Sometimes I wonder what it's like.
What it's like to decide to grow your family and botta-boom, less than a year later there's another delicious baby to hold and love. A new name added to the Christmas card. Ten more finger nails to clip.
I can't quite wrap my brain around it. It's not how our story has played
out, so I wonder. Simple as that. Just like I wonder what it would be
like to live in Hawaii or if it's going to rain tonight or what this new year will bring. I wonder stuff.
I used to be jealous. Oh yes, I was. Wow, she's expecting again? She *just* told me they were hoping to get pregnant soon. Woe is me. When will it be my turn? Where's the chocolate! Those feelings came from a place of deep sadness, but it doesn't make them ok. Jealousy
is a stinker. It steals joy and makes you think crazy things. It's a
slippery slope into empty and lonely. It's wrong
and it's yuck. No thanks. Moving on.
I have no lingering infertility
sadness or a desire to give birth that just won't quit. God has poured
that out of me and healed me. He has brought adoption into
my life and it's the gift that keeps unwrapping itself. Not only does it
give Kevin and me the opportunity to be parents, it's also opening my
eyes wide to the hurt and the need and the beauty of this world. My
heart is in a peaceful place right now and has been in this sweet
little space for a while, thanks be to Jesus and all the grace He doles
out on me. Clearly, it hasn't always been this way. I used to fret when
my ideal family portrait didn't match up with what He was cooking up for
us :
Waiting countless years for a kiddo? Fret like a maniac.
I want to adopt again stat. I don't want to wait. Fret.
Our kids need to be two years apart. I read in some random magazine that two years is the golden rule of sibling spacing. Fret.
That's not a way to live out this
precious life. It's not the way to appreciate all the good staring me
in the face and wrapping itself around me. So I'm done with that. God's
gifts abound and I'm seeing them. Truly seeing them instead of
past them. I take Titus' sweet little face in my hands
and smooch him til he wiggles and giggles away. He'll be be three this winter. And for a year I've fretted, I've worried, I've prayed.
Maybe there are people who look at me and wonder what it's like to not be able to grow your family when you want to. To
need tens and tens of thousands of dollars to do it. To wait and wait
and wait without a due date. To grasp a photo in your hand and love a baby born across an ocean. To
look into almondy eyes and want to do a backflip because being in love
with this child is the best.thing.ever. To be such a perfectly perfect
match must be something.
If you're wondering, it is. The best kind of something.
After eighteen months of praying and waiting and wondering, and hoping we are pleased to announce that we are once again going back to Taiwan for our next little one. For a year it seemed as if God was closing one door after another: THOGL is only helping childless couples, 2012 child advocacy laws in Taiwan slowed adoptions way down, most agencies began shutting down their Taiwan programs due to the confusion of the 2012 laws and changes looming. But, finally God opened a single door and we are trusting Him and longing to meet and hold our second little blessing.
So yes, I wonder, but mostly I pray prayers of thanks and tag on extra whispers for our next littles. I'm here and ready when you are. Keep heaping that peace to my heart, Lord. I
rest my head on the pillow of God's promises. It's comfy here. I'm
content and hopeful. He's got this whole thing covered - something He's
proven time and time again. He's the one who hands out the gifts - whether I've hoped for them for a moment or for years. Who better to receive them from?
Our palms are open wide.
