Do You Hear That?

That sound?

It's the sound of crickets.

Crickets chirping.

And lots of silence.

No, my house is not silent. It never is. Unless the kids are asleep. But that's not what this is about. Our profile went up on Monday. We are getting some more pictures up and will update the funny looking family picture we put on. But that won't be for another week.

The silence is the sound that every adoptive parent hears when the paperwork is done and the waiting begins. The crickets just remind me of my bedroom in California. But that's another post.

You work so hard and are so busy getting all the paperwork filled out. You get all your pictures in order. You get all the other paperwork in order. You have all the meetings and visits. Your homestudy is written. Your approval is gotten. Your life is turned inside out for a caseworker to make sure you are qualified to be a parent. Then...

Silence.

It's hard to explain. You see, our part is done. The waiting begins. There is nothing left to do. Oh, we can update pictures when we have cool new ones to put on our profile. We can change some things in our letter that might make that difference for our birthmom to find us. But we are done with our part.

Someone compared this process to a popularity contest once. A few years ago I might have agreed. But when you go through this process and you put your heart and soul and your tears and sweat, and even your blood into it, you realize it's not about popularity. It's about a child that will be born who needs a mom and a dad and, in our case, 2 brothers and a sister, and a birthmom who sees your family picture and reads your letter and she knows you. And she knows that the baby she carries is not hers to raise. That baby belongs to that family. To our family. As I look at all the other profiles out there and see some beautiful families and couples who don't have children yet, I think about popularity. I think that there is no way I can compare to some of those other women. My family can't compare to those other families.

But then I stop. I breathe. I remember that our birthmom isn't looking for any of them. She will be looking for Me. For Daniel. For Isaac and Samuel and Ruthann. And when she sees us, it will be the craziness of our family that connects her. The fun things we do in the summer. The loud yelling we do at demolition derbys. The hard work of our dad. The sweet silliness of our kids. The commitment of our mom. That will be what she needs to know that we have been connected before we even began this process. We were connected by the same eternal connection that brought Daniel and me together and into each other's arms. That brought each of our boys into our arms through life threatening pregnancies. That brought our daughter to our arms from the other side of the world. That will have her place her precious baby in our arms. And strengthen that eternal connection for the rest of our lives. And eternity.

The silence has been a little deafening this week. But I'm listening to the crickets sing with a lot more delight. We are not waiting. We continue to live. To love. To make lots of noise. And when our birthmom is ready, she will find us. And we will show her the room in our hearts that has been prepared for her. And our family will grow. Again.