|Lila can barely contain her excitement. Little sicky.|
When I got pregnant with Lila, I was especially conflicted about how to talk about and celebrate my pregnancy around my friends who had lost babies or who hoped to be pregnant and weren't yet. They told me they wanted to know, wanted to celebrate with us, wanted to be included. But I think I just thought they were being nice. I didn't think they really meant it.
Well, I'm here to tell you I mean it. I feel the same way about my friends who have had babies recently or have recently found out they are pregnant as I do about our current adoption dilemma. My emotional reaction is conflicted - entirely one thing and entirely another. Just as it's possible for me to be sad about closing the door to Ethiopia and excited about our other options, it's also possible to be sad for my failed pregnancy attempts and thrilled for their successes at the same time. Of course, depending on how fresh off a disappointment I am, I can't be sure which emotion will emerge first. So I might be able to respond in the fullest of my joy and celebration for them. Or I might have to allow my own grief to bubble up a bit as I smile and hug them through tears.
I long for our next child. And to have the colloquialism, "where in the world?" be a literal question in my mind and heart is no small thing. I literally do not know where in the world my next child is or will be. And that is an overwhelming thought.
I remember when we began our first round of adoption research back in January of 2011, we felt like we were supposed to start asking to hear people's stories. I had this sense that I would hear a story some day that felt like our story and that would help us know what road to take.
So I'm doing the same thing these days. I find myself sifting through stories, trying to identify with thought processes, emotions, and or even just core beliefs of other families. I'm reading blogs like this one and finding myself crying. I think that's something. I first had a sense we should adopt when I would sit for hours watching Gotcha Day videos and ball my eyes out. When my heart is moved it's often manifested in tears shed. So I'm taking note.
I'm being intentionally elusive about our thoughts at this point. Partly because we go through streaks where we change our minds on a daily basis (read: I change my mind) so it doesn't quite seem fair or worth it to try to keep you lovely readers abreast of what we are thinking when we are probably thinking something different by the time you read what I've written!
I will say that God has been so faithful. We asked for direction and guidance and He has given us both in the form of clear answers to our questions or simply gut feelings that something isn't the right fit. Doors are closing and a few are remaining open. We feel confident that this season of research will be fruitful and that we will come out of it with a clear path and purpose.
The Moravian text today included the following verses:
Psalm 33:4 The word of the Lord is upright, and all his work is done in faithfulness.
Hebrews 11:11 By faith even Sarah herself received ability to conceive, even beyond the proper time of life, since she considered Him faithful who had promised.
His work is done in faithfulness. Amen. And I am doing my best to consider Him faithful who has promised. The problem is, I'm not exactly sure what He has promised me. For Sarah, it was a clear promise - a son to father all the nations. I'm not sure what the result of His promise will be for me. I don't know if I will ever carry and birth a child again. I don't know if we will ever bring home one of the 5 million in Ethiopia. I don't know if we will parent a child with special needs. I don't know.
But one thing I do know, whatever the gift resulting from His promise: it will be good.