Whatever My Lot
Yesterday, we found out that our embryos had arrived at our clinic in Knoxville, Tennessee. This means that since starting this journey to embryo adoption over a year ago, we have gone through the paperwork/interviews/background checks phase, the matching phase, the contracts phase, and the shipping phase. We have done so much and gotten so much crossed off the ever-present list, and now that our embryos are safely in Tennessee, we can sit back and wait for our scheduled doctor's appointments.
When I got the email yesterday telling us this, my initial reaction was one of relief and joy. We are done with the adoption process! All that's left is the medical stuff!
But then, immediately, the full weight of that sentence fell on me like an immense weight.
All that's left is the medical "stuff".
All that's left is the pills, injections, tests, practice runs, thawing of embryos, frozen embryo transfers, waiting for a pregnancy test, waiting for a successful first trimester, and waiting for a successful birth "stuff."
All that's left is the "stuff" that no one - not us, not our donor family, not the adoption agency, not our doctors - has any control over.
All that's left is the "stuff" that could give us the overwhelming miracle of a child/children, or result in nothing at all.
All that's left is the million pieces of "stuff" that could go wrong.
All that's left is the scariest "stuff" of all.
When we decided to pursue an embryo adoption, we knew all of this. We knew that it was a risk. We knew that we could go through all of this and end up with nothing. We knew it...but there was too much to think about at that point. Too many documents. Too many doctor's appointment. Too many background checks. Too many things on my huge list to get crossed off and in the mail or signed by a notary. The reality of our transfer was way far off in the future, and we haven't really had time to think about it. But now everything is crossed off the list. Every single thing is done...except the medical "stuff." And now it's all we have left to think about.
We were praying with Charlotte before bed the other night, and as JT was praying he realized out loud that the adoption is done. We have four new babies in our family; we can't see them or hold them right now, but they are officially ours. His words came as such a shock to me, and I can't stop thinking about them. We have four new babies. We have adopted, officially adopted, four new babies that are waiting for us in Knoxville, Tennessee. But we can't hold them right now, and the reality is that we may never be able to.
As I've been processing through a lot of this in the last few days, there have been moments of such frustration when I think about that fact. The adoption is done, and if this was a typical type of adoption, we would have those babies here with us now. I want those babies here with us now so badly. But...that's not what we chose. That's not what the Lord pushed us towards. He so clearly pushed us right into the world of embryo adoption, and that means that He is not done writing our adoption story yet. Our adoption might be done, but our story isn't. And the stories of those four little babies of ours are not done yet either.
There is a lot of fear, right now, when we are honest with ourselves about the months ahead. There's a lot of travel, a lot of counting days perfectly to get medications just right, a lot of tests and medical procedures. There's a lot of trust in doctors that we've never met and pharmacists we don't know to make every single thing go perfectly to give us a baby. But really, at the end of the day, none of those people or tests or medicines is going to be the one responsible. None of them get the very last word on the matter. The only one who does is the Lord.
And the very real truth is that He might not choose to give us a successful transfer. He might not choose to give us a successful pregnancy. We really might do all of this and spend all this money and not have another baby. I can't even fully describe to you how hard and how frustrating that would be.
But...but we do trust Him.
We trust His wisdom.
We trust His guidance.
We trust this journey He so clearly put us on.
Even if the end result makes no sense to us, we trust Him.
We have to.
When peace like a river, attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul
When I got the email yesterday telling us this, my initial reaction was one of relief and joy. We are done with the adoption process! All that's left is the medical stuff!
But then, immediately, the full weight of that sentence fell on me like an immense weight.
All that's left is the medical "stuff".
All that's left is the pills, injections, tests, practice runs, thawing of embryos, frozen embryo transfers, waiting for a pregnancy test, waiting for a successful first trimester, and waiting for a successful birth "stuff."
All that's left is the "stuff" that no one - not us, not our donor family, not the adoption agency, not our doctors - has any control over.
All that's left is the "stuff" that could give us the overwhelming miracle of a child/children, or result in nothing at all.
All that's left is the million pieces of "stuff" that could go wrong.
All that's left is the scariest "stuff" of all.
When we decided to pursue an embryo adoption, we knew all of this. We knew that it was a risk. We knew that we could go through all of this and end up with nothing. We knew it...but there was too much to think about at that point. Too many documents. Too many doctor's appointment. Too many background checks. Too many things on my huge list to get crossed off and in the mail or signed by a notary. The reality of our transfer was way far off in the future, and we haven't really had time to think about it. But now everything is crossed off the list. Every single thing is done...except the medical "stuff." And now it's all we have left to think about.
We were praying with Charlotte before bed the other night, and as JT was praying he realized out loud that the adoption is done. We have four new babies in our family; we can't see them or hold them right now, but they are officially ours. His words came as such a shock to me, and I can't stop thinking about them. We have four new babies. We have adopted, officially adopted, four new babies that are waiting for us in Knoxville, Tennessee. But we can't hold them right now, and the reality is that we may never be able to.
As I've been processing through a lot of this in the last few days, there have been moments of such frustration when I think about that fact. The adoption is done, and if this was a typical type of adoption, we would have those babies here with us now. I want those babies here with us now so badly. But...that's not what we chose. That's not what the Lord pushed us towards. He so clearly pushed us right into the world of embryo adoption, and that means that He is not done writing our adoption story yet. Our adoption might be done, but our story isn't. And the stories of those four little babies of ours are not done yet either.
There is a lot of fear, right now, when we are honest with ourselves about the months ahead. There's a lot of travel, a lot of counting days perfectly to get medications just right, a lot of tests and medical procedures. There's a lot of trust in doctors that we've never met and pharmacists we don't know to make every single thing go perfectly to give us a baby. But really, at the end of the day, none of those people or tests or medicines is going to be the one responsible. None of them get the very last word on the matter. The only one who does is the Lord.
And the very real truth is that He might not choose to give us a successful transfer. He might not choose to give us a successful pregnancy. We really might do all of this and spend all this money and not have another baby. I can't even fully describe to you how hard and how frustrating that would be.
But...but we do trust Him.
We trust His wisdom.
We trust His guidance.
We trust this journey He so clearly put us on.
Even if the end result makes no sense to us, we trust Him.
We have to.
When peace like a river, attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul
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