Our home study is tomorrow, and it's happening again- I'm getting nesting urges for this child. For so long nothing seemed to be going on and the adoption felt unreal. Like we would wake up one day in our 50's and think "remember that time we tried to adopt? ". But it's happening. We are moving towards adoption. We are moving towards the day that we meet our birth mom. A young woman is about to have her heart ripped out and pass it on to someone else. A young woman that we will always be connected to...and we don't even know her name yet. I already ache for this person. I already cry for her and the pain that she is facing right now and the increasing pain she will face when she places her child into our arms. I pray that she is not alone in facing this burden. This grief. I am thankful for our caseworkers and the tireless work they do in loving on these moms. But I know it's not enough. This world of hurt can only be healed by Jesus, and I most of all I pray that for her. That Jesus will wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight as He whispers promises of hope in her ear, reaching all the way to her very heart.
In the meantime, through the tears, the prayers, the grief...for her...there is joy. And excitement. I started pulling out fabric for a baby quilt last night, Moonpie standing by for recommendations and vetoing power, talking about how much she loves this baby already and wants to make her/him a raggy quilt and a baby doll. I'm dreaming of cloth diapers and sweet little baby hats. Of late night feedings, and what exactly will that look like this time around? I'm daydreaming about this child, the timing, the race, the sex- all the unknowns. Wondering how this is all going to go down. Wondering why we have been chosen for this painful, beautiful mystery of adoption-
and grateful for it.