Could this work?

December will mark exactly 3 years since we started trying to grow our family.  That’s 3 years of anticipation, 3 years of anxious excitement, 3 years of disappointment, 3 years of grief.  There have been plenty of positive times, times when I really thought this was going to happen for us.  But each time it didn’t.  We just past the 1 year mark since we started working towards adoption.  We are still just a family of two.

We are currently talking to prospective birthmom #3 (M), and things have been progressing smoothly. But I’ve had a hard time mustering the excitement I would have felt in this same situation a few years ago.  Repetitive failure has taught me that chances are that this will end the same as everything else has.

This past weekend we hopped a plane to visit M and get to know her face to face.  We hit it off, spending plenty of time developing a solid relationship.  I was impressed by her strength, blown away by her confidence, and in awe of her poise.  We talked over lunch about the weather, open adoption, her family, our family, her plans for the birth, and our mutual love for fresh tomatoes.

On day 2 she took us to the hospital where she plans to deliver.  As we walked the halls and listened to the nurse talk about what she can expect I started to imagine her in a gown, laying on a gurney, bringing a child into the world.  It wasn’t until we were on route home that it hit me.  I can imagine D and I right there with her.  All the plans we’ve discussed, the scenarios I’ve run over in my head that feel like a lost dream, suddenly I can see them actually happening. For the first time in a long time, I can picture our baby coming into our lives!

The entire ride home I pictured that, in just a few months, I could be traveling this exact path with a baby in my arms.  From the pre-boarding announcement, to the gate check area full of strollers, to the cry of a baby in the back of the plane.  Then our plane touched down. As we rode the familiar streets towards home I could feel reality envelop my excitement.  We were once again walking through our front door with empty arms.  But as I walked down the hall towards my bed that night I paused for an extra moment at the door to the little grey room and felt something I haven’t felt in a while — HOPE!

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