Who am I to raise a child? Who am I to raise someone else's biological child? These questions race through my mind on a regular basis. Now, though, they come more then ever before. I have emotionally accepted the responsibility of our previous three adoptions, rationalizing my desire to have my girls by seeing myself as their protective barrier. Being this barrier would help compensate for my shortfalls in every other way. I mean, their birth parents made "really bad" choices, THEY were obviously not fit, they were.... absolutely no different then ME! What a realization! By nature, I am just as inherently able to fail in the exact same ways they have; I am just as guilty before God for my foolishness as they are. So, who am I?
I look into the eyes of this young girl that are so full of anticipation and fear. She sees me as her child's hope for a better future, her child's chance to have everything she has missed. She believes this so strongly that she is willing to selflessly surrender this child. Who am I? Tears regularly flow from my eyes, and words cannot express what I long to communicate to her. I am not worthy for such an awesome privilege and responsibility! If only she knew all of my shortfalls, my messes, my struggles, THEN she would realize I am not worthy. I sit listening to the heartbeat of this little life and watch the hope that fills her eyes. I see the anticipation and awe on Ariana's face as she gets to hear a baby's heartbeat for the first time. I sit with tears flowing down my face as I listen to her tell the nurse that this child is mine, that I am the mother. Who am I? I find myself heartbroken for her; she will be giving up her first child. She is trying to prepare herself for something words cannot express, and I find myself grieving for her. This was not her plan. I know the pain and sorrow of losing children to death but not this! Who am I?
I whisper that I need her permission to be this baby's mother. She laughingly says, "I chose you. Of course you have my permission; be excited!" And yet I think, "Who am I?" How can my heart break for her while being so full of joy over the anticipation of this baby? How can I help her through this and be her help during delivery? I have so many questions, so many emotions!
Who am I? I am in love with a life that grows not in my womb. I am the one who feels the joy of every heartbeat. I am the one who is humbled beyond description at a joy that is too marvelous for words.