Lesson from the Ceibo trees

"We talk about them, not because we are stuck or we haven't moved on, but we talk about them because we are theirs, and they are ours, and no passage of time will ever change that." Scribbles and Crumbs

We took a trip to the beach a couple weekends ago. We spend 9 hours in a 12 passenger van, with 11 bodies and many bags of clothes, towels, and snacks. It was a long time on the road, squished like sardines. Although who am I to complain? I sat in the front passenger seat nestled next to my handy-dandy breast pump, because my body didn't get the note that we were getting away for the weekend. 😬 Even though it was a tight it , it was oh so worth it just to stand on the beach facing what seems like an infinitely open and vast ocean, swim in the cool pacific waters, and laugh without once thinking about work.

Puerto Lopez, Playa de Los Frailes, Ecuador

You know what also didn't get the memo about the mini-vacation? Grief. He just likes to show up, uninvited, and stays however long he wants. Sometime he shows up for no reason whatsoever and sometimes because you get a reminder on your timehop on Facebook.

I knew this anniversary was coming. My friend Jerica told me the other day how interesting it is that our bodies remember events, despite the fact that our mind is focused on other things. I'll admit, I have been a bit weepy lately...

It has been two years since the day we anxiously waited to see the 6 week sonogram of our first pregnancy, only to have our hearts shatter with the news of the baby growing in my fallopian tube. Two years since I had my first ever surgery. Two years since my body struggled with post-op anesthesia and had to endure all those bumps and pot-holes going up our hill. Two years since everything really changed. I remember the physical pain well. I remember the emotional pain better, because it still lingers.

This one event, this loss, it scarred me. It instilled a deep fear in me. A fear of pain and hurt.

Before our second attempt at InVirto, I cried the whole week before my transfer. I remember so vividly my conversations with God. Actually, it was more me just begging God not to let me get pregnant if I was just to lose the pregnancy again. I was so fearful, that my daily prayers could be translated as follows: God, not your will be done. I don't want Your will if it means more loss, pain, and hurt. I can't do it again. Don't allow me to feel this way again. I just can't.
(Now I think to Jesus on the days leading up to his death on the cross and His bravery and pure love to say the exact opposite in the face of physical and excruciating emotional pain. What love.)

And I was almost relieved when the pregnancy test came back as negative. And foolishly I believed that God answered my prayers. But you know what happened just a few short weeks later? We got a call that the Hacienda was getting an abandoned newborn baby boy and we were being offered the chance to care for him. God placed us in a situation where there was a high risk of loss and pain.

And if fact, there was loss and pain.

It has been 6 months since AJ left us. We've seen him a few times, gotten to hold him, and seen how much he has grown. It make us happy to still be a part of his life, even if it is small part, and to know that he still remember us.

AJ playing and touching Jake's beard

The other day we met some a couple visiting the camp. They asked if Mila was our first/only child. It's hard to know how to answer this question because AJ was just a big part of our lives. Jake and I looked at each other, and answered yes. Sometimes we tell the story of AJ and sometimes it is easier and hurts less not to.

I'm still trying to wrap my brain around all of it. What lessons are to be learned from this experience?  I can postulate many things... needing to learn patience, trust, to love anyway despite the chance of hurt, dependance on Him, and quiet possibly to smack the pride outta me. And I am still learning and processing.

I've been reflecting on the fact that Jake and I are in a season of experiencing loss. In additions to the babies, we've also been grieving a loss of an important relationship. It has made me stop and think. These past couple of years have done a number on me. I find myself a bit more closed off and protective of my emotions. You could say I'm in a season of dormancy, much like how a tree isn't dead during the winter but shed its leaves and waits until the next spring to bloom.

It's interesting how God teaches us through His creation...

On our drive to the beach I saw something interesting. I saw these gnarly and ugly, yet somehow majestically beautiful looking trees. They look straight out of a Dr. Seuss or LOTR book with the thick bulbous truck and wild limbs.

(Ceibo tree pictures taken off the internet)

While we are in dry season currently in Ecuador, we had a very wet rainy season this year. So the landscape was still fairly green as we drove through, except for this particular type of tree. These trees were bare. As I sat in the passenger seat, I thought about how stark of a contrast these trees were to their surrounding environment. Dead despite being embedded in midst of life. Then I saw something interesting. Flowers!

The trees were not dead, but intact very much so alive. When we got home I did some research to find more information. Ecuadorians call these trees Ceibo trees (pronounced Say-bo). They have a long history of mythological stories dating back to the Incas and many physical uses for the fruit it produces. But the most interesting fact to me was how it grows.

This area of the coast is a tropical desert and the Ciebo trees have learned to adapt. In the rainy season they are green and lush, but in the dry season they drop their leaves. This doesn't however stop them from being green. The trunk and branches are able to absorb sunlight and go through a photosynthesis process that cause them to emits a green color.  They also grow pink and white colored flowers at the end of their long twisty limbs.

So despite the harsh environment, God has created this type of tree to not only survive but thrive. When all other trees are dormant in the dry season, the Ceibos can and do literally bear fruit. I've been thinking of how this is a great metaphor for me to learn from. Despite being in a season in of dormancy, where I feel like I need to protect myself from the outside world, God gives us hope and tells us we can  still bear fruit. I can't just lock myself away for the hot unbearable summer (can any of you in the States relate right now?!?) or in my case, run and hide from pain and fear, but I need to flourish in spite of it. I can use my grief and pain to grow, to understand the gospel better, to love more deeply and to love anyway... love in spite of fear, loss, grief, hate, lack of understanding, whatever...love anyway.

January 7th, 2017 our last night with AJ (an 8 day old Mila)

"Grief, I've learned, is really just love. It's all the love you want to give, but cannot. All of that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and the hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go." 

The "Leave Me Alone Sweater"

My in laws came to visit us in the beginning of January. In fact, my MIL is still here, and will be here until the beginning of February. We took them to the artisan market the first Saturday they were here. I wore Mila in the Boba wrap. There were lots of looks and awes at this little wonder sleeping, wrapped up nice and cozy. Several ladies made comments and asked how old she was. 9 days. 9 days old and already out on her first shopping trip.  These ladies explained to me that the maternity leave custom here in Ecuador is not to leave the house with baby for the first 30 days. In fact, mom doesn't get out of bed for 30 days! Wow.

Maternity leave. I don't know if that *really* exists when you are a missionary.  
There is always things to do, people who come and need to be hosted, and life in general. 

Two weeks into my maternity leave and I feel exhausted. But that could just be the lack of sleep talking. And all the emotional heaviness of the recently events in our lives.


Several people have asked how I've been doing lately. Here has been my response:

I saw this on Facebook the other day. It's called the "Leave Me Alone Sweater".
I wanna wear this for a week. (Although breastfeeding might prove difficult...)
With no one in my house to talk to me, nothing to do, no reason to get out of bed (except for hygiene reasons) all while binge watching all the episodes of Downton Abby. 
I just want some rest. Maybe the Ecuadorians have it right.

Then, yesterday something was revealed to me.
At church we did something a little different than normal. We started out with the sermon and then went into a time of meditation; blankets were laid out on the floor, candles lit around the walls, and music playing on the speaker. We read a passage, sang a song, got on our knees to pray, meditating on the scripture and song. We did this three times. Each time we were to move deeper and deeper into God's word. 

The first time I cried for AJ. Thanking God for the blessing of this past year and praying over his future. Many tears were shed and they continue to as I write. 

The second time my heart overflowed with words of praise and glory for our God. Thanks for our God who is always good, for our God who watches over us, blesses us, grieves with us, holds us, raises us. 

The third time a realization hit me and quiet frankly I don't know why it took so stinking long. By this time Justin, who was leading us in this time of worship, had said the word "descanso" or "rest" about 20 times; Lean into the rest of God, find rest in God, go deeper into the rest of God. 

What I've been needing is God's rest. 
Yes, physical rest is important. In fact, it is super important after giving birth for you body's recovery. And important in general. God rested after creation, He commanded His people to rest on the Sabbath, and there are many examples of Jesus resting in the New Testament. Resting... relaxing, taking a break, recharging, slowing down, etc. is not a something to do only when you find time, it is a requirement for health.  And while most days I nap because of my physical exhaustion, I realize what I really need is rest for my soul. 

Because of childhood trama, I have learned to compartmentalize really well. So the events of the past several weeks: Mila being born,  AJ leaving us, my in-laws coming (which isn't a bad thing but for it to happen right at the time of AJ leaving left us heavy hearted for them in addition to us), any and all other worries have just gone into nicely packed boxes in my mind. And quiet frankly, I haven't had time to process much because of all the physical demands and tasks to be done for the arrival of my in-laws (like packing all of AJ's stuff up) and preparing & furnishing a rent house for a couple coming to volunteer for us for the HOHCA for the next 10 weeks. So while mentally I wasn't dealing with the issues, my soul has been heavy with the burdens of my heart. 

So yesterday during our third and last meditation/prayer, I gave out a little chuckle. I don't need the anti-social sweater dress. I don't need everyone to just leave me alone, because then how am I supposed to go to the bathroom, take a shower, or nap when there is no one to hold Mila for me?! What I need is my powerful, loving God to cry out to, listen to me and to be my refuge. Reading through Psalms was a perfect answer. Who better to lament and rejoice with than David?

And my favorite one...

Makes me think of the song, "Trading my Sorrows" which part of the lyrics read:

I'm pressed but not crushed

Persecuted, not abandoned
Struck down but not destroyed
And I am blessed beyond the curse
For His promise will endure
That His joy is going to be my strength

Though my sorrows may last for the night
His joy comes with the morning

I'm trading my sorrows
I'm trading my shame
I'm laying it down
For the joy of the Lord

I'm trading my sickness
I'm trading my pain
I'm laying it down
For the joy of the Lord

Joy is here, wake up
Joy is here, wake up
Joy is here, wake up

Yes Lord, yes Lord, yes yes Lord
Yes Lord, yes Lord, yes yes Lord
Yes Lord, yes Lord, yes yes Lord
Amen

So I will rest. 

I will take naps during the day and take it easy for the sake of my body.

And my soul will rest knowing that my LORD shelters me, protects me, and takes my burdens for me. 

Now all I need is a hammock on the beach. 

No named post

It is difficult to know how to explain this update. Words fail. And quiet frankly our understanding also. 

AJ has been adopted... and not by us. 

The last update I posted was about AJ and what we knew so far in our adoption tale. We got a few papers in and our CPS office lawyer told us to wait until I had Mila to make the drive out to the main CPS office. Well, little did we all know that from that last conversation in September, and in October when AJ was declared officially without a family and adoptable, a different office of CPS has been working to place him with a permanent family. 

A week an a half ago, the HOH directors were told about AJ's permanent placement, and when they asked the lawyer what happened to our case, the only response she had was that we hadn't made an effort in trying to adopt AJ and there was nothing she could do. And of course this response is very frustrating to us as we have asked and asked about what we need to do to get this process going and basically been told false information. Or even flat out lies. 

We immediately contacted a highly recommended adoption lawyer in Quito after we learned of the adoption. After telling our tale and showing all the paperwork on AJ we had, the lawyer told us that at this point, there was nothing we could do. Now, if we had hired a lawyer about a year ago, we probably could have had a chance... because in reality, things like how many years we have lived in Ecuador and trying to conceive a baby, doesn't actually matter, so say this lawyer. And of course, that is very discouraging. 

So here we are... about to have Mila (or maybe by the time this gets posted, already had her!). A  joyous and beautiful experience that is slightly tainted by the sadness in our hearts. Our baby boy is leaving us. And leaving us quickly; sometime between the end of this week and the beginning of next week.

So I ask this of you. Keep us in our prayers. 

Prayers for this time when we are welcoming in a baby girl into our lives. Prayers that Satan doesn't steal our joy. That we are able to keep our hearts open to her despite the heaviness that we feel. And very honestly, prayers that I don't develop postpartum depression. 

Also fervent prayers for AJ. We are trying to work with CPS to make the smoothest transition possible, but we still know it will be extremely difficult on him. He has entered a clingy stage in life because he has learned that we are his Mommy & Daddy. He has adopted our personality traits and habits. He knows our house as his home. And to change all of this... his family, home, and environment will be traumatic. 

This adoptive couple seem nice, based on the pictures I've seen. They are excited and have made many changes to prepare for AJ. Plus... they have already jumped all the hoops in the Ecuador adoption craziness. I don't know if they are Christians or not, or how they will raise AJ. But I do know that we have a great God and he has already worked wonders in AJ's short life. I have full confidence that God will continue to show up and show out in big ways in this guy's life. 

We may never get to see or know where God is going to take AJ, and man that is a very sad thought for us. But we must continue to walk in faith that it is all in God's hands.

I want to say a BIG thank you to all of you who have secretly asked for pictures of AJ, wanted to know updates on the adoption process, and about his general well-being. Some of you have met him, most of you have not, but you all treated him like he was our little one and we so very much appreciate it. 

Now, because I have *somewhat* refrained from posting pictures of AJ over this past year... I will post his Month to Month pictures and some of favorites. 

ALSO. I need a favor. If you would like to make a comment to us... please refrain for saying that you will pray for a miracle and something will change so that AJ can stay with us. You can still pray for that, but please understand that in our hearts and mind, we need to believe that this is going to happen. Not that we don't believe in miracles or in God's power nor that we want AJ leaving us, but it is very painful to hold onto that kind of hope. We need to look forward to the closure that this will bring and be able to grieve our loss. Thank you for your understanding. 

We love you AJ. 

You will always be our first baby.