Author's Note: My thoughts are fragmented tonight resulting in a post that doesn't seem to have any unity. I'm okay with that, though...I guess I just needed to get some stuff off my chest.
An old friend of mine from high school emailed me today. I haven't heard from her in quite awhile, but she wanted to check in to let me know that she's fervently praying for our adoption process. I'm not going to lie, it was nice to hear it. I'm a little surprised I'm even typing this because for some reason lately, people have been catching me all over town, in school, at XC meets, etc. and have asked about our adoption progress. I know people mean well, but it's awkward when this happens because we have nothing to tell. But for some reason, the email I received today didn't bother me. Maybe it's because it was from an old friend who, at one time, also struggled with trying to conceive. But I think the reason it didn't bother me is she wasn't asking for any information or updates. She was simply emailing to let me know that she has been praying for us....
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I haven't thought about our adoption too much. I pray for the process just about every day, but it's been awhile since I've sat down and really thought about it. But last night as I was laying next to my husband, my mind drifted to the subject I've pushed out of my mind for the last three months. I wondered if at that moment any birth moms were reading over profile letters grappling with their decision. And the thought broke my heart. I cannot imagine how difficult of a decision it would be to make an adoption plan for a child...******
My throat is tightening as I grit my teeth and bite my bottom lip in an unsuccessful attempt to fight back tears. I've missed rejoicing with my best friend as she welcomed her first baby into the world this last summer. My relationship with my other best friend pretty much fell off the face of the earth with the announcement of her pregnancy nearly nine months ago. My house feels empty and quiet--the spot in our kitchen where I planned to place a high chair is now a resting place for dirty towels waiting to be taken to the laundry room. As the holidays approach and we make plans to visit family, I grow nervous thinking about meeting my cousin's new beautiful baby boy and the emotional response I might have to it all. I am still deeply affected by our infertility and tonight it's catching up with me, catching me off guard.
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