Today a little girl with no name (yet) was born. She weighs six pounds nine ounces. Her teenaged mother met the prospective adopting parents this evening, and things are underway.
It’s a strange thing to walk into a hospital and not have those excited, anticipating feelings. I have had the pleasure of going to the same hospital for our first two children (before having the final two at a mid-wive’s office) and maybe going to close to over two dozen other births through these same doors (God has blessed us with some fertile friends!) Each time we’d be so excited, walking with presents in hand, and talking non-stop until we got to the room to see the little bundle of joy and the nearly equally excited parents. Pictures were taken, hugs were shared, the baby was held.
But, this trip through those same doors was much different. The normally happy occasion has been replaced with the grave sense of sadness. Sadness because the reality is setting in that this little life that would normally have become a part of our extended family is now going to someone we don’t know and we will never know. We will have no part in this child’s life. And we can only trust God with this little nameless girl’s outcome. We’ll pray every day for her. What else can we do?
As I made it to the room full of my wife, her sister, her mother, and the new mother there was no baby in the room. No excitement. No pictures. While there were still hugs, but the excited talk was replaced by “matter of fact” talk about how “things” went with the delivery. I guess that’s just the way it’s supposed to be.
Having been on the “other side of the spectrum” some time ago, we can all to easily relate with the parents that are finally able to adopt this precious little girl. Nearly a decade ago now, we were told that we were probably not going to be able to have kids on our own, and we were devastated. Once the devastation wore off to a manageable level, we decided that we ought to look into adoption, if that was going to be the way that God was going to bless us with children. And so we did. We were set to start taking the necessary classes when Dawn shared some most excellent news with me… and the rest is history, as they say.
But, being able to relate to one side doesn’t make the other side any more bearable. If statistics hold true, this family that’s having their dreams come true by finally adopting this nameless little girl, will be divorced after seven years of marriage. If this is the casse, this little baby girl will most likely be raised by a single mom, leaving her all the time in the world to explore her surroundings and to fill that empty God-shaped void in her soul with the world.
Hear me, little one – there is a family that is praying for you every day. As Caleb said today, “We can pray at breakfast, lunch and dinner. Oh! And even on the way to church!”
We’re looking to the One that is able to do far more abundantly than we could ever ask or imagine, and He is faithful.