This morning I have spent the last hour and a half reading the adoption blog, fyionrachandry.blogspot.com. Their story of infertility and adoption is one I knew I wanted to read but I have been waiting for some "me time". This morning I got up early, Lucas left for work, and so I sat up on my bed and went to their blog.
We have emailed a few times back and forth, and I had read the more recent entries on her blog, but I have been a little weary of reading her whole story because I knew it would be emotional. So while I had a second I dug into their story and....wow.
Theirs is a story of infertility and heartbreaking almost-adoptions. I tearfully read the stories. My heart went out to them and physically ached as I read of the moments they thought they were chosen, and out of nowhere contact stopped or someone else was picked last minute. My heart broke for them.
Then I read about the young couple that chose them, and how the four parents are all connected through the open adoption and through the shared love of one lucky little boy.
Then, I spent a few minutes just staring at the pictures she posted of the birthparents.
I do not know them at all, but I just stared at them. Then my teary eyes turned into waterfalls and I just cried. They were impossibly beautiful and I just sobbed for them and out of complete respect for and awe of them. I wanted to thank them for healing the hearts of this couple, and comfort them on nights I know their arms, too, feel empty. I could not stop my tears.
There is a picture, just after the birth of Noah, where his birthmom and mom are both holding him together and staring at him. Rachel, the new mom, had tears on her cheeks and Katie, the birthmom had a face full of love and exhaustion. How can someone possibly be so selfless? The words on the blog explaining the moment also made me weep.
Lucas and I get really emotional when we talk about adoption because of thoughts of experiencing this very moment. It is a moment that seems like a faraway dream. This one moment is our greatest desire but it can seem unattainable. But here is an image of a young girl who is placing her baby in the arms of another woman, making her a mother. It is possible. It is also a moment full of intense joy and intense sorrow. It is beautiful and painful, but mostly it is sacred.
It is conflicting to "look forward" to a moment where my joy will come simultaneously with others' sorrow. When they will give me a gift that their heart will ache for.
I'm so glad I read that today and saw those pictures. It gives me hope, yes. However, more than anything I felt it gave me more understanding of everyone involved. Also, I feel more anticipation for a moment I hope we will one day all have in common.
One day I hope to be able to have such a beautiful adoption story, too.