Life as we know it.

Life as we know it is about to change - as it has each time we add to our family. Having experienced such change 3 times, this is how it usually goes: I'm cool, calm and collected. I've got it together - babysitters arranged, house organized, baby clothes washed and put away. I am READY...and then, out of NOWHERE, I become an insane, illogical, emotional mess. When there's nothing left to DO - no more prep and no more planning - there's no more denying reality. Typically, it hits me as I'm donning a pink hospital gown and walking (waddling, actually) next to a silent, nervous husband to a cold operating room.

Wait a minute.

Obviously, this time is different. I haven't gone through months of hormonal and physical torture (maybe a little dramatic, but definitely the most physically awful thing I've ever endured). Here I am at the end of this 'pregnancy', and I can take a deep breath WHILE sitting down!! I'm not swollen, nauseous, chronically hot, and suffering from the most excruciating heart burn EVER (Chris suggested I mention 'irritable' here - guess I can't deny it....). I'm not generalizing adoption as the 'easier' method of growing a family, but it has been for ME so far because so much of my perspective is affected by my physical condition. The adoption process is right up my ally. It takes so much preparation and planning - loads of paperwork and to-do lists GALORE. It's a Type-A personality's DREAM. Step 1, Step 2, Step 3, etc...just stick to the plan. Pretty cut and dry. And I think the ignorance of what 'reality' will be is keeping my 'OMG' moment at bay. I'm not getting any heel-in-rib reminders of Emi's presence and constant need. A beautiful woman half-way across the world endured 32 weeks of pregnancy, surgery and recovery to give my daughter life. She has been fed, changed, comforted and cared for by someone else for 2.5 years! All I've done thus far is write checks and sign paperwork. With this situation, reality will come later. I know it's looming...that moment when the gravity of our commitment swallows up my excitement. But I refuse to let it steal my joy or distract me from what God has called us to do. No, I don't know exactly what we're getting ourselves into - and neither does anyone else. This is where it becomes a Type-A personality's nightmare. Actually, I'm learning that parenting 3+ children and being Type-A might not be compatible.  At all.

In the coming months there will be laughter, tears and doubts. That's the only thing that's certain. So we'll have to go with the flow, be patient, and fully rely on God to sustain us. For the first time in my life, I'm looking forward to the unknown. When we relinquish control, God will show Himself. And I, for one, can't wait to see Him work.