The Beginning: Adoption

Within the first year of our marriage, I remember talking about adoption with The Mister. At the time, I thought it was a beautiful concept and thought maybe, in with our biological children, we could adopt a child or two. Maybe. At this point, everything was still just hypothetical. We had a five-year plan, remember, and this was just year one. The Mister replied that he thought it would be too difficult to love someone who wasn't his flesh and blood. I was slightly offended, as I'm not his flesh and blood. I don't think the subject came up again between the two of us.
Fast forward to last March, a few weeks after Dr. Greta advised me to not get pregnant for six more months. We were on a rare early morning outing to eat breakfast in a nearby town. I believe we were talking about our friends who were going to become parents through adoption. The Mister asked me what I thought about adoption and we ended up having a conversation about how we both knew God was doing something, even though we didn't know what, and how we were both open to adoption. I was a little surprised at how differently The Mister spoke of it and was grateful God was moving us to be on the same page.
The next month, we had a guest preacher at church. He talked about sharing your story, and then he shared his. He shared how he and his wife got married and planned to have kids one year later. Instead, they had years of infertility, in which doctors told them there was no reason they shouldn't be able to get pregnant. Then, miraculously, she was pregnant! How amazing. And then, the miscarriage. So devastating. Throughout the whole story, I kept hearing echoes of our life, our conversations, my fears. The preacher then shared that they adopted three kids at one time. Siblings. He shared how wonderful it all was. How the pain of the miscarriage still touches him today. We got home and The Mister and I talked for a long time. I told him I was scared. That I felt like God was telling me over and over again to have hope. But for what? A child through pregnancy in my thirties (an ancient, old woman)? Through adoption? I cared less about what the path would be and so much more about just knowing which path we were to face. The Mister, because he is amazing, reminded me we needed to trust God. He reminded me of his knee issues and all the faith and struggle it has required. And yet God used that knee to heal parts of The Mister he didn't know needed healing. He told me that day we needed to remember to want whatever God has for us. Come what may.
At this point, we still don't know what path God has for us. But adoption has a corner of our hearts.