I tried for so long to become a mother, that after a while, I stopped believing it would ever happen. I stopped entertaining images of myself changing someone's diapers or of holding a tender baby in my arms. I felt desperate to see my husband become a daddy and to watch him grow into a loving father. But I felt thwarted, and it just didn't seem like that would ever happen. Across many years, I became myopic and unable to treasure the world around me. I lost touch with friends and loved ones. I withdrew from the world in many ways - and found myself depressed - wondering why God had deserted me in this way.
And then, just when it all seemed to be over and I thought I'd never experience the joys of motherhood or share the challenges of parenthood with my husband, we changed course. We decided to adopt a baby from Kazakhstan. And life changed, forever.
Almost from the moment we submitted our application to our adoption agency asking to be accepted as potential parents, hope started creeping back in. I started nosing around the internet, tentatively but curiously, looking for information about what it would mean to adopt a baby, and what it would mean for our lives to be adoptive parents. Once we were accepted by our agency, the possibility that I'd become a mommy started to feel more real. But in a new, different way. What on earth it would mean to me, for my life, to travel this final leg of the journey to Kazakhstan to find my child was way beyond my limited imagination. I could never have guessed - never - how magnificent the experience would be. How my sense of hope would not only be restored, but would be deepened and become much more expansive. How my faith in God would be even more solidified - and how I would realize that God had not only NOT deserted me, but He was simply waiting for me to wake up and embrace the gifts of my life. In the end, I didn't just get what I wanted. I also got what I needed.
Somewhere along the way, while we were preparing our dossier and all of the paperwork required by Kazakhstan, we launched our first blog. And within weeks, my world cracked open in entirely new ways. I started connecting with other women who were setting their sights on adopting a child from Kazkahstan as well. We started meeting, online, people who had endured similar trials and who had come to the point of deciding to adopt as well. And before I knew it, I was engaging with the world again - but in entirely new ways.
It has been almost 2 years since we launched our first blog post and it has been just over a year since we brought our magnificently precious daughter, Aila, home forever. It was an often agonizing, frightening and lonely journey, trying to become a mommy. But, as we traversed the last miles of the journey, it became an uplifting, connecting, exciting, emotionally charged and rewarding one. When we crossed the finish line, and hit American air space and Aila became an American citizen, I wept. We held one another and let it all rush in. And we knew, when we walked through the doors of our house with Aila for the first time, that an entirely new, very welcome and mysteriously wonderful journey was beginning.
I didn't know then that changing diapers would be the easy part. That holding my tender daughter in my arms would be as wonderful as it is. I didn't know that my links with other Kaz adoptive moms would grow deeper as we all became moms and started the next stage of life around the same time together. I had no idea that the links would become real, lifelong, life-changing friendships and that I would feel so compelled to stay in touch, keep up with everyone's beautiful children and that I would want, so badly, to promote the unique bond we all share in new and interesting ways - for myself and for my daughter.
I didn't know that it would be so exhausting to be a new mommy, or that people who had biological children would often suggest that I shouldn't be so tired, as I wasn't really a "new" mommy because my daughter was 11 months when she came home with me. I didn't know how hard it would be to stay physically healthy, read books, sleep at night - once we came home. I know, it sounds naive, but I never let myself dare to think about what life would really be like when I became a mom. For so long I didn't believe it would ever happen.
I also didn't know that my dear, longtime friend, Sylvia, would be diagnosed with breast cancer this year, or that my amazing step-mom, who had already survived breast cancer a decade ago, would have to face surviving cancer, yet again this year.
And so, here I am. I am a mommy of a spunky, kind, curious, gentle 2 year old girl. I have been blessed beyond my wildest dreams - and I can say that my husband truly is growing into fatherhood with love and grace. I have somehow maintained very important friendships and have reinvigorated others which had seemed lost to me. I have grown to love and respect the Kaz mommies I have met along the way (some I've met in person, some only online - but it doesn't matter, I love them all). I feel in awe of what I have gained from this journey.
It is time for me to take the first steps toward caring for my own health again. It is time for me to get into life in new ways - and to do things that matter to me so much. I have always felt it is important to stretch oneself and to be an active citizen, caring for others, not only through prayer and in our hearts, but through my actions. I want Aila to grow up with a mommy who lives a faithful, hopeful life, who models self-care, and who teaches her, through my actions, not just through my words, about the importance of connection with community and the value of cultivating meaningful friendships.
Joining the Kaz Mama 3-day team is just what I need to get off my butt and get moving again. It is a chance to honor Sylvia and Trudi, who have also survived their own frightening and eye-opening journeys. It is a chance to give back. It is a chance to come together with women I respect and love and cultivate those bonds. It is a real opportunity to demonstrate to myself and my daughter that her mommy knows her own blessings and can pull herself out of a scary, messy time and walk a long distance with and for the people she loves.
These are just some of my reasons for doing the 3-day in November.
- Jennifer R.
I am thrilled to be walking in honor of two wonderful friends, Angela and Jennifer, who are both valiant breast cancer survivors.
