Do Hard Things.
I love this tee and it without a doubt reminds me of something so deeply sewn into my heart, our remaining embryos. This though, adopting out our embryos, feels painfully hard. And it will be, yet God will make it beautiful.
To my 12 remaining embryos,
The day we learned there were 14 of you we instantly knew our story of hope wasn’t just for us. You have been frozen now for almost 3 years. Sometimes my infertility feels like a distant memory and other times the pain and anguish of an empty womb floods my heart like it was just yesterday. My body went through a lot just in hopes that God would give me one of you. So when the Doctor called to tell us there were 14 of you, we were in shock.
I have been thinking about you a lot lately.
I don’t really know if we will be going back for another round of IVF. Your siblings are triplets and it is kind of a lot right now. And if we decided to have another baby and had the opportunity to bring one of you into this world, it wouldn’t be for a few more years and we know we could only take one of you. I wish we could take all of you, but I know deep in my heart that God didn’t make you so I could keep all of you just for myself.
It saddens me because I honestly can’t bare the thought of some else raising you. And truthfully, it is hard for me to accept that someone else will be your Mom. She will feel you grow in her womb and share in your first moments. She will be the one to hold you when you are sad, help you when you are sick, keep you safe when you are scared. She will be the one you depend on, the one you cry for, the one you make all your memories with. She will love you with a special kind of love a Mother has for her child. She will know you. She will watch you take your first steps, hear your first words. She will be the one to watch you grow up, graduate from school, and one day get married and have children of your own. I can feel the jealousy in my heart just thinking about her sharing those moments with you. I grieve not knowing you like she will know you. I grieve not being able to look deep into those beautiful eyes of yours and tell you how much I love you. I grieve giving you to her. You won’t be mine anymore.
However, the truth is, as much as I call you mine, or even one day hers, you are God’s perfectly made little snowflakes. And I have to trust in what God told me in the very beginning: “You are hope, hope for many.” Deep in my heart I know that your Mama will love you like I love you. And even though it is hard for me to fully comprehend that right now, I know, one day, He will prepare my heart for her to be your Mom, but I will always be connected to you. I will be apart of you. I will always be loving you.
Your first Mom.
Since I wrote this letter, we haven’t made too many major decisions regarding this process. We have done a lot of research and have learned more about the process and our options regarding embryo adoption. We know that we will be doing open adoption. This is incredibly important to us. We also learned that it is important to wait to start the process until you know for certain you are done having kids. For us, we are giving ourselves until our triplets are 5. At that point, if we choose not to have any more kids–or aren’t pregnant already we will move forward in finding families who have been waiting, praying, and hoping for their miracle.
My heart grieves, but I know this is God’s will. It is one of the greatest gifts I will be able to offer to someone, but it is truly still incredibly painful for me to even grasp onto the reality of what is ahead despite how beautiful this truly will be. I always have to remember what God said to me in the midst of our own journey to become parents, “You are Hope, Hope for many.” So, we trust Him. And we believe he will prepare our hearts for this season and guide us to the right family.
The hardest thing to do is the hardest thing to do.
Tee: Covered Hands