In the Dailies

Last week the kids and I had lunch with some friends from life BC (Before Children). It was so great! I miss those girls and desperately wish we lived closer. There’s just something fantastic about having friends who know so much about you and still love you, friends who don’t play favorites or keep secrets. What you see is what you get. Our afternoon together felt like a mini vacation to me. We have to do it again soon!

During our hours of chatting and eating and laughing and sharing these precious friends reminded me of the miracle of my children. I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s worth mentioning again.

We endured four years of infertility before God gave us Ellie. We went through tests and procedures. I prayed and fasted, join support groups, wept and measured and charted and underwent one very painful surgery. I took fertility drugs, saw specialists and prayed some more. I shouted out in frustration to God and my husband and just about anyone who would listen. Every month offered proof I had failed again. My desires slipped further and further away, down a dark road I didn’t want to travel. It was arguably the most difficult time in my life.

Finally, after four years, I fell under an unexplained peace. My doctor referred us to yet another specialist. “I’ve done everything I can do,” she said. The next step seemed too invasive, too much like playing God. We didn’t want to go there. Instead we decided on adoption. Two weeks after starting our agency research and three days after receiving our first applications, I took a test. A bright blue plus sign stared up at me. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t believe it! I took four more tests (both in and out of my doctor’s office) then held my breath for three months. After the first trimester I started to believe it was real. Our miracle had come. Only six more months until we would meet her.

Ellie turns five next week. Sometimes in the rigor of everyday parenting I forget what a miracle these children are. Yes, Ellie was and is an unexplained gift to us, but so is Zach. I was nursing and on birth control when we conceived him! God really wanted us to have these two children when we had them. I can’t explain the timing or the ways. I’ll never understand exactly what happened in either case, but I know it was all God. He knit these children together … I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

Lately my hands always seem full. I ask the kids over and over: “How many hands does Mama have? Are they full or empty?” Once Zach yelled out “Four!” Not exactly the right answer. I don’t ask the question out of exasperation, but simply to teach patience to them and diligence to myself. I want to work hard, to use my hands wisely, but also remember that I can only do so much. Where I fall short, God may have a miracle waiting. I want to be sure my hands are prepared to receive it. Some days my hands are overflowing. Some days my heart is too.

Mama loves remembering miracles.

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