Two years ago, today, was the last night I would be the mom of one living child, one child who died at birth, and 12 children in heaven.
I didnt know it at the time, I just knew that there was a possibility that if our birth mom was ready tomorrow she would be induced, and we might hen get to meet the identical twin girls she carried. Hopefully she would keep the same plan in mind, and we would eventually be able to bring them home.

Home.
With us…….. 

   It was after the longest four months of my life, a time fraught with ups and downs; surprises that no-one could have seen coming, the good and the bad.
I had lived for every doctor visit, every glimpse of their sweet faces, every chance to hear their heartbeat. I carried around in my purse the little hats I had knitted them, a visual reminder to pray for their safety, their health, and the health of their mother and half sister less than a year old.
It was one of the hardest experiences of my life…just as hard as burying my son only a week after his birth, and death, 36 weeks into the pregnancy. As hard as seeing my only surviving daughter struggle for life, and breath, the first 3 months of her life. As hard as my father’s death coming out of the blue right before her 2nd birthday.
But this experience……… this one was different. There were so many unknowns. How soon, how big, how healthy, would birth mom change her mind, would someone else appear in the picture, could we get everything done in time……oh the list goes on.

   And tonight, as I look at their sweet sleeping faces,
my mind and prayers go out for the woman who gave me so much…and lost it herself.

   I wonder where she is, if she too is remembering this night, and the last two years worth of nights like this. I wonder if she is safe, if she is healthy, if their half-sister is healthy and safe as well. I pray daily that she will take away from all of this how much we loved her, how much we loved her little girl………how much we adore the two precious children that she partnered with God in bringing to our family. I wonder if she cries on their birthday too, just another Mamma…
My time with her was the most stretching time in my life, and in my faith. It brought me to the very end of myself. It showed me that walking in faith sometimes isn’t just a scary proposition from a earthly mindset, but that it will teach you that when you think you have fallen off a cliff, God is always there to catch you. That what YOU think is “more than you can handle” only stays that until the Lord takes you to where you didn’t know you could go, and walks it with you. Carries you through it. Shows you how broken, and miserable, and yucky you are when you really see deep inside, no matter who or what you thought you were before that. And He shows you that all that matters is keeping your eyes on him, and forgetting everything else.
People did not understand why we did what we did, the choices we had to make–all hard or harder. They didn’t understand why she chose to do what she did. They loved us anyhow, held down the fort for us, stood in the gap and prayed for us…and for all of that I am forever grateful.
Their birth mom walked with us through one of the most painful times in both our lives, and shared every step she could with us. In doing so, she taught me so much, and also walked away knowing the babies she had carried for almost nine months were so safe and loved.

  I pray someday I have the opportunity to tell her exactly how I feel. How this experience brought me to the end of myself, and to the beginning of something amazing for me and in this family. That she can hear me say how much I love her because I am so blessed to love our children. That every day, when I see their faces, my heart cries a little for her, and my soul praises God for such a miraculous gift.