15 December 2011


Sometimes I like it. Most of the time I don't mind. But sometimes it just gets a little ridiculous. I like being a passionate person (all in all). But the crying? I mean, snuggling my baby, movies, commercials, a good memory, a moving thought... I cry a lot. Not necessarily boo-hoo, but you know. Tears.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyway. I think this next season of my life is going to be tearful. Preparing to parent a child who is coming from a place of such loss... I hope I get used to it, cause I can't cry every time I think about it. Right? And I'm sure there will be tears of frustration during the waiting and the having to get everything right and in order and while humming the tune they want while standing on my head... Well, I'm not excited for all the tears.

But mostly the thinking about Baby A. When I think about Ezra not having someone to hold him when he's upset, or to look back at him in delight when he figures something new out and searches for someone to be proud of him. Not having someone to quiet him when his gums hurt at night. Not having that safe person, that haven. The mommy and the daddy. It's hard to bear thinking of the situations orphans come out of. And even while living in well-run and well-meaning institutions... well they don't have the ability to care for the kids the way parents do. I know it will become more and more real.

I don't have to grieve the loss of biological children the way many couples who struggle with infertility have to. But I will have to grieve the loss of control. The loss of protection. The inability to mother my child until s/he is with me. And that's going to be hard.

I just ask, "Lord, would You make these tears productive in whatever way You want? I want Your heart for Baby A."

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