I'm considering trying to write a series of posts (over who knows how long) to tell our adoption story. There are good moments and bad... high points and low ones... and I will say that it doesn't necessarily paint the agency we used in a positive light, much to my dismay. :(
I've wanted to write this "story" (although, it's our life, not a fictional essay) since we were in the midst of it happening, but I couldn't... for a number of reasons. And now, nearly three years later, I'm at the point that I don't know how much time and effort and emotional energy I have available for sharing the hard things... but I also know there won't ever be a day when I have endless amounts of those things, anyway. :)
It's easy to pop in here and write about "fluff" once in a while. I've gotten to be a pretty lazy blogger as it is, but that's all for good reasons. I want to use my time in the best, most productive ways that I can, and I want to honor the Lord and serve my family by doing that.
But maybe? Maybe I should not be silent. I've chatted with many people over these past few years about it, and I've shared privately with some. But I get the itch from time to time to stand up and speak publicly about our experience, not because I think I have a well-heard platform, but because this is where I am, right now. This is where I can speak... if I choose.
My chest is tight right now. I'm physically tensed up and my heart hurts to remember. I think I'm willing to speak, albeit reluctantly. Not because it is not important, but because it is hard. Because it is painful to relive.