies and Wishes

Micah lovingly reminded me to enjoy my last few days with just Douglas before we become a family of four.  Micah's good like that.  Perspective.

So, I decided to do something special and fun yesterday with my little man instead of just going through the day as usual.  We loaded up the ginormous stroller in the little trunk and went to a pond/"lake" nearby (by way of Starbucks, happily).  We walked around the lake and looked at ducks and talked about how God made some of them with brown feathers and some with white feathers and how that one with the white feathers has some CRAZY fluffy hair goin' on today (I've never in my life seen a duck with a mohawk, but there it was, flappin' in the breeze!).

The temperature was perfect - the kind where you step out of your car and don't NOTICE the temperature for a few minutes because it's not blazing hot.  I could have missed how great it felt, but not this day.  This day I was in the moment - I was in the business of noticing everything, taking it all in.  So, a few minutes into our walk I noticed how amazingly not sweltering it was, and I was grateful.

We stopped by a fountain near the pond on our walk, and Douglas got out to explore.  He'd never seen this fountain before.  I taught him about making wishes and throwing pennies into the water, which he was thoroughly pleased about.  I told him he could make a wish if he wanted to and he threw several pennies in, one at at time.  I told him I was saving one for myself because I wanted to make a wish.  I held the penny (and so did Douglas because he was SO not letting me get away with throwing the last penny in) and said out loud, "We wish that Timon will be our son and Douglas' brother next week and that he will be in our arms and in our home forever."  It was a prayer mixed with a wish mixed with a weird tradition of throwing pennies into water that started God knows when or where.  I liked it.  Douglas sat quietly and very still while I said my wish out loud and then he threw the penny in.  I love that boy.

We sat and felt the misty drips of water that the wind brought our way from the fountain.  I resisted a few of Dougie's requests to put his feet in the water, thinking they (whoever they are) probably don't want little munchkin feet in their pretty water.  Then I thought "who CARES?!" and let him sit on the edge and splash his precious chubby feet in the cool water.  He wanted me to join him in the fun, so I slipped off my hot pink sandals and stuck my feet in the water next to his.



We capped off all of the festivities with a nice lunch for two at Chipotle - just me and the little man.  He was the perfect gentleman.  I loved this day with my sweet baby boy who's about to be a big brother.  

Home Stretch

Since I have included you all in this adoption journey, I want to keep you updated to some extent as we move forward...I know many of you are praying, and I want you to know what's up.

The past week has been very encouraging with Nicole.  Lots of texting and a couple of phone conversations.  She has said things like "Thank you guys so much for giving him a life that I can't give him right now."  It has become clear to me that, in spite of the grandmother's desires, Nicole is very much still planning to choose adoption - whether that actually happens or not, only time will tell. 

She texted me last week after her OB appointment to let me know that Timon was an even 6 lbs and that her C-section is scheduled for Wednesday, August 24th at 10:30 a.m.!!!  She is planning to go back to school to finish her Senior year of highschool, which is wonderful on many levels.  Most immediately, it will give her something to focus on and work toward as she heals emotionally and physically after the birth.

I gave in to hopelessness for about 18 hours last week - I blogged in the midst of that about Jacob's wounded hip.  I later realized that I had basically given up hope - I was believing that this was over - that Nicole was walking away.  I had started the grieving process over losing Timon before we ever lost him.  My sweet friend Lauren encouraged me to keep hoping, to wait expectantly, to believe that he will be in our arms soon.  At the time, I remember thinking "I don't have the strength to do that."  But that afternoon, Nicole and I texted for a long time (part of me thought we might never hear from her again) and God used that contact with her to show me that this wasn't over, that I needed to stay in it and keep hoping.  That there is still no guarantee, as always, but that it wasn't time to grieve.  Ever since, I have been in a different place emotionally.  In my spirit, I am so much more hopeful.

I don't cry anymore every time Douglas looks at Timon's car seat and says "Mohn's seat" or points to his bed and says "Mohn's bed".  But I know I am still very emotionally fragile.  I feel peace overall most of the time.  But the truth is, I don't know how to live in this dark space where so much is unknown.

In six days, I will have a baby or I will lose a baby.  How am I supposed to be in that space?  There is no way to adequately prepare for either of those things when the other is such a possibility.  So, I feel ill-equipped and unprepared in some ways.  The miracle is that with each passing day, I feel stronger and more prepared in my spirit.  Not in the tangible ways, but internally.

Over the weekend, we were with some very dear friends in Colorado, and it was such a perfect respite from all that has been going on.  Ten of us were together - people who have known me and loved me for over 8 years.  One night, as all of us girls were hanging out, I let the emotions come finally, which is something I hadn't done since the scare last week.  I bawled.  I cried at the possibility of losing Timon.  At the thought of telling my baby (Douglas) that his baby brother was never coming home.  At the fact that I don't know how to exist in this space right now - what I'm supposed to be doing.  That I don't know how to be happy to be where I am today (which that day was in CO with amazing friends), terrified of losing a child, fighting the urge to give up hope and run the other direction and start grieving instead of stay and hope and face the unknown, AND anxious/thrilled/excited to meet our baby boy and to adjust to having an infant in the house again - all at the same time.  I don't know how to be all of those things, how to feel all of those things.

My friend Cheryl was encouraging me, telling me how courageous I am to stay in this dark space (where the Father is right there with me).  I told her that part of me, the rebellious side, wants to run like hell the other direction.  To say "No!  I will not stay in this unknown any longer.  I am the boss!  I give up!  I choose hopelessness."  And to just crumble and start grieving now over the loss that I am terrified we will experience.  I told the girls that if this were for almost anything other than my baby, I would run.  As fast as my little feet would carry me.  The only thing that keeps me here in this terrifying dark unknown is a mother's love for her baby.  And that love is superhuman and totally outside of our own strength.  So, I stay.  I sit here.  I sit in the dark and I wait until we see and we know what will become of our family.  I limp along in the darkness.

And I don't mean the darkness is bad darkness, by the way.  I know for certain that God is with me here in this darkness.  The darkness is the unknown - I cannot see anything here.  But I know that I am not alone and that a God who loves me and loves us and never, ever fails is right with me.  He is the reason I am still able to breathe.  And walk.  And hope.

I know there is a lot of emotion just under the surface for me.  I know this because it came out with a vengeance with my girlfriends that cool night in Colorado on the deck under the stars.  My body is afraid of that emotion - afraid it will be too powerful and that I will never stop crying if I start.  And I have a 2-year-old precious son to take care of and a tiny baby named Timon to be waiting for, so ceaseless crying is not a good option right now.  But it felt good to un-stop the dam for a few minutes and to let it all out to women who love me and know me and are joining in the beautiful sea of people who are lifting our arms up for us.  And after I wailed for a while, I saw a star shooting across the sky just for me.

Life is both/and.  Sometimes I feel schizophrenic with all the feelings I have floating around inside of me.  I have zero idea how to inhabit all of them - or how to let them inhabit me.  But I know that they are all part of this darkness.  And this darkness is the road to Timon.  It's the wounded hip that is a blessing.  No matter what happens, this darkness is love.  And this crazy space I am in right now is exactly where Love wants me to be.

So, here I sit.  6 more days, baby.

Jacob's Wounded Hip

"(Jacob) wrestles with the angel of (God) and he begs the angel for a blessing (Genesis 32:23-32). And what does the angel of Yahweh do? He strikes Jacob on the hip and wounds him—and for the rest of his life he limps. What an unexpected and unwanted blessing! And then the angel of Yahweh says, “Henceforth, you will not be called Jacob but you will be called Israel because Israel means ‘he who struggles with God wins’” (Genesis 32:28). It becomes the very name of the whole Jewish people.

When we struggle with God we always lose, and only later do we know that such losing was, in fact, winning. That is what we mean by “falling upward.” Wrestling with God, with life, and with ourselves is necessary. The blessing usually comes in a wounding of some sort and for most of us it is an entire life of limping along to finally see the true and real blessing in our life."

 The story of Jacob has come across my path (and Micah's) several times in the past week. The above is from an email of contemplations that I get daily, written by Father Richard Rohr.
 
I feel like my hip is in the process of being mercifully wounded.  I have experienced enough pain in my life to know that I whole-heartedly believe that pain is oftentimes the surest way to intimacy with God, to growth, to peace and freedom.  I am who I am because of painful things in my life.

But none of this makes the experience of the pain any less painful and gut-wrenching.

Every time we get adoption news right now, it is bad.  Bipolar disorder.  Known to lie and exaggerate (we already knew this one).  An entire family who is unsupportive of her intention to choose adoption.  Who wants her to keep the baby, knowing full well that she can't take care of him (as she isn't even taking care of her 15-month-old daughter and apparently never really has).  We have learned that the grandmother prefers for Timon to stay in their family, where she and Nicole's aunt and other family members will take care of him.  Nicole's daughter currently sleeps in this grandmother's room.  The grandmother prefers this scenario for Timon to him being placed for adoption. Because "he is family."
This really pisses me off.  I understand that he is her blood relative, and she doesn't want him to be placed for adoption. I can understand that that would be very hard for her.  But the idea that it would be best for him to stay with his blood relatives over adoptive parents in this case is beginning to seem more ludicrous the more I know.  I meant what I said last post about the fact that we cannot know what is best for Timon, and that I have to trust that if this adoption fails, somehow that is what's best for Timon - or at least that God will use it for good in his life.  But it's becoming harder and harder for me to believe that staying where he is could be the best thing for him.  Blood is not always the answer.  The idea that he would be better off bouncing around from house to house, caretaker to caretaker, than he would be with Micah and Douglas and me - in one house, with two parents - the same two parents every single day...this idea seems ridiculous, and it really makes me angry.

What if he inherits Nicole's bipolar disorder?  The worst thing you can do for a child with that genetic predisposition is give them an unstable home environment.  They need consistent wake/sleep patterns, low stress levels, consistent support.  I am terrified OUT OF MY MIND at the idea of raising a child with bipolar, but I will do it if I am meant to do it.  And I will work my little ADD ass off to give him as much consistency in his routine as I possibly can every single day if that's what it takes.

The family doesn't get to make the decision.  Nicole is the only one who can sign the papers and decide.  But having an entire unsupportive family is less than ideal, to say the least.

The real bitch of it is that we can do nothing but limp forward into this dark space where we will very possibly get burned.  Because we will not choose against Timon.  We will limp wherever we have to limp to be there until the last second, until Nicole makes her decision.  And if she makes the decision to "keep the baby," which really means to let him be raised by various family members, then we, with our broken hips, will limp all the way back home and find a way to keep walking forward.

Today

All adoption processes have some drama, most of them have LOTS of drama.  It comes with the territory of going through something that is excruciating and beautiful all at the same time.

Our drama with Nicole is not out of the ordinary - it won't win any prizes.  And the tricky part is, there's never a formula.  There's no measuring stick that says that drama like x means the adoption will fail but drama like y means that it will go through.  Two different adoption workers separately told me with Douglas that "half the time, the cases that we lose sleep over the whole time end up going through and the ones that we never worried about and thought they were going perfectly end up falling through."  I hope we're in the first category, because we've had some drama.  Please don't panic.  The last thing I need right now is to freak you all out and then have to calm you back down.  I'm using all my energy to try to stay present and trust God for what comes.  The drama we're experiencing isn't that huge and usually it's drama for a day and the next day it's all worked out and no big deal.

But we're getting closer - probably 2-3 weeks until delivery.  So drama begins to feel weightier and scarier even if the drama itself has in no way changed.

Yesterday, I first freaked out about more drama and then spent time journaling.  I came to several truths that had momentarily eluded me.

1.  God has made it ridiculously clear all along that this is the path he has for us right now.  So, no matter where this path leads, no matter what happens, THIS is The Way.  We are exactly where we are supposed to be. 

2. God loves Timon so incredibly much, and whatever happens, he will use it for good in his life.  He will never leave him alone.  And we can count on that, even if Nicole changes her mind and he grows up in what seems to us to be a precarious situation.  His name is Timon David.  He is one who honors God, one who is beloved. 

3. If we lose our child, we will survive.  It will break our hearts, but we will get through.  And the Reality that God loves us and Timon and Nicole and has a beautiful plan, even when the beautiful plan leads through sharp, painful, dark gorges, never ever changes.

4.  Psalm 91:4:  "He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection." (NLT)

This is the 1st pic on this blog that I have not taken myself.  I have no idea who took this, or I would give them credit here.  But THIS WAS NOT TAKEN BY ME

The above text and picture were in an email forward my Dad (who never sends forwards) sent to me last night in the perfect moment without knowing I needed to see/hear it.

A wise and dear friend named Jenni reminded me last night that "going all in" for me right now might mean "living apart from making assumptions...living in the truth of your present reality, with consideration for the past, but zero assumptions or expectations for the future, even for the next minute after this one.  The truth is that Timon is your son and you know this, in this moment to be true.  Everything after this moment can't be your truth because your truth is now and everything leading up to now...it means resting in every present moment and trusting what God has made clear in this moment."  


I thought about how clear God has made it, over and over again, that he is here with us, that we are where he wants us to be, that we don't have to be afraid. 

So, after journaling and text message therapy with Jenni, I felt lighter, freer.  More aware that all I can do is live in this moment, that God has given me what I need to be here in this moment and to experience what this day has for me...this day.  And hypothesizing about whether the things Nicole does or doesn't do mean that the adoption will or won't go through is a useless waste of time and energy at least, and totally life-draining at most.

Last night, I felt like I was holding Timon and there was this pull, like a magnetic force, pulling him away from me and toward Nicole.  I, always superstitious, wondered whether this was my fear talking or whether it was foretelling us losing him. 

Today, out of nowhere, Nicole texted me.  We haven't been texting or talking very regularly lately, and its been months since she initiated a text conversation just for the heck of it.

This is what went down (I'm changing it a little so that her text lingo is more readable):

(Side Note: Nicole's mom seems to be emotionally unstable based on the very little we know.  She has been vehemently opposed to the adoption all along and has said horrible things to Nicole about this and is ramping up her efforts as the due date comes nearer.)

N: Hi.  I know we haven't talked (in a while) but I have just been having a lot going on and thinking to do.

G: Thanks for texting.  How are you?  I know this must be a very difficult time for you.

N: Yea my mama and grandmother aren't making it any easier.  But everything is going good, I have a doc appointment on thursday.

G: Oh really?  Your grandmother isn't supportive of the adoption?

N: She really doesn't say much.  More my mom.

G: I am so sorry you don't have more support and probably feel alone sometimes.  It must be very hard to do what you feel is best and right even though your mom tells you her own opinions.  You've been so brave, Nicole.

N: Yeah, she has been trying to make deals with me and I just am having a hard time.  I'm trying not to think about it.

* At this point, I felt on the one hand nauseous knowing that her mother (Nicole's only 18) is trying to make deals with her daughter to make her keep a child that she KNOWS she can't take care of.  On the other hand, I felt this other thing - this deeper, more quiet and still and heavy yet full-of-peace feeling of knowing what I had to do, what was right to do, what God was asking me to do.

I had to let go.  If I told her what I wanted her to do or in any way manipulated her to try to steer her toward placing him with us, I was being as unloving and selfish as her mother is being.  I had to muster up all my courage and strength and let her know that I would support her whatever she decides.  I had to choose to speak the truth that was swirling around in my head that I knew was the whisper of God.  I was terrified to say it in a way, because part of me wanted to think of the best thing to say to manipulate her into making the choice that I think is best, the one that I want her to make.  But I knew with every cell of my now quiet, still, heavy yet peaceful body what I had to say.

And to do this, I had to set aside the presumption that she had already made her decision, because she, like every birth mother, is of course constantly deciding over and over again throughout the whole pregnancy.  This is the hardest decision they will ever have to make.  Of course it ebbs and flows.  So, really, the decision has never been made until the papers are signed.

So this is what I said:

G: Would it be easier on you if you stopped talking to her for a little while so that you can just do what you truly believe is best without her constantly telling you what she wants you to do?  This is your decision to make...not mine, not your mom's.  Only you can make this choice.  And it has to be based on what's best for YOU and for this precious BABY...no one else.  So, no one else's opinions matter. 

N: Yeah, you're right.

G: I want you to know that I want what's best for this baby.  That's what I pray for.  Obviously, I REALLY want to be his Mom and raise him.  But I love him and ultimately what I most want and what I ask God for is whatever's best for him...and for God to give you the courage to make that decision, whatever it is.  I care very much about you, Nicole.  This baby has connected our hearts because we both love him so much.  This is true no matter what happens.  And I want you to know that I care very much about you and how hard this is for you and I will keep praying for you - for wisdom and courage and strength and for God's arms to make you know that you're not alone.

N: Thank you so much.  I'm going to try to stay focused.  (Then she wrote about how she knows she can't take care of 2 children - she has a daughter already).

G: You are very brave and stronger than you know.

It felt good to say these things to her.  I knew I'd done what I needed to do.  I realized that the feeling I'd had the night before of Timon being pulled away from me by a magnet was because I wasn't supposed to be holding on to him that way.  He is in Nicole's belly right now - and that's where he's supposed to be right now.  I need to let her make her decision.  It is hers to make.  It is not time for him to separate from her right now - he is inside of her.  This doesn't mean I'm supposed to love him any less or prepare for him any less, but now is not the time to cling to him and steel my arms against anyone else, especially his birth mother in whose body he currently resides.  That's a losing battle, and it's not right.  It felt good to stop fighting that magnetic pull.

I want Nicole to make the decision she feels is best.  I pray that God will give her the wisdom about what that is.  I want her to have the reassurance as she goes through (if she does) the hardest thing she has ever had to do - the reassurance that she did what was best, what was right.  Without that, it will be all the more painful, maybe even impossible.  

From where we're standing, it's easy to assume that of course what's best for him is for us to be his parents - a stable home, a mom and a dad to care for him, etc etc.  But what do we know?  Just because we have more money or a more stable life or more support doesn't mean that he will certainly be better off with us.  I want what's best for Timon.  I want what's right.  I want to raise him so badly, but more than that, I want him to be happy and loved and to know the Father who made him and loves him bigger than the ocean and the sky.  And if, contrary to what we tend to assume, he will be most loved and most happy and most connected with the Father under Nicole's care, then that's where I want him to be.

So, if you are a person who prays, and if we come to your mind, please pray with us for Nicole to have the wisdom (far surpassing her years) to sense what is best for Timon, and courage to make that decision no matter what surrounds her.  And that she will be filled with peace that surpasses understanding.  And pray for us to be able to receive whatever it is the Father has for us in these next few weeks.  And to walk this path with grace and mercy and peace that allow us to care for Nicole rather than protect ourselves and our own agendas and our own hearts.  And, heck, while you're at it, might as well pray that her crazed mom backs off and isn't there at the hospital...a girl can hope, right? :)  I know, I know, if she's there it's for a reason and it will be ok.

I feel so much more peace than I did at this time yesterday.  And nothing circumstantial is responsible for that.  I feel peace because I know there is no other place on the path that I'm supposed to be and that if more pain awaits me, it's ok and I will get through it and God loves my guts and has plans to prosper me and not to harm me.  I feel peace because I know and trust that God loves Timon and will take care of him...whether under our roof or another.  I really, really hope it's ours, though.


I love that true peace makes us like superheros in some sweet-action force field.  Peace exists outside of circumstance.  I love those moments when I choose this peace and become invincible - no longer a victim to the waves and storms around me.  Aaah.  Don't get me wrong - I'm VERY human, so I choose fear and anxiety and living in the future and FREAKOUTS pretty often.  I feel thankful for these moments of peace and for the Reality that this peace is always, always immediately available to me...all I have to do is receive it.