Preparing to Let Go

I'm writing this blog, not because I feel that the world is dying to know about my mundane life, but as a tool to help me through what is sure to be one of the hardest things I'll live through in my life.  And perhaps it will help someone else going through the same thing to know that they're not alone.  Or no one may ever read it.  But that's okay.  It's not for the world. It's for me.


I'm 27 years old, and a mother of two beautiful children named Emma (2.5 years) and Noah (1.5 years).  Yesterday I gave birth to my third child, whom I will call Zion.  His father and I decided early in this pregnancy that we could not in good conscience keep Zion.  In addition to our two toddlers, he also has two children from a previous marriage.  We decided on adoption just a couple weeks after finding out that I was pregnant.

Everyone asks why we decided to go this route, especially since we are generally healthy and relatively well balanced people who already have children.  The answer is that we certainly could keep Zion and be happy; with assistance from the government and hard work, we could financially survive.  But to do so, we both feel would be selfish on our parts.  It would be unfair to all five children, to our families, and to the taxpayers.

I have a dream for all my children, and that dream is that they are able to participate in as many extracurricular activities as they'd like without being limited because I can't afford the equipment or costumes, etc. That we can take family vacations, or make spur of the moment purchases - like needed shoes in the middle of the school year or a new toy just because.  But also that I can spend time with each of my children helping them to develop into the best people they can.  That I can go to recitals and games and cheer them on. Help them learn the difference between healthy relationships, and poor ones. 

Right now, if their father and I work hard, finish our college courses, and get careers in our respective fields, we won't be rich.  We probably won't even be middle class.  But we might be able to provide the things I mentioned above.  Right now, if we dedicate ourselves to make the time, we can ensure that each child has the one-on-one time that they deserve and need to flourish in every aspect of their lives.  I don't think we could say the same thing if we kept Zion.

So. Here we are.  After months of researching and looking for parents for our baby, after much heartache and many hard decisions, our baby has arrived.  We're at the hospital, and he sleeps in a bassinet next to me.  The adoptive parents are sleeping in a hospital room one floor up.  And tomorrow is our last day together.  In a little over 24 hours we'll be packing our things, and he'll go home with them.  It's time to start facing reality and look at a future where I leave in a car with no infant car seat, no soft cuddly baby next to me, no diaper bag on my shoulder.  I'll leave with no baby in my belly or my arms.  I'm scared to face that reality.  Afraid I'll fail at it.