It took the two of us to make our babies . . . . Just a whole lot of love, some passion and a heart-yes to the potential for new life.
From there it became mostly my work – my body swelling and my stomach rebelling against any and every food I could think of. It was my skin that was pricked for all the blood tests and my urine that was tested. I read and read and read as I tried to understand how something so very small could already be turning my whole life upside down. But she was. And later he did too. I was the one who tore open with their heads slipping out and I was the one who who walked, limping from the pain. And when they were born it was just more and crazier of the same. Warm sweet milk flowing from my body – how did THAT happen?! And more changing size and shape. Having to eat for two and not eat what number 1 and two didn’t want in their milk. They were permanent attachments to my body during their first year. I nursed for almost six years straight. And I still haven’t regained my original shape.
They were so worth it. Worth every bit of the blood and the agony and the tears – yes, really.
Now we are trying for number three. And this time we are again, making our baby together. There’s still so much love and a whole lot of passion and a yes, to new life. It just looks a little different. There wasn’t an evening in bed, instead there have been visions and dreams and a heart-ache too great not to follow.
And this time, my strong husband takes the lead. His gift of administration trumping my willingness. He fills out form and form and writes email after email and we answer the phone and say yes, and maybe, and we’ll think about it, to all the potentials of our future. He sends in tax forms and notarizes background clearances and we prepare for this child who will turn our lives upside down just as before, just as sweetly. This time my husband changes shape, his heart opening wide and clear and full for this new life he was never sure he wanted, till now. This time he carries the baby in a way that I can not yet and my heart is full with both the joy and the sorrow of adoption.
God is making our calling clear.
And it’s just like the early days of a pregnancy. So surreal it’s hard to believe it might be true. So little evidence that we wonder if this will really happen. And just like the nausea of early pregnancy there is the overwhelm of yet another form, yet another fee, yet another delay. But our hearts drive us on. And each time I sign my name again, fill a form again . . . each time I heave a big sigh with another effort, I whisper it, soft, clear, true: ” I love you, little one.” For you, sweet child, any price, any effort. You are so worth it all. We are so grateful you were born to be ours.