The last three Christmases we spent waiting. Waiting for a referral that was supposed to come and then came for a baby that didn’t live. Waiting for our oldest. Waiting for our youngest. Three holiday seasons filled with waiting.

I often felt alone.

I want you to know you’re not. There are other moms and dads wrapping presents for children that won’t be there to unwrap them. There are other parents curled up next to Christmas trees crying their eyes out. There are other parents waiting for paperwork that will bring the child they love one step closer. There are other parents who feel alone. Alone in the weird in between stage of loving a child that isn’t quite theirs, or who is theirs but who isn’t with them.

You’re not alone.

Adoption and loss are two partners in a dance of imperfect answers.  Adoption is honoring the past while creating a future. Adoption is complicated.

Love is not.

And love ties us together. The birth families, both living and dead. The adoptive parents who hold their children and the ones who don’t. And the children. Always the children.

Because adoption is for them. Each beat of your heart that hurts more than you can bear right now is for them. It’s building something strong in you. It’s building a love that can walk through fire and fight through enough red tape to tie the world up in a Christmas bow.

That love is powerful. That hope is strong. And you are not alone.

christmas for the waiting

{{Lyrics from my favorite Christmas waiting song, “Ornament” by The Trans-Siberian Orchestra}}