Blessed indeed

Years ago I was pregnant at the same time that one of my friends was adopting internationally. Naturally, I made some mental comparisons about our two separate routes into motherhood.

I suffered morning sickness, heartburn, stretch marks, and fatigue. My son became a champion kick boxer inside my uterus. By the eighth month I lost sight of my toes. (This was a actually good thing, since my ankles were roughly the size of watermelons.) And the labor...well, let's just skip that part and agree that it wasn't umm, comfy.

My friend's baby was already half a year old, so she was going to bypass the newborn stage completely. No sleepless newborn nights, no baby weight to lose, she received reports and photos of her son-to-be, and then took a trip halfway around the world with her husband. I thought it appeared to be pretty fun and - here's the crazy part - easy. What a great way to become a parent!

Goodness. I was clueless.

Along with the adoption perks that stuck out to me, my friend also handled the scrutiny of social workers and agencies, endured the agonizing wait while not knowing if her baby was cared for or fed, overcame intense jet lag, ate strange food, communicated in a foreign language, and suffered a hellishly long flight home. I don't think she slept through the night for at least a year. Also, she missed out on knowing her baby from conception, feeling his sweet kicks, and experiencing his first months of life. Oh. And she also met some new acquaintances named Parasite, Lice and Scabies.

Somehow I'd sorta missed those not-so-fun details.

Of course it's obvious that pregnancy and adoption can BOTH be incredibly difficult, painful, exhilarating, terrifying, and joyous. Just in different ways.

I truly wish I could go back and offer more grace and support to my adoptive friend during that part of her journey. I'm lucky to still have her as one of my dear friends, and thankful that she seems to have forgiven me for my (let's be real here, extreme) ignorance.

Another great thing? I have an incredible group of friends who "get it" a lot more than I did back then. They've supported us at every stage of our adoption process. They've cried, screamed, and rejoiced along with us. They've asked about our daughter by name and remembered stories and details that we've shared about her. They've lent us baby equipment and made sure that we could get our house clean before we depart. They've put together a meal rotation so that grandma-who-is-taking-care-of-our-boys-for-seventeen-days-and-is-therefore-elevated-to-saint-status can have a few nights off from preparing dinners during our absence.

Even more?? Some of them were able to get together to throw a "blessings shower" for me the other night. They each shared words of wisdom, scripture, and prayers for our family. They prepared adorable (and yummy!) snacks. And we sang together. Not an awkward, now-let's-sing-kumbaya-in-a-round-moment, but a beautiful lifting of voices in praise and thanksgiving.

I wanted to somehow bottle up all of the goodness and keep it handy for when this journey gets rough. I tried to force my brain to remember it all, as I worried that I would forget their good wishes and words of truth.

Then one of the women reminded me of something special.

She told me that our family is not alone. We won't be alone in China. We won't be alone when we come home. Even on the darkest nights or sunniest days, we won't be alone. I can't think of a more reassuring sentiment.

I certainly don't deserve it. But our family has been blessed indeed.

(And, would you believe it, the photographer forgot to take a single photo. Oops.)