Possible Nibble

Got a call from the attorney's office today. There is a mother who is due in April who is looking to put her child up for adoption. We don't know a lot about her. We know she's going to be having a girl and that she's coming from a biracial relationship. The biological mother hails (originally) from Kentucky but now lives here in Tennessee. The mother is interested in being able to visit her child once a year. The attorney's office called to ask if we were comfortable with that.

I never realized how strong the word "comfortable" is. Because to describe the idea of getting together, once a year, with a woman we don't know but gave birth to the child we now call "daughter" is just about the furthest thing from comfortable that I can think of. As soon as the question was asked, fears of the mother falling back in love with her child sprang to mind.

"There's no guarantee that the mother will follow up on this request," our attorney said, as if reading my mind.

"Comfortable is such a strong word," I said and she laughed.

But this process has never been about comfort. It's uncomfortable to admit to your spouse that you don't know why you're not getting pregnant. The word infertility is an awful, awful word to ever say out loud (maybe only trumped by hearing it). It's not comfortable telling your friends and family that you're considering adoption. It's not comfortable browsing for books on adoption. The only part of this process that is comforting is knowing that we are opening our hearts and our home to a child that needs us. And that thought leads to the comfort of knowing that God is with us on this and He has a long history of adoption and will help us through this -- including leading the right child into our home.

"Do it," I said. "Send her our letter."

She might not like us. She might take one look at our book and say, "they're not raising my child!" She might choose someone else -- someone who reminds her of her family or someone with slightly similar ideals and aspirations or someone richer. Or she might meet us and go, "those two people are the most opinionated people I have ever met. No. Way."

But that's her choice to make. I'm not going to take that choice away from her because of one uncomfortable detail. Many of these uncomfortable things have already gone away and many more of them will go away once we're on the other side of this. Either way, I haven't seen my comfort zone in about two years and I'm not making any plans to ever return there.

So that's where we're at right now. It's not quite a nibble, but it's a potential nibble. We'll see if she bites and then we'll go from there.

Don't pray that she chooses us. Pray that she makes the right decision and that her child winds up in the right home. Pray that the right child finds our home. I would love it if this was the one, because that would make this process so much quicker and easier than any of the books led us to believe it would be. But I'm more concerned for the child. I want her to find the right fit more than I want her placed in my home. But, if you're not, please pray for us. We'd really appreciate it. And if you already are, thank-you.