As part of Adoption Awareness Month, I’ll be posting about our adoption on this blog on and off throughout the month of November.  If you’re here for teaching-related content, scroll on down 🙂 This is part FOUR of our adoption story.
The day was Monday, November 5, 2013. Â {Keep this date in mind!}
Before I went to bed, I decided to write a quick prayer in a journal that some dear friends had gifted me with during my time of struggle with adoption. Â I opened to the very first page. Â And wrote.
Um, yes. Â I think I gave God an ultimatum. Â Who does that?
I don’t want to sound flippant about this conversation, though, because He already knew His plan.  He was just as sure of it on November 5, 2013 as He was a decade before.   It was only I who didn’t know.  He heard every prayer, could number ever tear, and knew that this journal entry would shine a brilliant light on the love He has for His children.  A beautiful unfolding.
{The following is an excerpt from this blog post with a few more details added}
On Saturday, November 9th, we made a quick evening road trip up to Michigan to celebrate my Papa’s 85th birthday.  Ironically, we never intended to go in the first place because we were expecting to have a newborn son, and initially RSVP’d no.  But, of course, things happened and we went.  Becks fell asleep in the back and, before I knew it, B and I were engrossed in a conversation about God’s will for our family.  I told him about the childish prayer I’d written.  I cried.  Nothing was standing out! I told him.  I asked God to help me discern His will and He. Was. Silent.  The conversation eventually led to this dramatic statement from my husband: let go.  (I know, life-changing, right?!)  But, that feels like giving up! I replied.  No, it’s letting God have control, he explained.  I mulled it over, and, through tears, I agreed with him.
I had been trying. Â For years. Â I tried planning and scheduling and hormones and timing and more hormones and adoption. Â And it had ALL failed. Â I had tried enough, Brandon said. Â And, for once (and only once), my husband was right. Â I had tried enough and it was time to let God do his thing and for me to back off. Â At the conclusion of our conversation, we had decided to let our Home Study expire and spend some time in the next few months putting God back in control of our family.
We drove in silence for a bit after that, and while scrolling through my Facebook feed, I rolled over a status update from our adoption agency:
“I made an unexpected drive to ****** today to visit with a birth mother who delivered very prematurely. Â Please pray for her and for the little one – under 3 pounds!”
Â
In the darkness of the passenger seat, I snickered.  I’d just had this heart-to-heart with my husband about getting off of this roller coaster and I see that post.  Thanks, God! <-sarcasm font]  I said a short prayer for the mom and baby and then talked myself through every reason why I was positive we wouldn’t be a fit for that situation.  I even told Brandon.  His quick retort was to let go.  Oh, the irony!!!!
While Becks swam in the hotel pool that night, I told my mom and sister our plan. Â We were through. Â Givin’ it to God.
We went to the party and drove home that same evening on Sunday, November 10th.
Becks plays in the hotel room with my sister and niece. Â Less than 24 hours later, he would be a Big Brother.
At the birthday party with B. Â Less than 24 hours later, we would have a daughter.
I was texting with some of my girlfriends on the way home and told them about our decision. Â We got home late that night, and – thankfully – I’d already planned to have Monday off.
My journal entry the morning of Monday, November 11, 2013.
Afterwards, I drove Becks to school like any other Monday. Â I dropped him off and started back home to tackle a list of things I’d been saving for an open day. Â Around 8:45am my phone rang.
The Special Ring. The one assigned to my agency.
I knew the minute I looked at the screen to confirm it really was them, that this was the phone call we’d been waiting for. Â And, it was.
A baby girl was born. Â On November 5th. Â (See date noted above.) Â You can meet her today. Â Call Brandon.
A BIG EMPHATIC YES! is how I responded to our agency once I finally got ahold of Brandon at work.
Then I was all by myself  at home, pacing and praying and reading the Bible.  Here’s a snapshot of my internal conversation while I was waiting the excruciating three hours it took for Brandon to get off work…
God!!!! Â Really?! Â I mean, REALLY?! Â Did you REALLY just do this?! Â I mean, OF COURSE you did! Â Of course!!!! Â Because you knew! Â You knew all along! Â This is our baby! Â This is our girl! Â A daughter! Â O.M.G. Â God, you are too much! Â This is crazy! Â For REAL?! Â I don’t have anything pink. Â I should go to Target. Â What if I see someone I know and I look as crazy as I feel right now and they see the pink clothes in my cart and then they figure out what is going on before I can even tell anyone?! GOD, THIS IS CRAZY!!!! Â This is so much better than anything I could’ve imagined! Â You are God and you are GOOD. Â Shooooooooeeeeee! Â Wait, what will we name her?! Â Will Brandon EVER get off work?! Â I should read the Bible. Â What should I read? Â I mean, REALLY?!?!?!?!?!?
Â
Except that seriously went on for three hours. Â We only told my parents because we needed someone to pick up Becks, and I had to keep this monumental secret from my family and dearest friends when I really just wanted to shout it out the front door!
I really did go to Target! Â This is what I bought ^^^^^
At 1:45pm on November 11th, we met our daughter.  A very small, but very mighty, little girl.  All two pounds of her.  Perfect in every way.  She was attached to numerous machines and needed support to help her breathe, eat, and maintain her body temperature.  And, oh my, she was sooooooooo small.
Probably my favorite picture of daddy and daughter, taken the first week. Â Â Â Beckham holds his sister for the first time, later in Dec.
That first day was crazy.  We stayed at the hospital for a long time, and then had to go pick Beckham up from my parents – completely clueless that he had a little sister.  After we picked him up, we drove to tell Brandon’s parents the good news.  Sleep didn’t come easy that night.  One of those times when you literally can’t even 😉
Honestly, I still literally can’t even.  I can’t even imagine the excitement in the Heavens on that day.  I can’t even believe this is my story to share on His behalf.  I can’t even believe it all.
The journey wasn’t perfect. Â But, it was beautiful in its imperfections instead.
I’ll leave you with this:  Brandon and I are not heroes.  We are two very ordinary, very imperfect people who love the best we can because He first loved us.  I don’t ever want to paint the picture that we lead a pretty little life free from struggle or hardship or pain.  The months following the day our family became four were hardest, most intense months we’d ever endured as a couple.  Our relationship was tested almost daily and our faith was shaky and unstable more often than not.
Thankfully, we serve a big God, friends.  A God who understands and can handle emotional fragility much better than we can.  A God who isn’t surprised when we shake our fists at Heaven, wondering why and looking for an explanation.  A God who doesn’t just hear the prayers of a forlorn and infertile 30-year-old woman, writing furiously in her journal begging for answers, but all of his children (that means you, too!).
We serve a God who bundled up 2lb7oz of joy and made a family grow through the miracle we call adoption.
And, today, she is one year old. Â How great is our God.
Thank you for reading 🙂
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AbbyMullins
Abby is a former kindergarten and first grade teacher who channels her passion for education into creating engaging activities and resources for the kindergarten and first grade classroom. When not dreaming up or working on her next project, you’ll find her enjoying her family – most likely in her minivan on the way to a soccer field.
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family, faith, adoption, jesus, adoption awareness month, life
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