My husband and I tried to get pregnant for over five years. Friends and family kept telling us to relax; that it would happen when we least expected it. I saw five doctors over the five years, and all of them told me I was overreacting and there was nothing wrong, although none of them actually checked me out. Finally, I went to a fertility specialist. Within two weeks, we knew what was wrong. We also knew that pregnancy would never be an option for us.
I can’t even begin to tell you how I felt. I was crushed and absolutely devastated. There was a time when I really thought I wouldn’t survive it emotionally. I cried all the time and all the well-meaning friends and family members who tried to comfort me just made it worse. They honestly didn’t get it. I had never wanted to be anything other than a mother. I was one of those people who was looking forward to being fat, having morning sickness, experiencing the pain of childbirth. I wanted the whole experience. My heart was broken.
We immediately jumped into the adoption process. It was a nightmare. I can see now that we just hadn’t taken the time to grieve and were not ready to move forward. Everywhere we turned we hit a brick wall and we finally just gave up.
After a couple of years, my baby sister got pregnant. She was only 17, and while I was worried for her and wanting to be there to help in any way I could, I was also jealous; not of her situation, but of the fact that I would never get to experience my child growing inside of me. She and I have always been close, even though there is a 12-year age difference and 200 miles between us. During the pregnancy we really got closer, and when Taylor was born, I was there. I coached my sister through delivery and watched her baby come into the world. I spent the weekend in the hospital taking care of them and when I had to leave to return home on Sunday night I cried the entire trip.
For the next five weeks I called them every day. I made her put the phone up to Taylor’s ear so he would become used to my voice, and I went to see them every chance I could. Taylor’s birth changed my life and we decided to start the adoption process again. I realized how important it still was to me to be a mother and I wanted so badly to find a child.
May 11 was a very special day. Not only was it Mother’s Day, but it was also our seventh wedding anniversary. That afternoon I called my sister for our daily chat and she was crying. She told me she just couldn’t be a mother yet … she wasn’t ready … she was just too young to take care of him. We talked for a while and I assured her that she was doing just fine. Taylor was five weeks old, happy, healthy, and doing great. On our third phone call of the day, she told me she wanted us to adopt her son.
We were in shock. The possibility had never even been mentioned before. I told her that she shouldn’t try to make such a decision when she was upset and having a bad day. She needed to think about it carefully. To my surprise, she admitted that she had been thinking about it for months and was sure of her decision. She wanted us to pick him up that day. Thirty minutes later we were in the car and on our way, still in shock.
It was an emotional night to say the least. Our family had gathered at the house by the time we arrived and everyone was in a state of shock and disbelief. We honestly still thought we were just going up to talk to her and help calm her down, but the moment we walked in the door, she handed me my precious nephew and said, “Taylor, this is your new mommy.” I don’t think I have ever been so overwhelmed with emotion before.
It was a long night full of talks and tears. I love my sister and while there was a part of me that wanted to take the baby and run, I didn’t want her to make a decision she couldn’t live with. She was insistent, and eventually left to go to a friend’s house for the night. My parents, my other sister, my husband, and I were up most of the night just trying to take it all in. My sister had been adamant about our taking him home the next day and we eventually decided to do that, but only after having told her that we would understand if she changed her mind.
It was surreal. I wanted to protect my sister, hold her, comfort her, love her. I also wanted to run away with my new son and never give her the opportunity to change her mind. I was already so in love with him, and taking him home with me was a dream come true. In the end, I just let things take their natural course.
My son is now four months old, and while the adoption process isn’t complete, we know he is finally home where he belongs. My sister is very happy being the aunt, and I couldn’t be happier being the mommy.
God loves us so much, even though we can’t always see it. I didn’t believe that for a long time, and I wasted years being angry and unhappy because I couldn’t find it in myself to have faith. I should have known and trusted that God was still in control and wouldn’t abandon me, but I was so blinded by my anger that I couldn’t see. Now I know that the reason it could never happen before was that I was waiting for this child and he couldn’t be born until this time.
To all of you aching to hold your child in your arms, don’t be too impatient (easier said than done, I know). Pray about your situation and seek God’s plan … He does have one. We all know there are thousands of children waiting for a mommy and daddy so don’t give up until you find the child who’s waiting for you. He or she may come from an unexpected place … mine certainly did. Who would ever have guessed that the nine-year-old girl who walked down the aisle as a bridesmaid in our wedding would be the birth mom of our son? Only God.
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