My mother has been bothering me for years to write a blog. Every year I have the same answer… “What would I have to say that people would want to read?” I tell her when I have an answer for that question, I will write a blog. I seriously don’t know how people have time to write them. I don’t even have time to take a shower. Literally. It’s a problem. I don’t know how all these women out there write blogs. Not only are they writing blogs, they are writing blogs about all the crafts and food they make. How are they finding time for that? And most of them have more than one child. I only have one, and I need a shower, badly.
Now, I have something to write about. It’s been a long time coming and I stay up at nights thinking about it. I have been waiting for the perfect time, and I realized, there is no perfect time. I have to stop wasting time and do it …now. Four years ago, I went to Africa. Four years ago I made promises to people there that I would not forget them, that I would tell their stories. Four years ago. What have I done in four years?
My mom thought of the title “Before and Africa” and I actually love it. There are a lot of things my mom and I agree on, but usually when she has an idea “for” me, I politely turn her down. But this title struck a chord in me. I thought about all the blogs out there about style and fashion and craftiness and I thought about how my blog would probably be the antithesis of that. Maybe I do always buy the same long sleeved shirts at the GAP every three years when the old ones get holes in them. Maybe I do still have the same tennis shoes I bought for 30 bucks 6 years ago. Maybe I do only get my hair cut once a year. Maybe I am in desperate need of a style makeover, but I think this blog is more of a before and after of my soul. My soul before and now my soul (after) Africa…
So thanks mom, for the title and for recognizing there has been a change in me and that even though I have a hard time finding the words, it’s time to start trying.

Saturday, June 28, 2014

M is for Moses

              From my porch I was watching the pink peak thru the big dark oak trees as the sun threatened to leave me behind while it slid behind the golf course. And I just couldn't help but think about the idea of being left behind, forgotten, alone. And I was hoping my baby didn't feel that way tonight as he lay in a crib alone. I ache for him. I know that God aches for me more intensely and that is almost unfathomable.  As the pink turned to gray and the darkness crept in tonight I felt so incredibly lonely... For my sweet baby Moses. My beautiful boy. I wonder if I have ever waited with such longing for anything? I think I have not. He has always been my desire. I believe there are desires that God gives us and then there are surprises that He gives us (that we never knew we wanted/needed).  My first son was a blessed surprise. My second son has been my deep desire. I have longed for him, even knowing his name long ago. Moses. Drawn up out of the water. Moses who was adopted into another race and family. My Moses. My Max. My two sons of whom I am so pleased and proud.  Thank you God for them. But just one tiny favor? Could they both live here now? Could we be a family? Please? I've waited a lifetime it seems. I'm weary of waiting. I'm ready to be blessed by the presence of our son. I know you promised this to us and we have waited.  

That was a journal entry from a few weeks ago when I was feeling hopeless.  It's been months and months and months of no news.  And now (some) of the wait is over.  We can tell you Baby M is now officially Moses.  

              In the last couple months, every time I sit down to try and write a post, I end up deleting it and walking away from the computer.  It's not that I don't want to keep everyone in the's that we've been in total limbo, and I was so unsure of everything, and it all has been making me just so sad.  We have been anticipating a trip in August to the DRC to meet our son...which is what keeps me going most days.  Knowing I will get to hold him soon.  And then it will be another 6 gut wrenching months of waiting...if not more.  And that is why I can't bring myself to write it down.  But in the last few days we have gotten some exciting news.  We have passed court in the DRC and MOSES  is now officially our son. 

                Now begins the U.S. investigation which can take 3-6 months. But according to the courts in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Moses, belongs to the Schmids. He's now one of us.  We now pay for his foster care and we will soon get updates with pictures all the time! On July 2nd our little boy will be put on a bus and make a 12 hour journey to his new home in Kinshasa. (the capital of the DRC). This is the place we will travel to in just over 7 weeks to squeeze him for the very first time.  
                I have been giving myself little tasks now that most of our paperwork has been completed.  Max and I made a photo album with pictures of us and the dogs and our house and their that Moses will be able to see what home looks like.  We've been working on a little care package with clothes, lotion, a few small toys, toothbrush, etc.  I literally can't wait to put it in the mail.  It's like I have been holding my breath for a over a year and now I can just exhale because he's ours.  I can tell you his name, I can show you his picture, I can be his mommy.  It's not ideal yet, and we're not totally free of the anxiety (The DRC still isn't issuing exit letters, but we hope that will be resolved by March at least, or sooner for all the other families that have been in limbo for over a year) but we have HOPE now and something to HOLD onto.  
                Tonight I was putting Max to bed and he was just about asleep when the phone rang.  Normally I would never answer a phone call when he is drifting off, but this is the call we have been waiting for.  When she told me "He's yours!" I was filled with so much emotion,  I got up and paced like a mad woman around Max's room while I asked her every question I could think of.  I went downstairs to tell Tony and we both had to get Max back in bed.  Max was confused because I was crying and Tony was telling him Moses was ours.  When Tony left the room Max asked me if we could "go get him now?" I told him that we still had to wait and he started, hard.  So I laid there holding my sensitive three year old son as his little body convulsed with sobs.  (He may have just been really tired and confused by our emotions, but to me, it was a little boy grieving for his brother).  This was solidified as we lay there and I watched him stare at the ceiling. I asked him what he was thinking about, and he took some time and finally said, "I'm thinking of how we can go and get Moses."  He said, "What are you thinking about Mommy?" I said I am thinking about how I love you so much, and I love Moses so much...and I can't wait to go get him either."  He said "When we get him, I will wear my Buzz Lightyear shirt, will that make you happy mommy?"  "Yes buddy, that will make me very happy."  Then he laid his favorite bear right by my head and said,  "Here's my bear, mommy, he will make you happy because he has a big smile on his face."  And rolled over and fell asleep.  Oh. My. Goodness.  What a moment.  Oh. My. Goodness. I have two children.  Lots of emotions tonight.  Lots of excitement in the Schmid house.  I will now have regular updates as we will start getting more pictures, but for now I can finally show you the pictures we have been poring over since January.  The only connection we have had to our son.  Here you go, prepare yourself, because his eyes pretty much look into your soul.  Our baby Moses!



photos we got a few months after the first set:

Friday, June 20, 2014

Saying Goodbye

                      I have been putting off writing this blog post.  Maybe it’s because I don’t want it to be real.  I don’t want him to be gone.  But once again, God re-affirms that it is never about what I want.  Life isn’t what we want it to be…most of the time.  But life is what it is.  Life is a breath in, and a breath out, and then, life is gone.  But his soul lives on and his imprint is left on hearts.  And although life is not what we want it to be…most of the time….most of the time life is still a beautiful thing, and we were reminded of this during Dave’s memorial service.  We were reminded of this as we watched our sister Allison say goodbye to her husband and break the news to her girls with grace and strength.  
                     Days after Dave passed, I had a dream.  I tend to have vivid dreams amidst important events.  I believe this is when God speaks to my heart.  I was in Dave and Allison’s house and Dave had come back but he made it clear he only had 10 minutes to talk.  I ran to find Allison.  It was Dave as we best remember him; strong, healthy, reassuring.  Allison said “things are really heavy around here since you’ve been gone, we are all just so sad.” Dave just looked at her and said “Things will get better, just take it one day at a time and do the best you can.”  Then one of the girls was yelling and Allison said “I have to go!” Dave said, “It will be ok.”  And then he was gone.  I woke up immediately feeling like I got to say goodbye, like I got to see him one more time.  The last time we saw him we had no idea we would never see him on earth again.  I squeezed his hand as I left his hospital room and said “We love you, keep fighting buddy.”  Thinking he would, and thinking he would win.  And although Dave lost his battle to cancer, he won the everyday battle to not let cancer take away his will to live.  Even at the end, he was still trying to live.  He wasn’t afraid to die, this we know, but he wasn’t ready to leave his family.  He never let on how much pain he was in.  And so I have a feeling he would not want us to be in pain now.  He would want us to celebrate his life and continue with ours…but how will his wife and his children do this?  One day at a time.  Do the best you can.  And if that means you want to cry all day at any point, you can.  If that means you laugh all day and enjoy yourself, you can.    There is no rulebook for grief.  There is no right and wrong.  Life is what it is.  And Dave’s life…was….beautiful.  

As another one of my inspirations Maya Angelou put it:

"Maybe the hardest part is if you teach, you have to live your teaching"

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

"You are the sum total of everything you've ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot - it's all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that I try to make sure that my experiences are positive."

“I've learned that making a ‘living’ is not the same thing as ‘making a life'.”

These quotes comfort me as I know that Dave did all these things.  He made people feel good (ask Allison or his girls) He made a life, not just a living (ask any of his students) He was always so positive (ask his nurses or doctors).  So thank you Dave, for the impact you made on so many lives, I can only hope that when it's my time...I will have that many people say that many great things about me.  

Monday, May 12, 2014

M is for.....MELISSA

I love my baby sister.  If she had a fan club I would definitely be the president.   She ran the farthest her little legs have ever taken her this past weekend...all to raise money for baby M.  No one has been as enthusiastic about this adoption as she has.  Maybe it's because she knows what it's like to hold a baby with no parents.  Maybe it's because she was the one who held me as I sobbed in a toilet/shower stall in Africa when we had to leave those babies.  She knows what it's like to lose a piece of your heart to a country, to an orphan.  So she endured hours of training and completed the longest race of her life.  And I am so grateful.  Not only did she raise $1000 for our matching grant, she made me the proudest big sister on the planet.  Thanks Aunt Lis...for loving our son, and for your selfless, priceless gift to our family.  Your work will be rewarded.  Loya.

And she didn't even look actually I hate her.  But seriously, I love her. 
With Melissa's help...we are at $2434 of our $3000 grant.  Only $566 left to go! If you want to support the last leg of our adoption expenses click the donate button below:

don't forget to put our name and account number :)
Enter Family Name: Schmid
Enter  Family Acct. #: 4391

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Running the Race

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.  Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.  1 Corinthians 9:24-27

The last few years we have been racing.  We’ve done triathlons, mini marathons, and a marathon.  But we haven’t been doing them to win any medals.  We run for something else.  We don’t run aimlessly.

 If you know the story of our brother-in-law, you know that he has been battling cancer for the last four years and this week he's been fighting hard.   He’s been in a lot of pain and for the first time in over 12 years (I think…maybe more) He was unable to run the Indy Mini marathon this weekend.  It was Tony's 33rd birthday,  and I know he would have felt more like celebrating if he had Dave running next to him.  They've gone down to the race together the last couple years, and Dave was there at the finish line when Tony finished his first one.  Dave is tough and also able to keep things lighthearted enough to keep us laughing.  After having 4.5 liters drained from his abdomen the other day on his Facebook he said “feeling drained.” And that’s Dave. He’s been continuing to stay so positive, but anyone who knows him knows that when he can’t continue to do the things he normally does,  that’s when he gets frustrated.  He wants to be there for his family.  He wants to be there for his  students.  He wants to be Dave.  He wants to run the race too…and he is, even when he isn’t physically.  He’s continuing to keep the faith and run the race.  And that’s what we love about him.  And that’s why we know we will all run the mini marathon next year …together. 

Keep up with Dave's fight here:
They've almost reached their 15,000 goal!

We continue to run the race. 

Wearing Uncle Dave's hat

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Waiting Pains

It's funny how with my pregnancy, I was so scared and wasn't sure if I even wanted to be a mother. Now, this time around, I can't wait to be a mother… again.  Everything changed the day I held max for the first time, everything. It's so cliche to say but if you knew me before max, you know how true this is in my life. As we trade in the diapers for Spider-man underwear and the sippy cups for big cups, and the crib for a bed....I can't wait to do it all over again. But this time instead of dreading the day of labor I am laboring in the pains of waiting. I call it waiting pains.  

We found out this week that our wait will be longer than anticipated, we think Baby M will be 2 by the time he's home with us and this is HARD to imagine…another year of missing everyday with him.   I think of the thousands of photos and memories and moments we had with max in his first two years of life, and it's killing me. I love Baby M so much and I haven't even held him, or smelled him, or woken up late at night to comfort him when he is sick. Instead all I can do is wait for him...most days I'm at peace with that, but every once in awhile I feel it well up in me and overflow...I will pass his picture in the hallway and I will catch my breath and the tears come so fast that I can't stop them...and my sweet, precious, sensitive boy says "what's wrong momma?" And all I can say is "I am sad baby." Just really really sad.  I am sad for Tony and I am sad for me and I am sad for everyone who has supported this family and is waiting to meet Baby M.  But I am mostly sad for Max and Baby M, that they will go another year without knowing each other. 

The other night Tony was putting Max to bed and I left the room after saying prayers with them and I heard Max crying.  I went back in and Tony told me he was crying because I forgot to pray for Baby M.  We pray for him every night…that God would keep him safe and bring him home.  Somewhere in Max’s little heart, it hit him that Mom forgot to pray for his brother.  And that this MATTERED.  I get sad thinking we will be saying this prayer for another 365 days…if not longer…but we will continue to pray this, and we will continue to hope for SOON. 

In the meantime, we may have the opportunity this fall to go meet our son.  If we have to wait another year, there is no question that we will do everything we can to see him.  We thought we may only have to go once to the Congo, so this will definitely be more of a financial strain.  But we HAVE to go.  We HAVE to hug him. We HAVE to laugh with him.  Even if it's only for a few days.  We have to.  If you feel led to help us match our matching grant here is the info!  Help us meet our son!  We are halfway to our goal of $3,000! Thanks to everyone who has helped us get there!

click the donate button

Enter Family Name: Schmid
Enter  Family Acct. #: 4391

On a lighter note: Thanks to everyone who participated in our March Madness Fundraiser!!!  Congrats to the winner, Renee Dreher who is actually in the Congo right now!  Can’t wait to hear about her trip and the country that will be a part of our lives forever.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

March Madness...DO IT!!!!

NOTE:  Participation is by donation donate, click the donate button

Enter Family Name: Schmid
Enter  Family Acct. #: 4391

Here's the link for the brackets: 
Group Name: Schmid Baby Brackets
Password: congo (all lowercase)