So, I’ve been trying to sort out how to start this story. It’s been difficult to articulate. Difficult to pick which details to share, and which to hold close. But it’s a story too good, too beautiful, not to share – so here goes!
When Matt and I first became parents, we thought our family was complete. We envisioned raising Ethan surrounded by loving friends and family – just the two of us. Given all that we had gone through to finally become parents, we felt content with just the one child. The most adorable boy in the whole wide world. Our Ethan was the apple of our eyes – the most amazing gift. We marveled at all of his accomplishments, soaked up all his love and personality, and celebrated the joy of parenthood at every exhausting, wonderful turn.
Along the way, we’ve built a strong and loving relationship with Ethan’s birthmother. We visit yearly, and stay in close contact with pictures, emails, and texts. I have attempted to describe my feelings for her many times over the course of these past few years…but my words don’t do it justice. She and I will always and forever be connected through our love for this beautiful boy we both call our son. I love her – it is as simple and true as that. She and I will always share an indescribable bond.
Last summer we learned she was pregnant again and wondered what the future would hold for this child. In our hearts, we knew right away that if asked, we would of course welcome this child into our family as well. We prepared a home study, just in case…and covered her and the baby in constant prayers.
In November she reached out to ask if indeed we would consider adopting this child – the answer was a quick and easy yes…understanding how heartbroken she was to have to ask. Open adoption is so much more complicated than I can easily explain here, friends. Regardless of how wonderful it ends up, it always starts from a place of heartbreak. And so the roller coaster began – preparing for the potential adoption of Ethan’s sibling – the details of which I’ll keep close. But suffice it to say, it was…tough. I found myself in constant prayer and praise for the amazing story unfolding in our lives…at the same time praying for peace and comfort, should things go another direction. Nothing was set in stone…and that is a tough space to live in. Half in, half out. All.the.time.
At home we prepared – moving Ethan to the big boy room, settling him there and beginning to talk about the idea of us having a baby in the house. He seemed excited, and a little aloof, like a typical toddler. We dug out and cleaned up baby clothes and other essentials, and started packing the baby’s bag for FL. As the weeks went by things seemed to solidify enough that we shared our potential addition with some coworkers, friends, and family. Each of them celebrated with baited breath, as did we. Each evening after tucking in sweet Ethan, I would pause in the nursery room door and wonder if soon there would actually be a baby in there. And if not, prayed God would grant me the strength to pack it all away with peace.
And then…last Friday afternoon…I got the call.
The doctor had been comparing ultrasound results from December to February and became concerned that the baby was not growing enough. So she put in an order for her to be induced. The rest of that afternoon/evening is a blur – booking plane tickets, talking with the adoption attorney, packing up Ethan’s bag for his extended stay with Grandma and Grandpa, packing up the dog and sending her off with Hope, trying to clean out the fridge, the garbage, etc etc. We laid down to sleep a few hours, wondering how things would unfold.