Last Saturday evening a baby girl was born.
Phone call came Sunday morning that she needed a home.
Brand new baby girl, 6lbs, healthy, and just two fast hours away.
I tried to guard my heart. I’ve heard all the stories. I couldn’t.
My maternal instincts kicked in. I wanted her safe. My husband kept saying she needs love and she needs it now. We wanted her home.
We tidied up the nursery and for the first time ever, I packed a diaper bag.
Sunday we rejoiced. A baby, finally, after all these years. I drove my husband to the airport that day for four days of training in Atlanta. In this situation, things would take a few days, so we were sure by the time he made it back on Thursday, all the arrangements would have been made and we would be ready to go and pick her up.
Monday I made arrangements at work. They hugged me, cried, and celebrated my leave.
Tuesday things started to become muddy. Details were confusing. Stories were changing. The words “red flags” were uttered by my adoption agency. It began to fall apart.
By Wednesday it was over.
Then there was the silence. Silence so loud it’s deafening. I simply did not know how I would sleep through that night or get up for work the next day. By God’s grace and the loving support of my family, I made it through to the next day, and the next day, and by God’s grace I will make it through today.
For reasons I will not disclose here out of respect for the birth family, the birth mother was not reachable. Her family, us, and our adoption specialists could not talk to her, and as far as I know, still no one has. Without communication, we could not move forward.
The baby girl could be in the custody of family or she could be in foster care. I’m not really sure.
All I know is I thought she was mine.
This is a common story in the adoption process and before it happened to us we would say “If a baby doesn’t end up with us, we know that wasn’t our baby.” We would say that. We have said that since. I can tell you, even though we do believe that, it doesn’t make the pain go away. It doesn’t cover the wound.
Here’s the good news- God is in control. I FIRMLY believe that our God- The Creator of the Universe- will move Heaven and Earth to put Baby Q. in our arms. I know He would not allow our baby to simply slip away from us. I know that what we see as a missed opportunity to finally become a family, He sees as a way of protecting us from something out of our control.
God tells us He goes before us. One of my dear friends who has gone through this very thing before described it like this: It’s like a baby crying her eyes out in the car seat, but you can’t take her out of the car seat until you’re home because it isn’t safe. She doesn’t understand why you can’t just take her out, because she doesn’t see the danger. But it’s not your job to try and make a baby understand, it’s your job as a parent to keep her safe.
God has me buckled in safe and secure in this life. He is my Father and my Father is not about to let me wander into to something that isn’t His BEST. In fact, He keeps telling me through His Word that he wants better for me than my human brain can ever imagine.
So I will trust what He says. I will ask Him for patience and strength as we begin the wait again. I will lean on the prayers going up to Heaven from the hundreds of people He has given to support us throughout this journey. I will fight back the enemy when he places doubt and fear in my way. I will raise my faith sword to the sky and I will battle on.
It hurts, Dad, but I will stay buckled in until you get me home.
No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us. And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.