First we went to Studio Movie Grill for dinner and movie where we watched the new Beauty and the Beast movie. I was amazed at just how closely it followed the original cartoon that I used to have completely memorized at one point in my life. I'd forgotten how much I loved that movie until my best friend from high school said the new one coming out made her think of me. :)
We then spent the night in a nice hotel here in the DFW area, enjoyed a nice breakfast together, and then went to the new movie, The Case for Christ, with two friends from our Life Group. Some other friends from Life Group took the boys under their wing and fed and entertained the boys for us, so we felt so blessed.
Ten years ago on this date, I spent our eighth anniversary curled up in bed, grieving the loss of my second pregnancy. A few days later, I took a day off from school to just think and process my emotions. I went to my favorite coffee shop, sat down with a notepad and a pen, and left with this poem.
Who will carry a sibling for my son?
How deeply I've longed for
a sibling for my son.
My dream has always been
a foreign adoption.
I see a Latin child
linking hands with a white,
both speaking in Spanish
and English all night.
It seemed impossible
until this recent year.
A possibility
now so very clear.
Anxiously awaiting
a chance to save for her.
My dream so tangible--
how excited we were!
Yet one day all that changed
when I found out that I
was holding within me
a dream we had let die.
Our hearts so quickly changed,
envisioning our child--
what we'd least expected
made my thinking run wild!
I felt total peace,
it all seemed so right.
Things fell right into place.
Our baby now in sight!
I never imagined
how short-lived it could be.
I never expected
I would lose this baby.
I couldn't believe it,
would God play with my heart?
Why would He tease us,
and tear our dreams apart?
Now I'm left wond'ring if,
while back here at square one,
I'm the one to carry
a sibling for my son.
I can't even describe the peace that poem brought me, knowing that God held my baby in heaven for me because another child was already waiting here on earth for me, for a mom and for a family to call their own. Only God knew the miscarriage was just the beginning of that journey of loss. Now instead of a nine-year old running around my house, my nineteen-year-old adopted child looks to me for guidance and stability, for nurturing, protection, provision, and love. He won't always admit he needs or wants those things, but he will always tell you that more than anything, he wanted a family.
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