What Just Happened?

I could paint this blog with a perfect picture of a perfect faith in a perfect mom who has already figured out how to perfectly manage the three kids she has and has everything prepared to perfectly add two more at any time.  But we all know that is NOT my story.   I hope by now you know what a mess I am and that anything good or beautiful you see in me is not me…it’s Jesus. 

Have I mentioned I am legally the mommy of 5 children now?!!!  Huh??  What just happened??  Today it all seems like a blur.  All I remember is being in a season of searching the depth of God’s heart for the needy and poor, then a catastrophic earthquake shook the 3^rd world country of Haiti, then somehow we got a social worker to agree we were fit to adopt not one but two children (miracle!), somewhere along the journey Pastor Nahum and his whole village stole our hearts, and here we are today…a little over a year later about to bring two precious Haitian daughters home.   In so many ways it feels like the journey is just starting.   

How can I get this to soak in?  I know this is my story but even as I’m writing it now it almost seems as though I’m writing about the life of someone else.  I’ve always known I was never worthy to be Kali, Tommy, and Hyatt’s mommy.  I tell them almost every day that I am so thankful God chose to make me their mommy.  And now for God to give me two more treasures with Raphaella and Wana…it’s all overwhelming.  

I try to imagine what this is going to look like because very soon, what we have put our faith in is going to actually turn into something we can see.  Instead of 3 children eating, sleeping, and playing in our home, there will be 5 children doing those things. 

So sometimes I try to think about what it will look like when Raphaella and Wana are thrown into the mix of our not-so-perfect family.  Like what will Raphaella and Wana think when Tommy gets himself locked in his bedroom and Kali rescues him out of his bedroom window?  Where do they fit in yesterday when Haytt got the kaleidoscope toy stuck on his finger and I walk in from a Costco shopping trip to find my husband trying to saw the toy off of his little finger with a big hand saw.  Teary-eyed, Hyatt was asking, “Daddy, will I die if I lose my finger?”  (No worries.  Hyatt didn’t die.  Daddy successfully sawed the toy off and Hyatt still has all 10 fingers!)

But not matter how hard I try, I can’t wrap my mind around where Raphaella and Wana will fit into these kinds of scenarios.

There’s a lot I can’t imagine about all of this and there is a lot that flat out terrifies me too.  Like, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to change a diaper and I’ve never known what it’s like to change diapers for two.  My house doesn't even have a place to change diapers.  I don’t know what driving in a car with 5 kids will feel like.  I’m already like a mother duck when I go to Wal-Mart with the 3 kids I have.  I look behind me and make sure all of my little ducklings are following close behind in a straight line.  Usually they never are so usually I wait until Trey is home to watch the kids so I can do the grocery shopping ALONE.  What will Raphaella and Wana think about riding in a car seat?  They’ve only ridden in a car 3 times in their 16 months of life and one of those times was with Trey and I back in March when we took them to the US Embassy in Port-au-Prince to sign our I-600.  They don’t even have car seats in Haiti.  Trey and I each held a baby in our laps.  Ahh…as I type that memory I can remember it as though I’m living in that beautiful moment right now.  My heart is spilling over with emotion at the sense of freedom I felt.  It was the only time we were allowed to leave the orphanage with our babies and even though I knew we’d have to return them to the orphanage again, I cherished being outside the orphanage walls with our daughters more than words can express.

Raphaella McKinley

Wana McKinley

I just like saying their legal names now.  We have two more daughters?  Can you believe it?  

My heart is sitting in an incredibly vulnerable and exposed position right now.  Remember I told you I had built up a nice protective wall to guard my heart.  I sort of liked that wall.  It felt safe.  But on my birthday the news of IBESR approving our adoption was to the wall around my heart like the blast of the trumpets and the shouts of the people to the wall of Jericho.  Just like that my heart-wall collapsed unleashing all of my fight, emotion, and love for our babies.  I’m back to feeling, at the very deepest heart level, all of the things that a mommy feels when she is separated from her children and is not certain who is taking care of them.  God knows this is not a comfortable place for me.  Hence the reason I built a heart-wall in the first place.  I don’t want to build another wall but at this point I’m certain I can’t last in this vulnerable state for very long.  

It’s legally real now but they are still in Haiti and we are still in Texas.  I'm divulging more evidence of my faltering faith here, but the truth is I haven’t been able to seriously consider preparing for the girls coming home until I heard we were through IBESR.  Now, I’m supposed to take the empty room we have in our home and actually prepare it for our babies.  I’m supposed to start seriously thinking about putting clothes in their closet and buying diapers and age appropriate toys (speaking of age appropriate…don’t even ask how we will prevent them from swallowing a few of the 5 million pieces of star wars legos my older 3 kids have strewn through our home).  I’m supposed to be figuring out things like strollers and high chairs.  By the way, we are open to all suggestions, tips, and previously used EVERYTHING we might need for our twins. 

Here is what my conversations with God are sounding like these days:

It’s exciting God.  I’m overwhelmed with joy at the way You have moved mountains to get us to where we are.  I believe, but I need You to help me with my unbelief!  Your daughter’s faith is faltering and I’m scared to really be doing this…to be really preparing for our babies stretches my comfort level to places I’ve never thought I could go before.  You know my fears…You know I will feel as though I’d be crushed beyond repair if something happens and our babies never come home.  I am trusting that You are good and never give Your children more than they can handle.  Heavenly Daddy, forgive my lack of faith and hold my unprotected heart in Your hands as I wait for Your will to be done.  You are my refuge.  You are my safe place.  In Jesus’ name, amen.