Change of Plans

"Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you too!"

"Thank you!  We have enjoyed our day!"

Send me a simple group text with a holiday greeting, and I will agonize over every detail of my response.  Is a period too solemn?  Does my wording show appropriate originality?  Do I seem too excited to be wished a merry Christmas?  Not excited enough?  How many exclamation points can I get away with before I seem totally crazed?

Conversational poise has never come naturally to me.  I overthink each word, punctuation mark, and emoji that leaves my lips or fingers, and the overthinking does little to ease the awkwardness that inevitably ensues.  When Dustin asked me to be his girlfriend, I said, "o.k."  When asked by a potential employer how I had handled conflict in the past, I told a harrowing tale about my sickly pet fish. Only once in my life have I ever known with confidence exactly what I needed to say and exactly which words to use.  That day came on November 19, 2018.

We had just woken up on the first official day of Thanksgiving break.  Excited to have zero responsibilities for the week, I stayed snuggled in my quilts, thinking about what a fun week we would have.  My phone buzzed on the nightstand beside me, and when I looked, I saw a message from December baby's mother.  She was having some second thoughts about placing her baby with Dustin and me, and she didn't yet know what she wanted to do.  She felt worried that if she made a different plan for her son, she might hurt us or let us down.  

I read the message to Dustin and immediately began to type my response.  Dustin, confused by my calm demeanor, asked if I wanted to send the texts to our consultant and get her opinion on what I should say.  Ordinarily, I would send Sara multiple drafts, pace around the room, add in her edits, re-arrange the sentences, and read each draft to Dustin for a thorough and honest review.  This day, however, I knew exactly what to say.  Nobody could have convinced me to change one word.  I told December baby's mother that she needed to make the decision that was best for her and her family.  I told her that we would support her decision, either way.  I told her that she should focus on her needs and not on our feelings.  I told her that we would pray for her every day, no matter what happened.  She and I texted back and forth one more time that day, and then I updated the agency, I updated our consultant, and I went to the baby's room to cry.  

December baby's mother made her final decision on December 5, and the agency called to inform us that she would be making different plans for her son.  He was born just two days later.  

Sometimes people feel that if an expectant mother has made an adoption plan with a family, she somehow "owes" that family a baby.  Those close to us might feel indignant that we have "lost" the boy we expected to join our family.  However, after seeing multiple cases, educating myself on adoption history, walking alongside an expectant mother throughout half of her pregnancy, and experiencing pregnancy myself, I cannot help but see the flaws in that logic.  December baby's mother owed us nothing.  She made decisions for her baby that she felt were best.   How could I possibly feel anything but respect for a woman who put so much thought into the best interests of her child?  God gave me exactly the words that I needed to say on November 19, and it's the one conversation that I will never regret. 

Christmas Eve, December baby's original due date, has arrived.  At times we feel sad and overwhelmed.  At others we feel hopeful and at peace.  We have no idea what our family Christmas card will look like in 2019, but we do know that each face on that card will be placed there intentionally -- and that each word and punctuation mark will be completely over-analyzed beyond compare.