Labor Pains

Adoption can be a funny thing. Like in those moments when I meet someone who hasn't seen me in a few weeks or months and suddenly there I am with a baby in my arms. I rather enjoy watching this "look" that comes over the person's face as they try to put two and two together. You can see the questions racing through their minds... "Have I really not seen her in nine months? If that is true, her figure sure looks good for having carried a developing child." I laugh every time. But often there is another look that follows when I mention that we adopted. A kind of deer in the headlights expression. I've never asked why and I am sure there are plenty of answers out there. For others, though, it is an overjoyed pleasure to finally meet the child who was long hoped for and dreamed of.

Infertility knocked us for a loop. Couples start off with this innocent "it could never happen to us" mentality and then weeks turn to months, months to years, and years to... despair. The walls that go up around the heart are both painful and necessary. Now that I can let down those walls it is taking much more work than it did to construct them in the first place. I've lost the ability to dream innocently. The reality that nothing is a certainty is blatantly real. My faith struggles more than it ever did... my hope is overshadowed often by doubts... my dreams are kept detached so that no emotion is actually associated with them. Facts have settled in where once frivolous ideals once roamed freely with encouragement.

I may never know what it is like to get pregnant and feel a life grow within me. I may never be able to see my Husband's eyes or my dimples in our biological child's face. There are up-sides though. I may never have stretch marks. I may never have to know what giving birth is like. But labor I have known, if not in the literal sense. Instead of a number of hours of physical pain as a child enters into the world, my pains have lasted five and a half years. First there was the "hmmm, something is happening" thought. And then with every test, every treatment, every prayer, and every disappointment the pains grew until they were nearly unbearable. It grew harder and harder not to cry, scream, and lash out in agony. Finally I begged for the emotional epidural. That came in the form of a mental box in which all experiences and emotions were locked into and then buried deep, deep within me. I had the knowledge of what was happening but the pain was kept at bay so that I could function once again.

That box may always exist and, unless truly necessary, will be kept locked. Adoption hasn't removed those pains but I have to admit that it has taken my focus away from them. Most days now, even though I am only a couple months in, I forget all about the box. My joy has been regained in a beautiful baby boy that came into my life in a most unexpected way. I may not have gotten my dreams in the form I had hoped for but I got them just the same. I still battle momentary hurts from time to time when news around me catches me off guard. I feel guilty for that. I blame it on years of practice. I hope they too, like the box, are one day forgotten to the dust of time.

A dear friend of mine asked if I would be changing the name of this blog. I had intended to keep it since infertility is still my burden to bear. As I thought more about it though I have to agree that the time has come to make some changes. Upon my next entry I will officially change the name to (drum role please) "Love, Marriage... Adopting the Baby Carriage." A new adventure is before me and one that I will embrace as much as I can.

Thank you Lord for this blessed opportunity!