love is a choice

Right after Destaye was diagnosed with bipolar disordar, I actually felt quite a bit of relief. We knew something had to be very wrong to get us to the place that we were. That place was Fairfax Hospital. It is a psychiatric hospital in Kirkland and Destaye was there for 17 days. We drove to Seattle to visit her 16 out of the 17 that she was there. We knew that despite the hardship of doing that, it was a neccesity for our bond with her. Everything we had done over the previous 6 months was to nurture a bond with a child who only wanted to push us away. Who could blame her? We knew so much of what she had gone through and decided that even if we had to pursue her for our entire lives, this child would never say that we walked out on her. After she got home from the hospital, that commitment was tested even further as we were asked multiple times if this was something we could handle. As I pondered the question I did what I inevitably do first when making life changing decisions; I think about my own abilities. I have a real understanding of mental illness, I am extremely determined once I make up my mind to do something, I love my children unconditionally, blah blah blah. Besides, Brian and I had decided that if we were going to adopt these children then they would be ours, period. Of course we wouldn't give her up! We read the books, talked to the counselor, and decided we would be going on with our life, however different the future now looked.



That's when God allowed me to be broken. It was bound to happen as I look back on things. My relationship with God has had a common theme. I say "I will follow you" and He gives me something that I am unable to do by myself. It always makes me think "duh" when I come to this realization, but why in the world would God take a person who claims to be willing to follow Him in whatever plans He has, and then give them something that they can handle themselves? The only outcome would be a person who would only think more highly of themselves instead of being in awe of what He can do through them. So as I attacked biploar disorder head on, it attacked me and completely kicked my butt. I realized after hospitalization, medication, months of therapy, this is a child that was going to ruin our lives. I got really angry. I started to blame God for leading me straight into a life of daily hell instead of the blessings I expected on the other end. As I look back at this time, I realize that I was going through the grieving process. Brian and I had prepared as much as possible to parent kids who had been through trauma. However, we thought we would be parenting FIVE and EIGHT year olds not nine and twelve year olds, one of which had bipolar disorder. We had to grieve the loss of those 4 years we thought we had with each of them. We also had to grieve the loss of a "normal" life-at least for the time being. It continues to be a journey, but not one without lessons. The biggest lesson has been if you tell God you will follow him wherever He leads, expect Him to take you to a place where you will have to let Him carry you.