I’m in a fog. I am swimming in feelings. We got THE call today. We have been selected by a prospective birthmother. We will all meet tomorrow to ensure it’s a match. It feels surreal to even write this.
This weekend we spent time with both sides of our family. We discussed our sadness that our child would not be close in age with all the other littles. We told ourselves we needed to mentally prepare to wait at least another year. Hubby is booked to leave for a five week trip to South America in three days. THE call came when we least expected it, just as everyone said it would.
The birthmother seems perfect. She is beyond anything we could have hoped for. In describing herself, she used every adjective I use to describe me. My heart aches for her already and the weeks and months ahead of her. I want to wrap her in my arms. I want to be excited at the prospect of my family’s future while honoring the grief that awaits her. I’m overwhelmed by her courage and her grace in pursuing adoption. I’m terrified she may not like us in real life. Feelings!!
Little one… if you are meant to be ours, please know we have dreamed of you and planned for you for five long years. We have cried, and hoped, and begged, and loved in anticipation. There is no greater gift than you and I promise to be the very best mother I can be.
You need to bake for six more weeks and I need to be realistic that you might not be meant for us. I will trust in whatever this universe has in store for you and for me and hope that our stories join together.