He is Eight Today

...that little baby who was not to be our son. 

That day spent in the hospital, waiting to see him, to hold him, to call him by the name we had already put on all his official paperwork, was eight years ago today.  It was a day that started with so much excitement, as we drove from our hotel room with a full diaper bag and an empty car seat.  We had the ultrasound pictures and couldn't wait to see our son in the flesh. 

Instead, we learned first-hand that half of all domestic adoptions end in failure.  We were among the losing half.  It was the worst experience of my life.  Bar none. 

It's hard to believe that we are again in the middle of the adoption process.  It is hard to accept that there may, indeed, be some heartbreaks ahead.  How do you prepare your heart and your family?  All I know without a shadow of doubt is that it is all worth it in the end.  Every drop.  In the end we will be parents again to someone who we will never want to imagine life without.  Our child.

Today I am wishing a very happy birthday to that little boy who is not our child.  

I am also hoping that my own future child is holding strong, knowing somewhere deep in his or her little heart, that we are coming.  We pray for strength in the wait for all of us.  It will be worth it.