adoptioncy (dear Amelia)

Adoptioncy is a word i just made up to express what an expectant Mamma -to-be goes through during the pregnancy of her soon to be child. The Mamma who is waiting for her baby to be born, the Mamma who googles "stork" to see where this mythical creature lives so she can knock on his door and say "Excuse me, I believe you have my baby? I want her now please." The Mamma who can not carry a child for her own unique reason, everyone has a different one, so she waits for the day when someone else delivers the child that she has been growing in her heart since day one.

  When a woman knows her child is on her way, she goes through "nesting" and anxiety. She experiences joy, fear, excitement, a sense of urgency to prepare her nest for the precious gift that will soon arrive. This sense is no different for a pregnancy than it is for an adoptioncy. I have witnessed this preparation recently and I feel a similar sense of nesting in honor of the home that my niece will soon occupy.
  I have only ever finished one handmade project as a gift for someone else. I made a welcome banner for my Mom a few years ago. With a small mirical and the help of my MIL it was finished by Christmas so I could give this to my Mom. Usually, I get this sense of pride when I make something. It is mine, it is a part of me, and if I actually was able to FINISH something it is because I was moved enough to make it. This is not a mistake, I don't mean motivated (i don't have lack of that!), I mean moved. It has to be important enough to me to actually take the time to focus on it.
  If you remember from a previous post I have ADHD, it takes a lot of energy and will power for me to focus on one thing, especially to be able to finish it. So most of the time I am content to float along life's river and bounce from one bank to the other.
  So where I am going with all of this is that in my own honorary nesting period I felt moved to make something for my baby niece. Knowing that this new precious addition to our family is going to live 27 hours away, and that she may not get the chance to know me as well as my Mass. nieces and nephews know me, I felt moved to create something out of love for her. I want her to know that I love her just as equally as my other nieces and nephews and that she is every ounce as important to me! I want to give her a piece of myself to keep forever. Something I haven't done for anyone else besides my Mamma.
  Lately I have been crocheting again. I started a project several years ago (around 6?) and then put it away in my craft drawer. I pulled it out a few weeks ago and started making a baby blanket for my hope chest. The reason I thought of it was because in reading the blog of my SIL I saw a pic she posted of a hudson bay blanket that she made during her adoptioncy for my soon to be niece! Well, the closer we get to the birth of my newest niece, the more I felt drawn to blessing her parents and doing something special for her too. I decided to make her a travel sized blanky, that can easily be stashed in a diaper bag, car seat, or any other small space. I am making it with yarn that my DH and I spent hours searching for. Up and down the aisle, up and down the shelves, picking, sorting, touching, hugging, and attempting to visualize for this precious bundle. I had to have 100% cotton with a tight weave. I didn't want acrylic or angora or wool or anything of the sort. I didn't want small fibers detatching and getting her all fuzzy and linty, or end up in her mouth! I didn't want a yarn that would cause her newborn skin to become irratated. I didn't want her to have an allergic reaction to wool or alpaca fibers. I wanted pure, American grown and spun, cotton.
  The yarn my DH found is called "Guacamole" how cool is that? It is a gorgeous blend of green, off white, and mustardy/greenish colors. I found a pretty yarn called "Desert rising" that complimets the guacamole colors so wonderfully. I had asked my SIL, mamma to be, what her theme was for her baby. I knew she wouldn't fit the stereotype, she's too creative for that! Her answer was mustard. If you saw all the pretty vintage items in this baby's nursery you would see just how beautiful and girly a vintage mustard can look in a baby girl's room.
  So I have been "yarning" as my little friend Hannah likes to call it (crocheting for real) for a few days. I can't stop thinking about it. I don't want to put it down. I am excited. I can't wait for Amelia to come home to her Mamma and Pappa and forever be my niece :o) This will be the first gift I have made for anyone in a few years and only the second ever that I have made and given away.
  That's how important you are to me Amelia, important enough to give a piece of my heart to. Because everything I make with my hands is just that important to me. And you are more.

Love Aunty JJ

Dear God,
   Thank you for the amazing gift of love you have blessed my family with. Thank you for the blessing of putting each member, birth or in-law, on this earth to knit us together. Thank you for blessing my brother and his wife with the most amazing gift we could all ask for, a baby girl to be our very own. Lord you know my heart, you know the hearts of each member of our family. You know how much we love this girl and she hasn't even taken her first breath yet. I am asking you, pleading with you, to help this girl come into the world healthy and strong. I am asking for your will Lord, and asking that your hand would be in every moment of Amelia's life. I ask that you would fall heavily upon the hearts of each person in the birthing room, each person involved in this pregnancy and adoption God. I ask that you will guide each heart and mind and that your hand would not lift from the life of each person involved. God I pray that Amelia would go safely home with Adam and Janel and that she will be blessed with the home that her birth mother wants for her. I ask that Amelia would always know how very much she is loved and how very real and important YOU are God. I pray for your guidance and for your mercy on all of us. Thank you Lord.
Amen.