Last year, as Easter was approaching our family was brimming with excitement. We had been matched with a birth mom who was expecting a baby boy in just 3 short weeks!! I had slowly began filling up my nursery closet with green and blue instead of just yellow, we had chosen a name and we were just so excited about “our son!” We had been to several doctor’s appointments with the birth mom and gotten to experience the gender reveal on the ultrasound as well as several other ultrasounds and stress tests… Listening to the baby’s heartbeat we thought would be our son. I was preparing for maternity leave at work and it was getting more real that after 4 1/2 years of waiting and praying we were actually close to becoming parents.
It was such an exciting time for our family.
The day before Good Friday – 2013- my lovely coworkers threw me a baby shower. It was so fun to celebrate and get some fun new baby items too! They helped me load up my car with goodies – the cake and “Baby Boy” balloons included.
When I got into the driver’s seat I looked down at my phone and saw a voicemail from our social worker. I listened to it and something about the sound of her voice twisted my stomach in knots. I called back right away, but she wasn’t available. I called my husband as quick as I could, scared of the worst, but thinking it couldn’t possibly be it. It probably wasn’t anything right? He was nervous too… While we were on the phone she called back.
“I’m so sorry… The birth mom changed her mind.”
What?!? How could this be?? The mom seemed so, so sure. She had tragically lost a child to a full term stillbirth– my huge worry was that, not that she would change her mind.
I called my husband as fast as I could and cried out “she changed her mind!!!” Oh how heartbroken we were. Now here I was… Trunk full of baby items, cake with what was supposed to be his name on it and baby boy balloons celebrating the son that would never be.
After we got home and grieved and cried together, my husband encouraged me to get out of the house with a friend. He was going to unload my car and shove those things in the nursery… Where right now we needed to shut the door tight, it was just too painful.
As I was getting in the car, I saw him pull the balloons out of the back seat. My heart was in my throat. I felt like he was going to pop them (a normal way to dispose of balloons) but I just couldn’t bear it. At the same time my heart wished it, his hands did it– he let them go.
Up and up and up they went.
And I said goodbye to the baby who was not to be. I let him go.
And so our Good Friday was spent mourning, grieving and crying. But not as those who don’t have hope. After going through years of infertility, losses through miscarriage and now adoption loss we knew one thing– God is good and He loves us. And no matter how hard whatever we were going through was, we would make it out on the other side. We really, really would.
Little did we know we would experience personally the emotions that go along with this weekend – loss, disappointment, confusion on Good Friday — and hope, joy and redemption with our son being born on Easter Sunday.
God is so great and good and powerful. He gives and He takes away. Blessed Be His Name.