Two years ago
today, my life changed forever. I lost a
baby and I found out having one would be a challenge. I can still remember
shivering in the emergency room and every single minute leading up to the
surgery when I lost a piece of me. It’s
only natural that I’ve been pretty blue for the past few weeks, okay months,
but this time the pain is different.
This time, more than anything, I just miss my babies. I miss the one I lost. I miss the ones we are going to have. How do I describe it? It’s like when you miss someone so bad it
literally hurts. When your spouse is
gone for a long time on a business trip or when you haven’t seen your family in
a long time. It’s a homesick heartbreak
ache all in one.
You would think
that since we are approved to adopt and published online, this would be
easier. It was, at first, but as this
anniversary date drew nearer, the peace I once felt about waiting to be chosen
gradually slipped away. Now, every time
I check my email and every time the phone rings, there’s a hope, an excitement,
that it’s a birthparent reaching out to us or our social worker calling to tell
us good news. And each and every time,
there is a let down. It’s tormenting.
I’m at a point of begging and pleading to Him to please let it be time. The hardest part is I know it’s not, because
it’s not according to my time. And
the weirdest thing of all is I am grateful it’s not.
