I’ve been married for five years, and I just fell in love again.
You’re probably aware that Sarabeth and I have been in the process of becoming foster-to-adopt parents.
We’ve been longing for a child all these years.
Well, we finally got a call last week for a little girl born a month-and-a-half early.
So through a whirlwind of confusion and excitement, we’ve been at the hospital visiting with our beautiful, gorgeous, foster daughter whom I’ll call “A” for privacy reasons.
Seriously, for the first time ever I understand what the big deal is about babies.
I mean, I’ve always been pro-life and have understood the value of a baby’s life, but loving a baby?
Yeah. That’s a new one for me.
Now, we fully understand that, as foster-to-adopt parents, we may not be able to keep her—that there’s only a chance that our time together will end in adoption and little “A” becomes “A. Toy.”
It’s a fear and a faith we’ve never known. But more on that in later posts.
She’s not home with us yet. She’s still at the hospital, but we’ve got everything ready for her big arrival day later this week.
In the meantimes, I’ve learned a few things this weekend as a foster dad:
How to change diapers.
How to swaddle.
That I chose the best wife to be the best mother.
That out of respect for little “A,” I’ll always keep my nose hairs trimmed (not that that’s been a problem).
And my tears aren’t like a Phoenix; they can’t heal my little girl’s tummy cramps, or make her sleep. (I know, I know, let the ultra-cheesiness begin.)
Oh, and I learned one more thing.
While I had given up on God waiting for a child all this time, He was busy giving A. life, forming her, shaping her, caring for her.
So even while I was angry at God for “holding out” on us, He still came through. And now, I don’t want any other baby in the universe but her. Even if she does cry and fuss all night long.