Today is November 30th, which marks the end of Adoption Awareness Month. For years, I celebrated this month, these thirty days, in honor of all my friends who had adopted or been adopted themselves, but this particular year has caused us to celebrate in a very personal, very raw way.
*Photo by Emerson Iris Photography |
TJ and I talked about our desire to adopt before we became husband and wife, but our path to this looked much different than the one we’ve actually walked. If it had been up to us, we would have had three or so biological children before adding to our family via adoption. We would have had time to be “ready” for such a big pursuit.
As you know, this wasn’t how our story played out.
Nearly three years ago when my life hung in the balance after welcoming our precious Braxton into the world, everything we thought we knew shifted. For a year following those scary few days, we grieved with all of our hearts. We were thankful for the gift of one biological child, something we grievously know is not true for everyone, but it took time to truly be at peace with how our future would now look. I faked it with my big smile on the outside (y’all know the one), but those closest to me knew how much my heart ached.
Then, in January of this year, shortly after Braxton turned two, TJ and I were both on the same page: it was time. It was almost as if we weren’t “ready” until we took that first step towards adoption by attending an adoption fair. Isn’t that always the case? For us it has been, anyway. Peace followed obedience.
On May 8th, we became active clients with our agency, Quiver Full Adoptions, and then we matched with baby girl’s first mama a short twenty-one days later, a Memorial Day we’ll never forget. Meeting her and hearing her say that she wanted us to be the family to bring home her baby was the moment that peace transformed into thrill. And for the next 25 weeks, the thrill grew with every new second as we undeservedly walked with her through pregnancy.
*Photo by Emerson Iris Photography |
Before we began living out our adoption story, I was ignorant to just how beautiful it could be. I mean, I knew it was incredible based on others’ experiences, but to have it played out in our life was too magnificent to be described by mere words. We didn’t just bring a new baby into our family like we originally thought. Instead, we brought our baby girl, her first mama, AND her first mama’s closest supporters into our family, too. And I promise that it’s the most amazing thing we’ve ever known.
For the last two plus years, I’ve wrestled with this looming question off and on: “Why me, Lord?” I would ask this especially in my most profound moments of grief, leaning on my faith as the only source of hope. I would pray honestly, saying things like, “Lord, the plans we made were good ones. You were at the center of all of it. Are those plans, those deeply-rooted dreams, really over? Am I really a barren woman because of sickness? Aren’t all the trials I’ve faced in my short twenty-eight years enough?”
In response to all of those questions, all those cries, I always heard the same response:
“Trust me, daughter.”
Now I know the answer to all of those questions. I am not barren, I am blessed. I am not sick, but eternally healed. I am not yet done facing trials, but I’m being equipped by His Spirit to overcome them. My dreams have not died, they have simply been rewritten. And I am not wise enough to make plans that are best for me, but I can seek after the wisdom that gives me a heavenly perspective and an earthly purpose.
*Photo by Emerson Iris Photography |
The fallen state of this world beckoned me to give up hope and turn to despair, but God in His goodness made a way where there was no way. God redeemed the brokenness that tried to bind me. And He will continue to breathe redemption over our every circumstance, every situation, forever.
We were burdened. Our birth mama was burdened. And God in His sovereignty intertwined our stories in order to lift those burdens. To restore hope.
That’s the beauty of adoption.
And that’s our story.
It’s not the one we penciled for ourselves, but it is infinitely more, infinitely better.
*Photo by Emerson Iris Photography |
I’ve only been an adoptive mama for thirteen days, which is hardly long enough to give me any rapport. We are just at the beginning of our journey, and I know we will face many hard conversations and moments ahead as we navigate the ins and outs of this blessing. But as long as we don’t lose sight of that fact — that we are blessed — then we will thrive.
One of my children grew in my belly. One of my children grew in another woman’s belly. But they both grew in my heart.
And they’ll both continue to grow in my arms.
*Photo by Emerson Iris Photography |
That’s what our story of love looks like. It’s a story that began with promise, knew hard grief, and resolved with immeasurably more than any of our wildest dreams could comprehend.
Because of adoption, our family has grown by two feet and then some. Because of adoption, we know more now about selfless love than we ever did before. Because of adoption, our faith has been tested and has emerged from the fire stronger than ever.
Adoption is hard. Adoption is costly. Adoption is messy. Adoption is redemptive.
Adoption is worth it.
Our baby girl and her first mama are worth it. And they always, always will be.
Our path to bringing home our baby through adoption didn't take the same turns as we thought it would. Instead, it was exponentially better. We had no way of knowing this prior to walking it, but we know it now. And we are grateful -- oh, so grateful -- that things didn't go our way.
*Photo by Emerson Iris Photography |
“May he grant your heart’s desires and make all your plans succeed. May we shout for joy when we hear of your victory and raise a victory banner in the name of our God. May the Lord answer all your prayers.”
-Psalm 20:4-5