We talked about adoption almost from the get-go. Attended seminars, both phone and in-person. Called social workers, agencies. Even sent non-refundable deposits.
But I couldn't do it. I had a hang-up. A very shallow, immature - perhaps understandable? - hang-up.
I wanted it to be special.
I remember where we were - in the car, heading to adoration - when I finally gave in and said aloud why I had been putting the breaks on adoption. My previous silence was proof even I knew I was nuts.
It came out sounding just like I knew it would. Silly. Shallow. But honest.
Through tears I said how I hated the thought of signing with an agency and getting a baby after a year or two wait. I will feel like we chose for it to happen. I wanted God to write our story. I wanted Him to give us a baby.
It was the last hurdle between us and adoption (and, no doubt, rooted in the realization that I would likely never conceive). It needed to be said. I said it, I heard myself say it in all its craziness (what did I want? A baby left on my doorstep?), Ryan told me why that was silly, and why it would all be okay. And it was. We started the process to adopt through an agency shortly after.
And what does God do?
He takes bratty old me and actually answers that shallow prayer.
He gave me two insane adoption stories, a pregnancy mixed in for good measure, and three beautiful babes, three and under.
He took my hang-up, helped me work through it, waited as I came around and realized the beauty of adopting - through an agency or however - and then BAM! Gives me what I had originally hoped for. And not once, but twice.
I'm humbled. It's embarrassing knowing how I used to feel and how God not only forgave me for it, but actually granted that immature wish.
I don't deserve it. I don't understand it. But I have to believe it has to do with Him being Love.
And every day, I'm completely amazed.