Never Say Never

I look at Baby Z, and he's so grown!   He just turned 9 months old, and he's doing all these new tricks...and I want him to stop and be a baby.  He's cruising on furniture, and crawling everywhere, and saying "dada" and his oldest sister's name, and he can wave hi, and feed himself, and he has two (soon to be three) teeth.    And I'm buying him 12-18 month clothing.

When I was in the sleep-deprived early days, when he would wake every 3 hours to feed, I wanted time to hit the accelerator and give me a break.   It was winter.  DEAD of winter.  Cold.  Gray.  Bleak.   I had three children under age four, stuck indoors, for weeks and weeks on end.  It was tough, to say the least. 

And now that those days have past (they seem so long ago), I yearn to cuddle a newborn against my chest again.  To dress him or her in tiny sleepers.   To gaze at tiny fingers and toes.  

I asked my husband a few weeks ago about adopting again. 

He says we are done.

So I said, "You know I've always had a way of knowing about adoption, about our family.   We aren't done." 

Then I asked him, "Did God tell you we are done adopting?"

And he said, "No."  (Sigh of relief....interrupted by...)   "I told God we are done adopting."

I laughed.

Three kids is tough.  I've heard having three is the hardest number.  And our three littles are young, each only two years apart in age.   Every day is a challenge...

But mostly, it's an incredible blessing.

Three kids.  Three birth families.  Three wonders of God who rely on me to feed them, clothe them, encourage them, discipline them, read to them, sing to them, play with them, tuck them in, bathe them.   Three young souls who need nurturing, love, lessons, listening. 

Let me tell you about some knowing.

When we started the paperwork to adopt a second time, we did so before we felt 100% ready because we knew we'd likely wait awhile. After all, we already had one child, and many expectant mothers choose families who have no children.   Our paperwork was 99% done when one day, I felt an incredible urging to call our our secondary agency to share that they could go ahead and show our profile book because we were so close to being ready.

Our social worker said, "Funny you called.  We have a couple looking at profiles tonight.  The baby is already here.  Do you want to be shown?"

I felt the familiar tinge of adoption excitement, followed by a good self-talking-to.  (I mean really, what are the odds?  We had a child already.  It was our first profile showing.)    I told the SW I'd ask my husband and let her know.   My husband, much like me, was like, why not?   So we said yes.

That evening, we attended my husband's grandfather's visitation.   While my husband and his family greeted guests, I, of course, entertained the children (my two nephews and my two-year-old daughter) with art projects, snacks, videos, and toys.   I kept my cell phone close by, feeling increasingly nervous with each passing hour.   We could know something soon.  Any moment.  

The visitation drew to an end without a call or text.   I packed up the kids' toys and threw trash away.  I picked up my phone to place it in my purse when I saw I had a message.

Chosen.

Day #1 of waiting. 

And what's even more incredible is this.  The couple was supposed to look at profiles the day before, but it was too hard, emotionally for them, so they decided to put it off a day.

The day I called the agency.

I share this story to tell you that there's no way I could have planned or plotted such a union:  us with our daughter.   That I never could have anticipated that as we got our paperwork done, we did so just in the right time frame to be shown and selected to adopt our baby.    That it's pretty much a good idea to listen to God when He prompts you to make a call.

My story is just one example of how God has prompted us to make certain decisions throughout our adoption journey.   There was, if you recall, how God moved us to get our paperwork in order for adoption #3.     Or how God turned the pain of my type I diabetes diagnosis into a stirring to consider adopting.  

So what does the future hold for this adoptive family?

My motto:  never say never.

There's no way to know what God has in store, but I know one thing:  we couldn't orchestrate it if we tried.  So I'm just going to wait and see what happens.