Sunday, September 18, 2016
The First Onesie
The day I made my choice was the day I attended an informational meeting about domestic adoption. There were several woman running the meeting. Each woman had a different job within the agency and their passion for this process was clear. As they spoke I could tell how much they loved and protected the birth moms, but also how they would advocate for me, the adoptive parent. It was plain to see that they were kind and caring and would do what was best for everyone involved.
One woman even came looking for me after the meeting. She remembered speaking to me on the phone and knew I would be at the meeting. She remembered so much about the conversation we had weeks earlier. I was already sold on the agency after hearing all of the information at the meeting, but that small gesture of being remembered solidified my choice.
In a process this complicated, (along with finances and logistics and everything else to consider) comfort is hugely important. There are many agencies that I could have chosen, but this is where I'm comfortable and I didn't make this choice lightly. I know God brought me to this agency.
I strolled the baby aisles looking for something neutral and simple. When I picked this little striped onesie, I held it in my hands before putting it in the cart. I'm not one to be overly sentimental, but as I stood there holding this soft onesie I pictured my baby. I pictured meeting them for the first time and holding them in my arms. And for the first time, it all felt so real that I almost started crying right there in Target.
In a process full of unknowns, purchasing a small onesie was a huge emotional risk for me. Logic starts to tell you that this may never happen and you may have to pack this away unused. Logic says don't get your hopes too high because you might never be picked. Logic says to hold back and be safe. Pardon my french, but screw logic.
This baby is real. This love is real. I'm all in.
And I'm going to keep taking steps to claim this baby and this adoption. Like packing the hospital bag and buying some bottles. There are still some steps that I'm building up to - that feel bigger and harder than the rest. I'm learning to take this one step at a time and know what I'm ready for. But I'm circling the walls of Jericho. I'm moving forward without knowing all of the ways God will provide. I'm leaping.
And someday, I'm going to bring my baby home in this striped onesie that I bought before I even knew them. And I'm going to keep it forever... unless they puke all over it.