After walking that long, devoid road of infertility, we chose a different path.  The new path of adoption was still full of unknowns, but perhaps a little less barren.  Along the way - I had cried out to God.  In the beginning, I had cried and sobbed for a child.  For a baby to grow in my body... a child that would have Cory's blue eyes and freckles, maybe with hair the color of mine.

Then, the Comforter worked in my heart.  He pried my clenched fingers open in order to release those desires...  He didn't need to replace them with a passion to adopt - that was already there.  But, I was shoving that desire down, because a biological child was first on my priority list.  When it became apparent that no child would be coming from this body, I grieved.

I mourned for what we would never have... for what I would never experience.  And yet, there was hope in adoption.  We moved slowly through the home study - through loads of paperwork and red tape and meetings and money raising.  Crawling along, we worked through emotions and biases.  In our hearts grew a knowledge and passion for birthmoms.  My heart broke the more I read and watched and observed of birthmothers who place their children with another family.  I grieved for them and for me.  This journey wasn't all about me and Cory anymore.  Our sorrow would be shared with another.  Different sorrows, but the same.  Yet, ours would be comforted.

Finally, we hit the homestretch.  Matched!  A mom chose us to raise her little girl.  We met and talked and chose names.  Baby showers - Check.  Diapers stocked - Check.  Parenting books read - Check.

And then, 2 pink lines.  Four years I had waited for that second pink line.  Four years of tears and hope and tests and hormone-crazed cycles and ...  Now, when all that is done.  When my heart has moved on.  When a another woman is counting on us.

But, we were still willing and wanting to bring our baby girl home - to see this adoption through.  So, we told the woman, but still hurried to finish the nursery and find a pediatrician and ...  The baby came early, September 13th.  And the woman held her little girl and her family gathered around.  And they decided to parent.  And a part of me grieved, while another part rejoiced that this family would be able to stay together.

So, now our adoption plan is on hold.  We are busy with doctor appointments and heartburn and kick counts...  Only 4 more months until this little girl makes her debut.  So while there are still days when emotions run haywire inside my heart...  I can look back and see God moving in me.  Changing my heart and head.  Rooting out judgemental, insensitive beliefs and words.  Giving me eyes that truly see people - not their angry words or mean actions - but their hurt and loneliness underneath.

I wouldn't have chosen this path, but I wouldn't trade it.  Because of the hurt and fear and loss, I am a different person.  I am better and stronger and I look more like Him.  And I wouldn't trade it.

So, I have learned about true gratitude.  I have learned how to cry out to God for my needs and wants, but to say - If You have a different plan, then I'm thankful for what You are doing.  I might not like it all and I might cry and feel pain.  But, I know, I'd rather Your plan than mine.              


Anonymous said...

Shanna, that is an amazing documentary of what you've gone through the past many months. I was not aware of your entire journey, thank you so much for sharing! You are an amazing woman and I'm so glad to call you my sister in Christ!!

Rosie Cochran said...

Thanks for sharing your heart, Shanna. It's a testimony to what God does in our lives -- which is amazing!

Stacy Mariano said...

Tears were running down my face as I read, Shanna. God has given you such a gift with words. Thanks so much for being so vulnerable and so transparent. I am blessed to call you friend and am so excited to be part of the "family" that will welcome your little girl in a few short months. God is so good and His plans for us are PERFECT.

Can't wait to read more blogs in the future