Today is day 1,580 since we agreed to adopt.
Since arriving home from holding our little one, I have been feeling overwhelmed facing 120+ days without her, but I realized today that I was looking in the wrong direction. How can 120 days feel so hard when over a thousand are already behind me?
How can knowing the one that I love, and having pictures and videos and memories be harder than having door after door closed for us?
Yesterday I was chatting with bonus kiddo on the phone and my heart almost broke with joy because I see such purpose in the winding road. If we had adopted when we believed we would, I would not love her. If we had adopted when we believed we would, Rosie would not have been born. If any single step had been different, of my doing instead of His, I would have been missing out. His plan is good, full stop.
When we started this process, I felt God telling me to share it loudly. There have been times that I regretted that choice, where living the loss publicly was so painful and invited so much criticism and judgment that I wished I had never laid it all out there, but 1580 days in, I know that God always meant for ours to be a story of Hope.
We have clung to hope for 1580 days. When I opened the email from our agency and read that baby girl’s name means “Hope” I couldn’t even be surprised. His plan is so good, so deliberate and so perfect.
You know what this family has in abundance? Hope. To add her to the family will be a forever reminder of that.