It's January 27. So. I guess you could say I freaked out. Two and a half weeks ago, I found out that your mom left the place she was staying and moved into a place that we weren't terribly comfortable with. Infertility, contested adoption, adoption ending in stillbirth. This is my reality. I'm so ridiculously freaked out because THERE ARE THINGS THAT HAVEN'T HAPPENED TO US YET. We've never had a mom decide to parent. We've never had one change her mind and choose someone else. We've never lost track of her halfway through. Not to mention, we could just repeat one of the things we've already done. THERE ARE LOADS OF THINGS THAT COULD HAPPEN AND I'M, APPARENTLY, INSANE.
If you're mine, kid, I'm sorry. Life has completely left me jaded. I promise I'll try to hide my paranoia from you.
So I freaked out and we backed out and I cried and I raged at God. (Really. Which was basically a first for me. Sure, I can handle all the above mentioned stress and still give God the glory but your mom relocating herself just about did me in. I didn't consult the Lord, I just stuffed earbuds in my ears and listened to Adele so that I couldn't hear Him if He tried to talk to me. It was quite the tantrum.) Then I decided to get out of bed and be happy with what He'd already blessed me with. My heart wants you, kid. It's just that my mind is in torment, counting all the terrible ways I could lose you.
But in that moment of making that one choice to back out, I realized how much I already love you. I was devastated. Well, devastated and pissed.
See, I was supposed to get to go with her to an ultrasound two weeks ago. But then she got upset with her living situation and moved and I was angry and backed out and so the ultrasound didn't happen. Last week, after two weeks of thinking we were out and you'd never be ours, we found out that the situation isn't as bad as we originally thought and your mom still wants it to be us. And we do too.
I'm just really scared. Because right now, I can't protect you. I can't do anything to keep you safe or, alive, even. I'm 100% out of control. You're just halfway there, is all. The size of a banana and not viable in the outside world. There's a lot of living for you to do before we could ever hold you. It scares me to death--frankly.
So we're praying right now. For peace from the Lord to move forward. If we move forward and lose you, it'll break our hearts. But if we don't move forward at all, I'll always wonder what if?
In two days, you're officially scheduled to be seen on an ultrasound. So here's the thing, please be healthy. Please be alright and then stay that way. We have a really long wait ahead of us but you don't know that. Just grow. And thrive. And be. And then maybe, if everything lines up just perfectly and our Lord chooses to bless me even though I don't deserve a bit of it, I'll get to meet you in four and a half months.
And you're an act of God's creation so I'm fine with all the doubt. -If/Then Musical