I pride myself in being level-headed and pragmatic. It drives my girls crazy and keeps my marriage in tact. Since starting the adoption process, I have begun to get emotional and irrational. In the last year, I have been battling mild depression. I call it mild, why? Because I'm level-headed and pragmatic. Since last May, I've been known to cry at the drop of the hat. I've had days where I laid in bed after my kids go to school not knowing why I have zero motivation to move forward. I reassure myself that there's nothing more I can do. I have filled out all the paperwork, I have read the books, I have second guessed and triple prepared myself for what is to come. I have thought through every scenario (good but mostly bad) and have come up ready for my Haiti babies to be home. I pray and cry out and ask God to move mountains but then end up in a heap of snot rags. So very sad. It comes and goes so I went to a Nutritionist who told me I am uber-healthy in some ways and crashing & burning in other ways but none of it makes much sense. Great.
Why so vulnerable today? That's the question, isn't it. Maybe all this teenage, hormonal crazies hitting me in my late 30s is wigging me out and I am making up for lost time. I want to overshare with someone. I want to talk it out. I want someone to hear me and tell me, "You need meds" or "This is SOOO normal". I reached out for help. Yesterday, after 3 weeks of phone tag, I finally set up an appointment with a counselor for today. I got all gussied up, got in my car, drove 45 minutes to be 5 minutes early. I was there and I was ready to hear the painful truth - "We've got some work to do."
I sat in the waiting room for 40 lonely minutes. I called her after 20 minutes, even though I knew she wouldn't answer. I played back the phone call in my mind from the day before. Maybe I misunderstood what she said. No, I typed the appointment into my phone as we were talking. I couldn't help but fight back tears. Why was I so sad? I cried all the way home.
(Pause as I go blow my nose and pull myself together.)
So, I cry. Today is a sad day. I cry because I couldn't talk it out today. I cry because I need advice specific to my needs and not general "This worked for me" talk that is readily available from strangers who have NEVER been in my shoes but seem to know it all. I cry because my son is seeing some of his friend's parents come to take them home this week. I cry because we have no hope of getting into the system with our baby girl in the 2013 year. I cry because I so desperately want this part of the journey to be over. I cry because each day I don't have my kids here with me is a day of doubt that I will be able to point them to healing that their Heavenly Father has to offer them. I cry for them and because of them. It's a lot.
Don't judge. Don't pity. Don't encourage me and call me brave or courageous or strong. Just let me cry and Pray.
You just put my heart onto a blog page....Seriously, I could have written these exact same words, with the exact same emotions. So I won't encourage you. I won't pity you. But I WILL PRAY FOR YOU. And I will cry while I do.
ReplyDelete-Lacey
Praying for you, too, Lacey. Praying, too.
DeleteChristy -
ReplyDeleteIt's sooo normal. This process is challenging to the extreme. There's rejoicing, laughter, anxiety, tears, anger - the full gamut of emotions.
I'm happy to listen. One who has been there. A shoulder to cry on that understands. I don't know your story, and I don't know exactly what you're going thru, but I can tell you that this too shall pass. (And I will PRAY for you!!)
You just read on my blog that it's all worth it. It irritated the daylights out of me when people told me all the emotions melt away when they are finally in your arms in your home. But it's true. One day you WILL be there.
For now, feel free to email any time.
Karen
karen.gigure@gmail.com
Karen,
Deletethank you for praying. I know you have walked a mile in my shoes, and I am so encouraged to hear success stories of our babies coming home. I hope you continue to post about your story to keep us hopeful that this journey is worth every tear.
Christy