a new light
Summer solstice occurs when the earth is tilted at its greatest point towards the sun, and the sun, hovering above earth for longer than any other day, shines its maximum rays before journeying back towards the equator.
Solstice has long been a time for celebration, being the longest day of the year and first day of summer for many. Pagans believe it marks the marriage or union between sun (god) and earth (goddess). The month of June has long been popular for weddings, as a time to celebrate love and fertility. The “honey” moon in June was the best time to harvest honey from bees, and honey was fed to the new bride and groom to encourage fertility. The name lives on in the traditional celebration after the ceremony (“honeymoon” for you slow folks). (For more solstice fun, check this out.)
Like Lori, I also appreciate the deeper profound meaning of this astronomical event, as it relates to the natural “ebb and flow” of life. This year, it takes on even greater significance in my own life. And no, it is not a time for fertility in the traditional sense.
For more than four years, the demon of infertility has hovered over me, blinding and burning. I’ve stood in its path — while time seemed to stop — waiting, wishing, willing, with a focus on it above almost all else. I cursed its power and prayed for its mercy.
While there is no denying infertility will always be a force in my life, I am trying to loosen the grip of its strength, to escape its scorching heat and wrath, to diminish its power. I am finally trying to allow my life to revolve around something other than my infertility.
And yet. M and I still have this burning desire to parent. An urgency. Our lives, full as they are, seem wholly incomplete without a child with which to share our love.
So after much reflection and searching our hearts, we have decided to pursue domestic open adoption.
We are now completing the initial paperwork we set aside last fall, and hope to complete our home study application within the week. Next week, the day before we go away to celebrate our 12th anniversary, we will meet with a highly-recommended facilitator, who has a separate application process.
We know this is just the beginning of another long journey. But it’s a new path. We have been encouraged to trust in the process, and we plan to learn as much as we can to prepare ourselves. Once again, we are finding reason for hope. In the meantime, we are trying to reclaim our lives.