All I Want For My Birthday is Our Baby

I've been updating and adding to my wish list lately. Because soon, I'll be 29 (A couple of months ago, I honestly had to stop and think whether I was turning 30 this year or not. It took a minute to remember I wasn't. One more year in my 20s!). I think having a winter birthday is what gets me through winter because I am such a summer girl. But I digress.

Everytime I add a new book or CD to my list, I pause and think of what I really want for my birthday.

I really want a baby. Our Baby.

We've been talking a lot about Our Baby around here. Writing letters to congresswomen on behalf of others and their babies, and reading blogs about adoption, and thinking about all my family members and friends with due dates, and scrapbooking photos of Baby Gigi (yes, I'm two years behind), and hearing about orphans who are sleeping in the dangerous streets, and planning a baby shower for a sweet friend... has all been making me long for Our Baby to come home even more.

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Gigi often will ask a million questions about Our Baby. She knows that it's not going to be in my tummy. But that's probably where her 2-year-old understanding of adoption ends. Almost daily, I'm answering these questions. I love them. It soothes my waiting heart to hear her excitement over having Our Baby come home. Questions like...

"Will Our Baby use my high chair?" "Will Our Baby ride Sofia [our neighbor]'s bikes?" "Will Our Baby lay on the floor?" "Will Our Baby play with my kitchen?"

And then there's narrative she gives on taking care of Our Baby.

"We'll rock Our Baby. And give her milk. And I'll share with Our Baby."

One day she says it will be named Sister, and the next, Our Baby will be a boy (a "brudder").

We pray everyday for Our Baby to come home to us soon. And I know God will be faithful to answer that prayer. I just don't know when, and that's the hard part. There's no due date, no scheduled c-section, no beginning of the third trimester. Nothing concrete to look forward to.

One of the biggest things God has done in my heart is that He's taken away the desire to be/get pregnant (so bring on the fried eggs and margaritas). I honestly do not covet it at all anymore, like I used to. I admire my beautifully pregnant sister-in-law and I relish in the soft, rolling kicks when I feel my dear friend's belly. But I'm not jealous of the pregnancy.

Just of the due date.

My heart burns for the day when we bring home Our Baby. When we give that baby life and the love of Christ and a forever family.

I'm hoping my birthday gift comes wrapped in a swaddling blanket.

But if not, I'll keep waiting and keep praying, "being confident of this very thing, that He who has begun a good work in [me] will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ." (Phil. 1:6)

Never in my life did I imagine how passionate I would feel about adopting. About my desire to adopt. He is truly doing a good work in my heart, and I thank Him that he will continue it.