The Waiting Game

As many of you know, we're in the process of trying to adopt a little boy.  We've jumped through all the hoops, taken all the classes, transformed our house to meet all their regulations, and are now just waiting.

And waiting.

....and waiting.

Can I be honest for a moment?

It's hard.  So very hard.  This waiting and waiting and waiting for a phone call.

We've been open for almost 5 months now.  We've received exactly zero calls.

This past week, we received an e-mail, asking if we'd be interested in a 5 year old little boy needing a home.  My initial response was "No.  We specified under 2."  And then I would think "But he deserves a home too."  And then back to "But he has this, that, and the other going on.  Be reasonable.  That's more than you can take on with already having 3 kids.  He needs more than you can give."  "Oh, but I would love him".  "Stop it, Phoebe.  You said under 2 for a reason."

And so I sent the reply, declining this sweet 5 year old little boy.

It was horrible.  Heartbreaking.

I look into the eyes of Eli and suddenly he's a 5 year old child needing parents who will love him, never mind that he's 7 and already has parents that love him.  He's now every 5 year old little boy needing a second chance... and it's so very hard.

I know God has a plan for us in and through all the waiting.

But friends, it's excruciating.  And I don't know how to explain this or put it in to words, so if I'm just rambling on, please bare with me.  But I know he's out there.  He's being carried inside his birth mom's womb, or he's already born - living in a situation that none of us would wish upon our children, or he's in foster care - learning to love and bond with another woman that will be devastating for him to leave.... and I just want him home with us.

I know that may not make sense - given we don't know him yet.  We don't know if he'll be days old, months old, or approaching 2.  We don't know if he'll be white, black, bi-racial, Hispanic.  We don't know anything other than our longing to have him home.

And so when I see pictures of other adoptive parents getting the call and holding their new baby, it hurts.  Not because I'm not happy for them, but because somewhere, some place, our son is waiting just as we are.  Because I'm tired of waiting and long to meet him, to hold him, to call him mine, and it just hurts, friends.

I do not presume that it will be easy once we get the call.  We'll all have to adjust, particularly Emi - who doesn't like for mommy to hold anyone else.  But I know this and suspect that when that time comes, I'll be blogging through that process as well.

So, when you ask where we are in the process and we say "still waiting" - know that what we really mean is "The waiting is so very hard."

When it's our turn to share prayer requests and we say "Us as we wait for the call" - know that what we mean is our patience and endurance through this journey - that we could trust His timing and plan - that we're asking you to pray for our son, even though none of us yet know who he'll be.  It's not a trite request - it's a small snippet of what we're experiencing as we play the waiting game.

And to our son - wherever you are - know that as we wait, we pray for you every single day.  I can't even get through this sentence without the tears flowing because we're so ready to meet you.  We have such hopes and dreams for you.  Daddy's already picked out your stuffed animal for you - just as he did for your brother and sisters.  We've already bought you some pajamas and the cutest little toboggan in that animals print.  We bought them bigger to make sure they'd fit.  We took Christmas pictures with an empty rocking chair so when you get here you'll know you were always on the forefront of our minds - that we were waiting and preparing for your arrival - for the day we'd get the call to bring you home and have you in our arms.

You are loved.

You are prayed over.

You are worth the wait.