3 days after posting a profile on the embryo donation website, I received a message from a woman with 6 embryos. I immediately connected with her emotionally, and we are getting to know each other through online messages. Slowly, cautiously, and with a quirky vulnerability that appears to come naturally to both of us, we are getting acquainted with each other and with the possibility of making an unconventional arrangement.
I am afraid. Not that this won't work or that I'll never have more children...I actually feel uncharacteristically open handed and at ease about all that...but of the unknowns specifically regarding this type of situation. With traditional adoption, I worried about things like whether or not the birth mom would eat well, or be exposed to some horrible known/unknown toxin. With this, I wonder what unknown emotional and physical effects might challenge a soul frozen for years...this is new in the history of humanity, and I wonder about it. I'm finding myself firm and at peace in so many aspects of adoption that I could understandably be concerned about, yet apprehensive about this. Afraid of loving another little person so much, and of having that child suffer somehow. I can't deny that one aspect of that anxiety is the guarantee of personal suffering that corresponds to the affliction of one who is beloved.
I want to do the right thing and I want to do it for the right reasons. I want to trust God no matter what His plan looks like or entails. I like to think that if I just do everything a certain way I can guarantee the outcome-that by eating a particular way or by praying hard enough, that I can guarantee that my children will be happy and healthy, and that nothing painful or difficult will ever happen to any of us. That I can have all that my heart desires and never lose anything I hold dear. I have realized that one of the reasons I wanted my husband to get a vasectomy, all those years ago, was because of fear. I loved my new children more than I'd imagined was possible, and I was afraid. Afraid of losing them, afraid that I couldn't be a good enough mother to them, afraid of what would happen to my bursting heart if I dared love another one. That was a long time ago, and I have learned that fear is a terrible motive to drive any life decision. But I find myself now, having had my faith tested, having failed, triumphed by His grace, and having learned so much..facing the same foe again. It looks fresh, but at it's core it hasn't changed. I am afraid of loving only to lose-afraid of suffering. At my core, asserting that maybe God does n't know best, won't take good care of my family, wouldn't really do a better job at all this than I would if I had the chance...Pride is the source of fear that suggests we should not be at rest in our hearts because God is not good and He cannot be trusted. God forgive me. Perhaps I am not thinking, as I should, of the souls that await a chance at birth and life...in fact it appears, in spite of all the reasonable-sounding things I might say to dismiss it, that I am thinking mostly of myself.
If you think of me, pray for my heart. Pray that I will rest and be content at every step of this journey. And also that my mind and heart be fearless and open to what God has for our family-that I walk in joy, peace, and wisdom. Not fear.
