the first baby

There was a baby before Tedy.

You probably didn't know that, huh?
Actually, only two other people besides Nathan and I know that story: my best friend and our social worker.

Late February of last year I was sitting at my desk, scrolling through my e-mails, killing the last 5 minutes before we could lock up when something caught my eye.

It was from our adoption agency. Opening the letter, I saw that it was about the possibility of a baby. The mother was facing a lot of hard things and her tiny unborn baby was in the midst of a big fight. Scanning the e-mail my heart jumped, then sank. The baby was sick. They knew that the baby had been exposed to almost daily alcohol and meth abuse for the majority of the pregnancy. Now the mother was in rehab, clean, and getting sober and considering her parenting options.  But they knew that when the baby was came, no matter what the parenting plan, there would be problems: NICU for sure, possibly surgery, probably life-long consequences. Then the question: would we still like to be considered?

I don't remember the drive home that night. I don't even remember how the conversation with my husband went. My heart and my mind were way ahead...laying out my fears and playing out the worst case scenarios. How could we afford a special needs baby? Could I physically handle caring for a child with physical limitations in light of my own? Would we have the support? How would our relationship change with the stress?

I only remember Nathan's answer: "Tell her yes."
"Really?" I doubted, "You sure you know what we're potentially signing up for."
"Yes." came the matter-of-fact reply. "Our child." silence. "It's time we started thinking about what we have to offer this baby instead of what a baby can offer us."

I was a mess. For the rest of the night and into the morning after, God was doing some rending in my heart. Letting go of my selfish expectations, eradicating doubts, laying me low. On the drive to work the next morning, I called my best friend and told her the situation. Her response was what it usually is: prayer. Again, I don't remember her specific words, I just know how God used them to move my heart from fear, to compassion, to care for this precious, sick baby.

When I got to work, I send this e-mail to our agency:
"We're in."



We heard nothing.
Then a few days later came another e-mail. This one stated that they had lost contact with the mother. She stopped answering their phone calls and texts. Stopped rehab. I don't know if they ever caught up with her. If they ever got to give her the support and love we had been hoping she would receive.

I don't know because exactly 20 days later we got a call. One year ago from tonight. Another mother. Another baby. And eventually OUR baby. Our precious son.

God would have given us the strength, peace, and resources if that first baby had come into our family. I know. His provision doesn't always look the way we think it will, though.

I also know that when we go up to the mountain trusting that God will provide;
there is always a sacrifice.
When we are willing to let God show us how He can move,
there is always a ram in the bushes.

Comments

Amy said…
wow. beautiful as usual.
I forgot about this, but it sounds like I am very wise.