Gratitude

Yesterday afternoon, Silas fell asleep on my chest for the first time in a long time. I laid there soaking it in, feeling his heart beat on top of mine. This kid's heart beats so in sync with mine that sometimes I forget he grew in another mama's belly. I never forget her. I just sometimes forget that Silas hasn't always been a part of me. He hasn't always been mine. 

I began imagining what it would have been like to have had him growing in me. I don't feel any lack in our relationship because we missed out on that time together, but there's a part of me that does grieve for that time. Not because we lack a connection, but because I know he has a connection to another mom too. 

I started to wonder...if I could have grown him in my own womb and given birth to him myself, would I have? 

Well, sure, if he could still be the same Silas that he is now. But, the reality is, he would be a different kid if he had been born to me. And, I don't want a different kid.  

So, my grief is drowned in the depths of my gratitude. 

Gratitude for his birthmom, who carried and cared so well for my baby for 9 months and then selflessly gave him the life she wanted him to have...one that did not include her. My privilege is her pain. And her connection to Silas does not diminish mine. In fact, I think it strengthens it, because I carry with me every day the knowledge that he could belong to someone else. And yet, he's mine.

And my gratitude for a God who breathed a deep desire for adoption into my heart long ago, before infertility was something I even knew could be a reality. For a God who gently guided us through our pain down the road that led to Silas. For a God who redeems and restores and who causes all things to work together for good.

I feel this overwhelming gratitude daily, and I often ask Silas in these moments, "How did I get you?" and "Why do I get to be your mama?" 

I live every day in awe that he is mine.

  

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