The Miracle of Life

I think about the very first moment I saw my children's faces. That moment when you behold your child's face for the very first time . . . there is nothing like it. I remember thinking "Oh, so this is who you are!" and they felt instantly familiar. It was as though I had been longing for them forever. Their faces were just blurry and I couldn't quite make out who they are. In that moment their faces came into focus and it felt so right.

It was also a bit shocking.

Especially the first time I gave birth. I knew my daughter very well. I knew her movements, kicks and rolls. I knew the adorable quiver of her hiccups several times a day. I remember waddling into the hospital to go to work as a nurse and feeling as though we were a team. I shared my life and my body with her for 9 months and we had a relationship. I talked to her, prayed over her and even read to her. On her birth day, when after hours of labor, I finally saw her perfectly formed, marvelous little body emerging from my own . . . it was shocking. There. was. a. baby. in. there. What?? Even after feeling her kick and roll around and even seeing ultrasound images of her it was still startling and overwhelming to me. Simply a miracle. With the boys, I knew what to expect and that just added to the anticipation. Still, in that moment it is so amazing to fully appreciate the beauty of birth and the miracle of life.

It would seem that our journey to meet our newest daughter would be quite different but I actually see many similarities. This entire phase of the adoption is sort of like the throwing-up-every-fifteen-minutes-and-going-to-bed-at-8pm phase. Not too much fun but still the promise that it will be worth it . . . one day. The next phase is when we see our daughter's face in a photograph for the first time. It will start to feel more real as we have an image of who she is and learn a little bit about her story. Excitement will set in as we anticipate her arrival. The final phase is one last painful push of paperwork and travel as we make our way halfway around the world and walk into an office building and she is placed in our arms. That moment, I believe, will be very similar to the first time I held my 3 other children for the first time. There are likely to be tears from both of us and I fully expect to feel the same overwhelming sense of shock that this . . . is . . . our . . . child. There really is a child at the end of this process. This is who we have been falling in love with all of these months, waiting for, working for, saving for, sacrificing for. This is her.

Her face is a bit blurry right now in my mind, even in the photos we will eventually see of her we won't fully see her until she is in our arms. I expect to feel the same shock that I felt the first time I experienced such a miracle.

I can't think about the birth of my biological children and not think about the birth of my adopted child. I know her birth mother had a relationship with her before she was born. She felt those first little flickers of life kicking in her womb. She felt those flickers grow to kicks and rolls as time went on. Perhaps her birth mother felt the same shock I did when she gave birth and saw her child for the very first time. I may never know any more than that about our daughter's birth which is really difficult for me because I know it will be difficult for her one day. But as a mother I do know that life and birth is a miracle and I'm confident that every mother shares in the bond of that miracle. So I share that bond with her birth mother also. I also have the privilege of looking at the same little face she saw and experiencing that miracle again.