Oh my sweet baby E. I can hardly believe it's been a year since we first learned of the possibility of you. I was not in a good place when all that happened. We'd been waiting nearly a year and a half - and it was not a wait I had expected at all. I was feeling like you would never come. I couldn't understand why things were taking so long. And I had lost much faith. And hope. Yeah, I had almost given up hope completely. The thought that we would only be a family of three was making me sad. The thought that the kid would never get to be a big brother was impossibly sad. The thought of never cuddling my own sweet baby again brought me to tears.
And then there was you. A phone call I made, gave me a glimmer of hope, that started to burn brighter and brighter. Until there you were. Or at least there was the possibility of you. There are no words to describe how life has changed since that day a year ago. That day started out sad and frustrating and lacking in hope, but ended with light, and possibility, and the beginnings of joy. And, as I think about it, that light, is such a good metaphor for you. Because you are a light in my life. You are such an incredible light in the life of our whole family.
Thank you baby E, for being such a sweet light. And thank you, R, for choosing us to parent this incredible being.
Today's lesson - Hope is a magical thing, never lost forever. It is always there, waiting to be found, waiting to be allowed back in. It's a matter of seeing it, though it may not necessarily be in the form you expected it to be. Hope, sometimes, takes some creativity to see. Hope is not a finite resource. But is, instead, free flowing and abundant. If only you can recognize it.