We are down to less than a month before our due date. And our birth mom (B) has historically given birth early (yes, she has children) so we’re really in the final final count down.

I’ve just realized that through this whole process, I have been emotionally “holding my breath”. It’s been a very long journey to get to this point – the closest I have ever been to being a mom. Yes, I have my amazing stepson, whom I love and adore, but it was part time at best. I never got to miss sleep because he was hungry every 3 hours, or hold him while he cried and rock him to sleep, or walk him into his kindergarten class (and then go cry in the hallway), or kiss his boo boos when he fell off of his bike…and so on and so on.

So when my husband & I struggled with infertility more than a few years ago, I thought I had reconciled that I would never be a mom. And then this.

 

Adoption was laid on my heart – and we pursued the option. The paperwork seemed to take forever, but we were matched with a birth mom within about six months following approval – and have walked hand in hand with her to get to the delivery. But the hand in hand is relative. B is in Florida. We are in Texas. It’s been an interesting lack of control to experience. Even though we talk & text a couple of times a week, I don’t know when all of her doctor’s appointments are or exactly what the doctor says. Not fully, anyway. We ask, and she says everything is fine. She’ll sometimes tell us how much the baby weighs. But it’s not like being in the doctor’s office myself. I still don’t know the results of the blood-work that was done a couple of weeks ago. B hasn’t gotten the results. And this is where I cannot push or call the doctor’s office or anything, as if it were my own blood-work.

I cannot control what she eats. I know that her diet goes against everything I would consume if I were carrying the baby. But hey, it’s food, right? And B isn’t abusing substances, so why should I worry? I’m not really worrying. I’m just not breathing.

When I’m holding my breath and trying to control my feelings, I must remember that this baby was chosen for my husband and I long before we even met and fell in love. This baby has been under God’s sovereign control as she develops in B’s womb and she is developing perfectly for what God has planned for us all.

And my heart aches for B and her giving us her baby. I mean holy crap, that is so heart-wrenching and heartwarming all at once, isn’t it? But then I stop feeling – and stop breathing – and instead, start mapping out our packing list, lining up care for the dogs, unpacking and organizing the nursery (who knew kids needed so much gear?!), sending thank you cards, and trying to nail down a time to drive to Florida so we aren’t there DAYS before (or after!) the baby delivers. B’s doctor will only induce her 2-3 days prior to her due date. So big whoopity do because she’s already going to be early. I mean, how can you plan this many moving parts?!

I know mother’s everywhere probably feel something similar as they come to the very end of the pregnancy term. And I’m certainly not complaining. I just today realized that I need to just breathe and trust God. That this baby will be born healthy. That our trip to Florida will be timed exactly as it needs to be. That my business won’t shrivel up and die in the time I’m out. That my dogs will be fine if we are gone for 10 or 30 days. That our sweet B will be okay after the adoption.