“Season of No”- Day 9

Walking in this land

has become familiar.

Searching for an answer

to my barrenness.

At the crux of each hill

Dreams invite,

This may be the one.

But at the top of the hill

No crashes in.

Thunder and lightening

Clouds grey

Sometimes complete darkness.

The form No takes is limitless.

my own body betraying us

rejecting the life growing…

And again- just to ensure we remember

Another mother saying yes.

and then as life comes

a change of heart.

One No and the landscape changes.

Rose no longer ours…

And again- just to ensure we remember

A new hill appears before us,

one we didn’t pursue.

A yes

Hope again companions us,

Labors up the hill

And then termination

Of a life

Aborting dreams of ours.

Each month is another No

Mocking

What seems a natural path

For all others.

Sometimes I want to stay

At the top of the hill

Never journey further

Here it is safe and I am protected.

Sometimes I want to run

to the next hill

Flee from where I am.

I’ll be more aggressive

Demand the yes.

But I sit at the top

In darkness

And mourn

Weep

Grieve

Shouts of anger

Rage

At the one who could

have made this different.

I should have known better.

Weary legs amaze me

When they rise

Responding

To a cry from within

I don’t want to hear.

You are made to give life

This is your desire.

Hope, can you possibly be

brave enough,

Strong enough

To keep showing up?

With no guarantees

In this messiness

To walk through this season

Where every hill is

NO

 I wrote this poem in 2004. We were fresh from experiencing the heartache of a mom choosing us to be the adoptive parents to her baby. And then a few months later deciding to parent instead. And then it happened again.

In 2003 two babies born. May and August. Two nine year olds now. Almost ours and yet not quite. Parents to them while in their mothers wombs. And a few weeks beyond.

Cribs ready and baby showers had. We were ready for her. And then him.

Do they know of their moms bravery? Of making hard choices with these babies best interest in mind. And although it left our hearts broken for a while, I learned much from them. Of sacrifice. Of love.

A different kind of grieving than what I wrote of yesterday. (Read here) Grieving for a baby who is alive. Grieving more for our loss of dreams.

Wondering if it would ever be our turn.

Discovering that pie in the sky hope won’t get you far. But real Hope is substantive- it is brave enough, strong enough to keep showing up.

And you will not be left the same from meeting it.

Five years ago today. Tuesday October 9th, 2007. Our slip of paper says Embassy appointment 9am. We arise early in our hotel. Put the baby on my husbands chest. Take a look a hundredth time at our paperwork.

Our attorney meets us and drives us through Guatemala City. We line up at the security check. Join our place in line. We wait. We wait for our name to be called. We wait for legalities. His last name to be our last name. The culmination of a long paper pregnancy.

The official calls our name. We go to his window. We raise our hands and answer questions. The eight month old finding it all quite interesting. The stern examiner looks at the babes passport. He breaks a smile. Looks up at our son and says “he is a cutie”. I raise my hand and agree.

Back to the hotel we go. Now all we have to do is wait. Wait to hear the paperwork has been processed and we can travel back home.

Wait. A final test in a subject we have become proficient in.

But waiting has never been so sweet when you are holding what you have been waiting for in your arms.

This is Day 9 in 31 Days of Noticing Fall. This week I’m sharing the most intense fall season of our our life.

If you missed a post, you can find links to all here.

You can find all 31 Dayers here. There are some great topics to follow!

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