Death of a Dream
I have always assumed that there would be one more. That we had one more child coming our way. Always. Why not?
I remember the day that we left the hospital with our 3rd baby and we took the always exciting family photo outside of the hospital before we headed home as a family of 5 for the very first time. I posted that picture and said ” A family complete headed home” and I felt like a liar.
Even then, that day, posting that picture I wrote what I wanted to feel true, not what was true. What was true is that I felt like we weren’t complete. I felt like I wanted one more child, even when my son was 3 days old and my body was sweating, hurting and leaking like it does after you deliver a child, I felt like I wanted to do it all again. One more time. I felt like we had one more child to raise.
After a short while it was no longer an option for us to carry any more kids. Part purposeful decision and part realities of how excruciatingly painful it was to have my pubic bone split for much of my third pregnancy.
Yada, yada, yada and 4 years and a boatload of prayer and pleadings later, we were on the road to adoption. My dream of one more child was still alive and well and on its way. I was so excited and scared. But it was coming, he was coming to us.
But alas, I’m here again. Here again posting the perverbial family picture saying outloud “A family complete” because this time I need it to be true.
My dream has died. My vision is over. Its been almost a month now since we had the conversations that changed our course and sent me into a months worth of silent, private grieving.
From day one, my honest and sincere prayer to God has been ” God, if adoption is not the absolute best that you have for my family them slam the doors closed so that we can’t pry them open”.
That door has slammed. Rattling the windows of my soul.
The loss of a child is real. But, I need speak more to that grief another day.
For today, I sit with my sadness and rest assured, that Gods vision for my life and my family is alive and well! It doesn’t look like what I was expecting, planning for, confident in… but God doesn’t not sugar coat the fact that ‘his ways our not our ways’.
I have yet to reconcile the why’s and how’s and why not’s. However, I will trust in the Lord will all of my heart, mind and soul. My grief is not lost on him. He hears me, he sees me and now that I’ve begun to open my hurt heart back up to Him, he comforts me too.
I am reminded, that you may be reminded, that in this world of ours it always takes a death to bring life. It takes the flowers dying and the leaves falling in the fall, it takes the failures and missed marks to grow your fortitude and realize your true dream, it takes Jesus to die on the cross so that we may live.
For some reason, in some way that I don’t yet understand, Gods purpose for my life takes this death of this dream with all of its gritty heartaches and sobbing myself to sleeps to bring forth new life… somewhere. Somehow. Stay tuned. ( for maybe the next 23 years because who knows how long this will take me to sort this sucker out!)