David and Lara's Adventures

Our journey through life, infertility, and adoption

Friday, February 4, 2011


I can’t get over the overwhelming goodness that comes with being chosen.  It makes me remember back to those days in picking teams for sports.  I remember mostly the pickup games of basketball where I was almost always the last one picked.  The others just didn’t appreciate me for the defensive front I was with my 5’10” presence, and legs that continued to run well past when others couldn’t.  Unfortunately,  I sort of have a love hate relationship with basketball.  I absolutely love to play, but despite how in depth and intricate I try to make my sound effects while I play, it never makes me look any better.  I’m horrible.  No matter what, basketball still hates me.  My point? I didn’t like being picked last.  

But, I discovered I was good at ultimate frisbee.  I could read a frisbee really well, and I like to think that my knowledge of physics has something to do with it, but I’m sure it’s mostly luck.  I was good enough to be picked early on in the games that we would play every Monday and Wednesday afternoon it seemed.  I studied extremely hard in school, but it seemed that there was always enough time to play a quick game of ultimate frisbee.  Oh right, my point.  It felt so good to be picked early in the draft.  I was special.  I could really contribute to the game.

Nothing comes close to how good it feels to be chosen to be a dad.  A stranger has picked my wife and I to parent her child.  Now that’s special!  There was no other way to do it.  We had to be chosen, and we were.  Over all of those other potential parents, she chose us, and that makes me feel overwhelmingly exceptional.  This is not just a baby-sitting job.  This woman is fully aware that she is going to have a baby in less than 3 months, and she’s making an adoption plan for her son.  She’s played out every scenario in her mind and can’t imagine a single-parent life working out how she wants it to.  So, she’s chosen us to give her son the family that she’s dreamt about.  We’re those parents.  We’re that family.  

It just feels good.  

We were able to meet with G's birth mother again last week. It was so good to see her, and know even more about her. This time we were able to go out to eat, which was much better than the staleness of the agency. We talked for over two hours, and it felt like we were all old friends. Toward the end of the meal, the baby started to really become active. After one very big kick, she asked Lara if she wanted to feel him. Here is what she said:

I couldn't believe that she really wanted me to touch her belly. It felt somewhat strange to lay my hand on a stranger, but the feeling of that little boy kicking still lingers. I can't seem to find a word that quite describes how cool that was. For me, it was miraculous. She is letting me part of a world that will never be mine. And for that, I am grateful. For one moment, I almost felt pregnant. That was my son kicking me. And while I know he is not my son, yet, I continue to pray that God will works things out for the good.

We have plans to see her one more time before the birth. We are looking forward to another night of getting to know her better. March really can't come soon enough!


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