The following is a guest post from Michele, midwife and former writer of Frugal Granola, about her experience with the birth of a baby after adoption. Also, please don’t miss one of the posts on her blog this week, written by her husband. He allows us a glimpse into what men may be feeling while on the journey through infertility and loss.
A surreal blend of lavender-scented candlelight, the hum of the eternal labor-song, the ripple of soothing water droplets, the timeless taste of salt swirls with gentle whispers…
A child- my child– is entering the world. In a blur of moments, I meet my new son.
And yet, in the midst of relinquishing to Strength, the journey of embracing another soul fills my thoughts. Each wave of physical intensity is repeating a journey once walked with agonizing footsteps of my heart.
I gaze upon my little girl witnessing this sacred moment in awe and rejoicing at the birth of her new brother. Her dark curls tousled from running in the summer sun are a sweet reminder of the winter’s eve nearly three years before.
The moment her daddy’s hand mussed her soft baby curls and laid her in my arms for the first time, after years of fervent midnight prayers, exhausting days of waiting, and tears of mingled hope, grief, and surrender; I met the daughter I already loved.
Birth… Adoption… Two different journeys. One love.
Two precious souls, gathered into an embrace, adored by one mama’s heart of gratitude to their Creator.
The same pain. The same joy. The same reflection of The Gift.