I realize I have let this “Bringing Home Emmanuel” series totally drop off. I got on my site in order to continue the series, and saw that my draft for the next part (all I had written was the title, honestly), was created 2 years ago!... almost to the day. Literally, 2 days off. Part of the reason for that has been business, chaos, and lack of motivation. Life has been a roller coaster over the last couple years. Another part of not continuing was emotional. Although the Lord has healed me so much since early in my infertility journey, opening up all those old wounds in order to write my story well and accurately is difficult. It’s hard to sit down and write about a very painful time in my life back to back to back...

But, here I am once again. I have recently had people in my life share that they have read bits and pieces of my story. People have been encouraged from what I have shared. They have shared my blog with people they know who are struggling with the pain and heartbreak of infertility. Although it is difficult to relive these times, I don’t want to forget the hard stuff.

I am one of those people who HATES vulnerability. Don’t get me wrong. I admire vulnerability in others. I crave vulnerability in others. I have found healing through vulnerability in others. I just hate being vulnerable myself. I don’t like showing emotion. I don’t like others seeing the raw painful parts of my life. I feel like I open myself up and expose my heart for the scrutiny and assumptions of others. And I don’t like that. Probably traces back to some childhood trauma... but whatever the deeper explanation, it’s really hard for me.

But a goal of mine for the 2019 year is to be better about writing on my blog. I struggle sometimes with content ideas. But this is a series I had already started, and I have set up to continue. I really feel like I shouldn’t have called the series “Bringing Home Emmanuel.” When I started it, it was so shortly after becoming a mom, that I felt like bringing home our son was the end of the story. But I realize now, 3 1/2 years later, that it is not the end. Infertility didn’t stop when my son was born... duh. I didn’t adopt because I was infertile... so why would my journey end with our first adoption? Obviously, it didn’t.

The Lord began a healing work in me before I even knew about my son. But that isn’t to say I don’t still have my “days.” They just don’t come as often or last as long. It’s not an all-the-time, everyday struggle. I can function much better than I could before. I have come a long way, but we still cannot have children biologically.... that part of the story has not changed.

The way the Lord heals a couple of infertility isn’t carbon copied. It doesn’t look the same for everyone. My healing didn’t result in pregnancy. My healing was totally in my heart, not in my body or my husband’s body. We often hear testimonies of “how God healed my infertility” and the climax of the story is those two lines on a pregnancy test. Those are beautiful stories, but that is not always the case, and that is ok. Just because you don’t get pregnant, doesn’t mean you cannot find healing.

So, this post isn’t exactly the next part in the series of “Bringing Home Emmanuel.” This is more a transition post. I feel like I should call the series something like, “My Journey to Motherhood” or something. I am still on that journey. As we are working on bringing more children into our home, old wounds are triggered and surface, but I have a different kind of hope now than I once did. So, “Bringing Home Emmanuel Part 13” will be continued in my next post titled, “My Journey to Motherhood Part 14”... same series, different title. This will be an on-going story that continues far beyond the birth and adoption of my first son.

So, stay tuned. My hope and prayer is that someone is encouraged through my story. That people will find healing in their own infertility journey. I also hope that more people would be encouraged to adopt and foster children through sharing my own experiences.

Late January/Early February of 2013 I went to Pennsylvania to visit my best friend, Ashley, who was expecting her firstborn, a daughter.  She was having her baby shower on the 2nd of February and asked if I could lead a "devotional" of sorts with the women who would be there.  "I know it isn't traditional for a baby shower," she told me.  "But it is so important to me that our daughter is raised under Godly principles, so I want my baby shower to keep a biblical focus."  I thought the idea was great, and I naturally agreed and began putting together all that I wanted to share with the women who were going to, in one way or another, impact this little girl's life.

That January my little sister was getting married.  I had never met her fiance, but I was traveling to Northern Michigan from Central New York to be part of the wedding.  I hadn't really seen my sister in a year, and, for many reasons, I was very nervous.  My sister and I were very close, but had fallen out of touch over that year.  The whole story is for another blog post entirely, but, all that to say, I had been afraid that our relationship was never going to be what it was.  Some arguments between family members never recover.  Thankfully ours did, and we are just as close as we were, if not closer.  But I had been dealing with so much on my own that I was very nervous about how I would handle the whole wedding week.

During the month of December of 2012, I spent a lot of time alone with my thoughts.  I could pinpoint certain emotions I was feeling, but I was so quick to try and dismiss them without really thinking through why I felt the way I felt.  I decided to do some journal-writing that month.  First I wrote down the individual emotions that I was feeling, then I took some time to expand on each emotion separately.  It has always been helpful to me to write down my feelings.  I am not very good at verbal emotional expression, so the best way for me to really process my feelings, is to write.  Over the next few posts, I'm going to be sharing some segments of my journal entries from that time, because it does the best job at explaining how I actually felt then, and not just my memory of how I felt.

We had been living in New York for just four months when my parents came for their first visit. Well, it wasn't an ordinary visit, I suppose. There was a women's event that our church was hosting and my mom traveled here to speak. My mom is very active in speaking out on behalf of the voiceless in the stand against abortion. In fact, here's a little free advertising, mom!... Check out her website here! 10% of all her proceeds as an artist go to support her local Right to Life organization.

Anyway... to continue on with my original story....

Mitch graduated from University that May, after we had been staying with his parents for about 4 1/2 months. Graduation was so good, and so bad at the same time. My best friend was graduating with Mitch, so she and her husband came to Canada for the ceremony. It was such a blessing to see my husband and best friend graduate together. I loved sharing in their accomplishment as well as spending time with good friends. I remember as part of the ceremony, we sang Be Thou my Vision. We sang the verse that goes:


Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise:
be thou mine inheritance now and always;
be thou and thou only the first in my heart;
O High King of heaven, my treasure thou art...

And so we began the second year. Shortly into that year, my first nephew was born. I really was excited to be an aunt. I never just pretended to be happy; I legitimately was happy and I truly loved my little nephew. I was excited for the day that it would be me taking my little one home from the hospital, and the wait hurt, but there was underlying excitement for what lay in store...