Miracles

Some of you may already know this, but the year I graduated from high school my sister Shannon passed away.  She suffered AVM's in her head which resulted in multiple brain surgeries.  Shannon always had long, blonde hair.  When she found out that she'd be having brain surgery she was devastated about having to shave her head.  Lucky for her she had a surgeon who had become her buddy, and he told her that he'd shave where he had to and work around the rest of her hair.  This is not typical at all for a person who is undergoing major brain surgery.  After her first surgery we were gathered in Shanny's room talking about the surgery.  Shannon spoke up and (in reference to being able to keep her hair) she said, "FOCUS ON THE MIRACLE".  

Since that point our family motto has been just that, Focus On The Miracle(s).  It is engraved on her head stone, cross stitched on my mom's wall, put on shirts, it is on my rock in my front yard, and displayed many other places.  After a 2 year battle Shanny was called home, despite seeing miracle after miracle.  One would have reason to ask what the "miracle" is that we are focusing on.  She is gone.  This is the miracle:  We will see her again.  The miracle is that we have testimonies of the Gospel even after this trial.  The miracle is that she still lives.  The miracle is that our family can be together forever.  The miracle is that I have on many occasions felt her nearby and know that she is walking with my family through this life.  The miracle is that I know that she is doing more for my children from the other side of the veil than she could have ever done from this one.  

With this in mind, I'll tell you the next part of our adoption story.  I knew it was the right thing.  At this point I had already had a confirmation for myself that this was the plan for us.  Together we had sacred experiences that led us to know that this is what we were suppose to do.  I knew I needed to have faith.  I also knew that things had to fall into place just right, and that someone from the other side of the veil would have to help us make it happen.  We just needed willing hearts.

On February 9th we went to church.  The lesson in Sunday School was on Noah.  Noah had great faith.  As I listened to the lesson I couldn't help but think of how crazy Noah must have looked to everyone.  Why on earth would he build an ark in the middle of a desert, where rain was in no way expected?  Because he was asked.  That was a good enough reason for him.  He probably didn't know exactly how to build an ark, especially one that size.  I'm sure he had a lot of questions, but did what he was supposed to do anyways. 

It reminded me of myself.  Why on earth would I adopt a child, especially right now, when I can have my own?  I knew I needed to have faith.  I didn't know what the alternative results would be.  I didn't exactly know how to go about the whole process.  

As for the question that I'm certain I will get many times, I don't know if we're "done".  This doesn't necessarily mean that we won't ever have our own again.  It might though.  We'll have to keep you posted.  I read in Mosiah a couple weeks ago that "all these things are done in wisdom and order...". Whatever that means in our situation. 

The story goes on...

In Sacrament Meeting that day we had the High Counsel in our ward.  The first speaker got up and the first story he shared "happened to be" about adoption.  He told a story about a lady named Agnes, who was from Russia (if my memory serves me right, which it doesn't usually, so who knows?)  She made the choice to be adopted and leave her country.  She came to America, and had children.  One of her children had a daughter.  That daughter was this man's grandmother.  He then said that the decision that one person (Agnes) made changed the life of many generations. 

I couldn't help but believe that his talk and story was inspired and what I NEEDED to hear.  

That evening as we were getting ready for bed I saw that I had received an email from a lady named Andrea.  She worked for an adoption agency.  She said in her email that I had inquired about adoption about a year ago and that she was just checking to see where we were in the process.  As I read her email I immediately thought, "I did not email this lady a year ago about adoption."  Tate was 8 months old.  There's no way I emailed her.  I was not considering adopting 8 months ago.  She's got the wrong gal.  However, what a coincidence that she would email me TODAY.

I then read what agency she was from..."Little Miracles".  

I knew that we had been guided and that we were getting help from "someone" on the other side of the veil.  I immediately emailed her back and asked her to call me in the morning.  

As we started the conversation Monday morning, I decided that I was going to lay everything out on the table about my health.  I told her about my heart surgeries.  I then proceeded to tell her about my Epilepsy and how it has thrown up a red flag to every agency I had spoken with.  I told her I was worried that her agency would see the "E" word and run.  

Her response was, "Wendy, I think its fate that you are talking to me.  I have Epilepsy and I have also adopted.  I know what you're going through and I know there is a way around it." 

I'm not sure how someone who doesn't believe in God could explain this all to me.  There are just too many "flukes" to not believe that we are receiving help from a higher being.  There are too many "coincidences".  

Elder Bednar gave an amazing talk about Tender Mercies of the Lord.  After sharing an experience he had in his life where he also witnessed a personal tender mercy he said, "Some may count this experience as simply a nice coincidence, but I testify that the tender mercies of the Lord are real and that they do not occur randomly or merely by coincidence.  Often, the Lord's timing of His tender mercies help us to both discern and acknowledge them."

This WAS a tender mercy of the Lord.  I get goosebumps just thinking about how this all came about and the experiences I have had leading up to this point.  God is at the helm of this ship!  Thank HEAVENS!  You better believe I've got my life jacket on.

Reasons

I'm hoping that this will be read in chronological order because otherwise it may not make sense.  Just know that this is a continuation to the previous post.  As a week or two went by I kept giving reasons as to why this can't happen.  Here are just a few.

- It will be hard.  Taking in a child with disability is a "lifetime sentence".  That probably sounds really bad. Not that I couldn't love them, it just would bog us down.  Everything will be harder.  Going to the grocery store, vacations, even just finding a babysitter.  Who wants to babysit 5 kids, one of which is special needs in some way?  Uh, how about nobody.  Depending on the disability, they may never just grow up and go to college or get married.  And do I dare say the word SACRAMENT MEETING?!!!  I already leave church wanting to commit suicide!  (Okay, that was an exaggeration, but...yeah)

- Adoptions take forever.  Like 12-18 months for a child WITH disabilities.  BTW, I'm kinda bitter about this because if there are all of these "waiting children" everywhere in the world, why do they make it as hard as they do?  In fact, I've wondered if it'd be easier to part the Red Sea.  

- People will think we are crazy.  I'm almost embarrassed to say it, but I've seriously been worried about what people will say or think.  "Seriously?  Can you believe that the Wyners are crazy enough to do this?"  "They must think they are great parents to take this on!"  "They must be rollin' in the dough over there to blow their money on this."  I'm scared to even tell people.  I realize that this is pathetic because, quite frankly, its nobody's business and I shouldn't care what they think or say.

- Money.  It costs money to get a child.  Back to the whole being bitter thing, if there are all of these starving children in other countries, WHY AREN'T THEY GIVING THEM AWAY?!  It's really quite irritating.  Children aren't cheap it turns out.  I am not a big spender.  I drive a piece of crap minivan that should have broken down and died by now.  I shop at yard sales.  I get anxiety just buying anything full price.  If by chance you see me dressed in anything that may be somewhat "in-style" its because I've either purchased it from a garage sale, bought it at Ross, or it was given to me.  How will I spend this kind of money?

- My minivan.  It was a sad, sad day when Marc told me that we'd have to buy a different (note that I didn't say "NEW", just different) minivan.  The one we have won't fit 3 booster seats across the back.  Our van is what I like to call a mini-minivan.  Its just a hair smaller.  This reason is mainly a joke.  I'm not THAT attached to my van, its just that I don't want to have to spend money on a new one. (See, I'm doing it again!  Talking about making the purchase of a van is making me nervous.) Marc on the other hand, is quite happy with this reason.  Hey...maybe this is why he is pushing for adoption now.

- My other children.  It took me a while to get over this one.  I don't want them to feel neglected while their mother is out to save the world by adopting a child with disabilities.  Will they resent me?  Will they like them?  What if they don't?  Will I have enough time for them?  Will I still find time to help them with their homework and read with them?  

All of these issues have slowly been resolved.  Starting with the last one.  As I was thinking about this one day I thought, "Wait a minute!  I grew up with Zak!  I didn't feel neglected!  I didn't feel like I was less wanted or that he was more important than me!  My mom still found time to help me with my homework and listen to me read."  I'm not sure why I had that brief moment of insanity.  Not only did I not feel neglected, but I GUARANTEE I'm a better person because I am his sister.  It was a PRIVILEGE to have him as my brother.  I am a better person because he was in our family.   Not only will this not be bad for my children, but it will be GOOD for them!  Good for them to recognize that they are blessed to have healthy bodies, blessed to be able to think right,  and good for them to learn to serve. This could be the best thing that ever happens to them.

It seems like my cousin Callie posted a talk given by Russell M Nelson on facebook about five million times.  After the fifth millionth time I finally read the talk, and thank you Callie, it was EXACTLY what I needed.  In his talk he said, "Stellar Spirits are often housed in imperfect bodies.  The gift of such a body can actually strengthen a family as parents and siblings willingly build their lives around that child born with special needs."

Next, the money reason.  On further thought, I can't think of anything I'd rather spend my money on.  I will never want to spend thousands of dollars on anything.  I don't even WANT a brand new van.  I'm so happy behind the wheel of that van its not even funny.  I don't WANT a bunch of new clothes or a boat (unlike Marc).  I wouldn't spend the flippin' money anyways!  It would just sit in my bank account because, as annoying people would put it, I'm cheap.  Why NOT pay for a child?

As for it being hard.  That one hasn't changed.  Yep, it will be.  I will feel overwhelmed.  It will consume my life.  It will be hard to find someone who is "crazy" enough to babysit them all.  Sacrament meeting will be a pain in the butt.  There will be days I wonder how I'm gonna make it through the day.  It will be so hard that I cry.  There will be moments that I question why I thought I could handle it. It. Will. Be. Hard.  

A couple weeks ago in sacrament meeting we were singing the opening hymn.  It was Lord I Would Follow Thee.  This song has always been a favorite of mine.  I love it.  When I started singing it this time though, something stood out to me that I've NEVER really paid attention to.  The first verse says :                    
                  Savior may I learn to love thee, 

                  walk the path that thou hast shown.

                  Pause to help and lift another, 

                  FINDING STRENGTH BEYOND MY OWN

                  Savior may I learn to love thee,

                  Lord, I would follow thee.

It hit me.  The truth is I can't do it-that's the bottom line.  I can't do it ON MY OWN!  The Lord will have to help me.  I will have to find strength beyond my own to do it.  And I will.  

After this eye-opening experience you'd think that I was set.  I still have my moments of questions, but it just keeps coming back to this song.   

The prayer.

There are those who may be asking how this all came about.  I mean, I did mention that this is something I have always wanted to do, or at least for a long time.  But why all of sudden?  Why now?  Why not wait until your children are grown?  Why do it if you can have your own children?  ALL VALID QUESTIONS, most of which we don't know the answer to.  If we figure it out we'll let you know.  Until then, just know that it is because its what the Lord has asked from us.

I can, however, tell you what has happened over the past few months...

Just before Thanksgiving I brought home my Uncle Gene's scrapbook that my mom has.  I read some of the articles that were written about my Uncle Gene to Marc that were put in the Salt Lake Tribune.  As I read them to Marc I literally started bawling.  Just to get it on the record, I'm really not much of a bawler.  I don't know what happened this night, but the Hoover Dam broke and there was no holding it back.  I thought about Uncle Gene and my Grandpa Wheadon.

Without going into much detail, they were honest, humble men who didn't care about fame or money.  They were hard-workers who earned every penny they had.  There's no amount of money you could have offered them to give up their property and their lifestyle.  They didn't care about looking good or owning worldly possessions.  You could not have impressed them with anything you owned.  My family will refer to people like them as people who "get it".  They "got" life.  People like them are few and far between.

I recognized more than ever the legacy that they left and what I have to live up to.  When I finally made it to the end of the article I said to Marc, "We are so lame." Marc didn't correct me, I'm not sure at this point if he didn't correct me because of my emotional state, or if he agreed.  After a brief moment of silence I followed it up with, "If someone were to write an article about us there would be NOTHING to say. We are SO lame."

At that moment I KNEW that I wanted to do something that eventually my grandchildren could look up to.  I wanted to do something that would put an impact on my children and make THEM want to be better.  I wanted to make a difference more than I ever have before.

Now might be the time to interject with the fact that we are in no way doing this for praise or fame.  I am not looking for The Salt Lake Tribune to drop by my house to write an article.  (Although I realize that this story may appear that way, that's not the case.)

The experience I had has been on my mind since then.  In December I was sitting with my computer and had the thought to look at the "waiting children" list that is online.  I scanned and scanned through the many pictures of children in need of a home.  While I realize I couldn't change all of their lives, I could try to change one.  Since then I've been bugging Marc about it. Marc kinda blew me off, letting me chat about it, but never being real serious.

 I have never been the type to share extremely spiritual experiences I have unless I feel prompted to do so.  I am of the opinion that sometimes spiritual experiences are often too sacred to share.  With that in mind, please understand that this is just the synopsis of what happened.  We do not feel that sharing the entire experience would be appropriate.

In January Marc and I were having our prayers before climbing into bed.  That night Marc figured it out- it was time.  Pregnancy wasn't in the cards for me.  At least not for now.  As he put it, "The next child who comes into this family will be adopted."

He shared his experience with me.  That's when I thought, "Oh NOOO!!  Maybe we shouldn't".  I was quickly backing out.  What was I thinking?  Why would we adopt a child when we can have our own?  There's no way! I thought there was a chance Marc was just nervous after my last pregnancy issues.  "Coincidentally" enough I had an appointment with my neurologist 3 weeks from then.  I assured Marc that he'd feel differently once I get the A-OK from my neurologist for another pregnancy.

To make it brief, my doctor gave me the go-ahead.  With much excitement I called Marc and presented to him the  "good news".  Somehow he didn't seem as excited as I did.  His voice didn't show any emotion.  He said, "Wendy, even as you said that to me I had the gut feeling that said, nope, that's not what we are suppose to do."

I spent the next couple weeks praying for him.  I knew if we kept praying and going to the temple that he'd figure it out.  This was all my fault!  I put this crazy idea in his head and now he's stuck on it.  What am I going to do?  I can't do this!  Adopting a child with disabilities will be hard.  TOO hard.  It will consume my life.  I don't even feel like I do a good enough job with the four I already have.  I changed my mind.

Disabilities

I had to have been 6 or 7 before I knew that He wasn't right.  I just thought that's how every little brother was.  He had us all wrapped around his finger.  He was the cutest little boy around!

We were blessed to have an angel as a member of our family.  Zak has always been the light of our home.  Everything has always (still does) revolved around him.  Holidays, birthdays, vacations, etc.  I like to think that Zak and I have always had a special bond.  We shared a room together for years.  He was my baby, my "Bople".  He and I were two years apart so we had one year in middle school together, and one year in high school.  I peer tutored his class as many periods as I could.  I was literally a peer tutor for 4 periods in my senior year of high school.

Zak has taught me many things.  Patience, love, tolerance, and compassion, just to name a few.  He has done the same thing for all the members of my family.  (As a side note, when I use the term "all of my family" it usually indicates ALL of my family, as in my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents.)  While he may not be able to read or write, he may (actually there is no MAY about it) be the world's biggest stinker and aggressive at times, he may tease my children relentlessly by taking their toys from them and saying things that will bug them, and though he will never grow up and get married or have children, he has taught every single member or my family more than he could have ever taught us if he were "normal".

Because of Zak I grew an extremely large soft spot for people with disabilities.  In fact, I'd rather be around a "handicapped" person than most "normal" people.  And that's the honest truth.  I worked at a facility for people with severe mental disabilities for years.  I grew a love for them that can't be found in most places.  I read a thing on Pinterest that was actually a picture of a bill board of sorts, that said "You haven't really lived until you've done something for someone who can never repay you."  I loved that!  Because it's true!

When I spoke with adoption agencies I was informed that, because of my health, I only qualified for a "special needs" child.  As I examine my life I realize that I was raised in a home and with a family that has put me in a position where a disability is in my comfort zone.  Zak has helped me to prepare for my own child.  See?  Another thing he has done for me.

"Disability is the inability to see ability" 

The "E" word

Most of you know that I have not had an extremely healthy body.  This really complicates things when it comes to adoption.  Turns out they want HEALTHY people to adopt children, who knew?  Just a brief history:

When I was 8 years old I had been taken into the Emergency Room for an asthma attack.  My blood pressure was through the roof.  When the doctor came in to assess the situation he started checking my pulse.  My mom said that when she watched him feel the pulse in my wrist and then reach to feel the pulse in my feet to compare the two, she knew.  She knew what he was going to say.

The doctor said to my mom, "Have you ever heard of a Coarctation of the Aorta?"  I'm not sure what my mom's response was exactly, but I believe it must have been something like, "Funny you should ask, my son just had one repaired."

I had it repaired twice when I was eight.  They have more luck of repairing it when it is found as a baby.  After the second try they decided that they'd do another surgery when I was fourteen, when I would be more grown.  At fourteen they decided to put in an entire new Aortic Valve.  I now have two Aorta's.  Bet you don't know anyone else who does!!  Pretty sad that this is my claim to fame.  I'm lame, what can I say?

I have recovered like a champ and I'm as good as new.  When I started looking into agencies I was worried that they'd see this heart issue and run.  Imagine my surprise when I figured out that apparently they don't care if your heart beats, but your brain has to function right.  That leads us to the next problem-

EPILEPSY.

When I was first married it took me over a year to get pregnant.  When I did I was delighted!  Everything seemed perfect until I woke up one morning in an ambulance.  While being unloaded on a gurney from the ambulance I was informed that I had suffered a seizure in my sleep.  A what?!  I don't have seizures.  That's weird.  I saw from a distance Marc, my parents and a few other people from my family (people do NOT understand our support system) waiting for me, waiving.

After a sleep deprived test it was found that I have epilepsy.  Once again, who knew?

I have spoken with several agencies that say that the heart is not the problem, it is the epilepsy that throws up the red flag.  Marcus really wanted to aim for a healthy child.  I kept telling him that there are PLENTY of people out there willing to adopt young, healthy children.  I'm doing this so that I can help a child who possibly would not have been adopted otherwise!  There is a 3-4 year wait for a healthy child.  We have been informed that we only qualify for a child on "The Waiting List", AKA children who have a hard time being placed in a home.

On a serious note, I just wanted to mention that am I in NO way complaining about these health problems.  I actually forget I even have a "problem", really.  Now would be the time to insert a motto that I've heard many times in my family: These are not PROBLEMS, just minor INCONVENIENCES.  I feel so blessed to live in a time where I can get medical help!   As I look around at other peoples' problems, I realize I really don't have any.

Revolving Doors

If you are reading this, you have probably now found out that Marcus and I have decided that the time is now right to add another Wyner to the group.  Poor child, adopted by a couple of crazies like us AND have to take on the last name "Wyner".  Kinda reaks. I guess it beats an orphanage.  

I decided to start this blog in hopes of not only answering some of the questions that are to follow, but also to share this entire experience with anyone interested.  I LOVE reading adoption blogs.  If you chose to put up with my sarcasm and poor grammar, you're welcome to follow us as we step out into the dark and do this! 

This is a journey that I've been bound to take for years.  I blame it on my mom and dad.  Why, you ask?  Because growing up my mom and dad have ALWAYS made their home a home to anyone in need. When I was in Elementary my parent's took in a baby (Kaylie) in hopes to adopt her.  After having our hearts ripped out when they gave her back to her mother (who was patiently waiting for her in prison) we decided that wasn't painful enough, so we decided to give fostering a try.  We had hopes to adopt.  That didn't happen either.  

Aside from all of the foster children my parent's took in, my parent's also helped raise my two cousins (who are actually what I consider sisters).  On top of that, we had several other people (including a family of six-yes, SIX) stay for periods of time.  Our home always had an open-door policy.

My mom has a decoration in her front room that says "WARD'S- Always Room For One More".  

In 1998 (I wrote it down in my journal) I watched a special program on TV called "Hearts and Hands" about a group of people who went to Ethiopia and helped orphan children there.  Since that time, I have literally ALWAYS had the idea of adopting an orphan on my mind.  Point being, this was not just something I drummed up all of a sudden.  I know that Heavenly Father planted this seed in my head years and years ago, and KNOW that this is part of the plan that he has for our family. 

So like I said, totally my parent's fault.  They taught me by example the blessings of service and compassion.  They taught me that "OUR" home was actually a blessing from God and it was HIS to share.  And that is what they did and continue to do.