On Thursday night I went to an infertility small group that meets from our church. Women sitting around a table, sharing their stories; Tales of trying to conceive, and waiting and testing and procedures and disappointment and more tests. Grieving the lost innocence of pregnancy. The evening was beautiful. A sad time, but a beautiful one.
It was a gift to be with women who were fluent in the language of infertility and loss. No need to watch what I say, no need to have walls up, no fear of being misunderstood. It's been a while since I have found a space where I have been so truly understood. I have wonderful friends, who have constantly been a powerhouse of love and support in the midst of the pain of the last year, but it is different to share with people who carry the same burden of fear and disappointment and who struggle with finding God and His purpose in the midst of it all.
Such a gift, such a place of hope. In the midst of tears and grief, the hope of a better plan was heard. A plan that comes from a place beyond our understanding. I believe with all my heart that as we welcome children biologically or through another way into our families we will know a little of that purpose when we know without a doubt that these are the children we were created to love. In my prayers recently, I have begun to pray for our children. I trust that when we finally get our baby/child we will say, "You are who we have been waiting for" Not just in a general way as we have been longing to become parents, but in a very specific way to each and every child we will call our own.
And because of that, we can wait.