The L Fell Off The Wall

The arrival of our sweet baby is just days away.  We are so happy and so grateful and so excited!  We have marveled again and again over all the pieces that had to be in place for our birthmom to find us.  The pain that we felt over our failed adoption has faded.  I don’t know if scams are typically referred to as “failed placements.”  But as far as I am concerned, we planned on a baby for three months only to lose him a week before his “due date.”  Sounds like a failed placement to me. 

When it was discovered that our first adoption experience was a scam, for days I felt kind of numb.  I was broken hearted that the baby we had dreamed of didn’t exist.  I didn’t know how to mourn such a unique loss.  And I was worried.  Worried how I would feel if we got another opportunity.  My trust had been shattered.  Would I be able to love as freely as I had before?  Or would I feel tentative and uncertain?  Afraid to freely share my heart, only to have it be stepped on.

One day shortly after things had fallen apart, I walked into the nursery.  I know that for some individuals who have experienced a failed placement, the nursery becomes the most painful room in the house. This wasn’t the case for me. But when I went in there I did feel perplexed.  You see, I made all the little blankets and painted all the pictures for HIM. Each stitch, every brushstroke, was made with him in mind. Yes, when we originally started decorating, we knew we wanted the nursery to be gender neutral, and it pretty much is. But all the little clothes in the closet, and the little shoes on the shelf, all the special little details were for the baby boy we were planning on. 

I wondered what should I do?  Replace every detail I had so lovingly prepared?  

Now I am not a superstitions person.  But I did make an interesting discovery that had personal meaning when I stepped into the nursery on that sad, rainy day. 

The “L”  in our little wall collage had tumbled to the floor.  And the symbolism of the moment struck me.  The room that held our old dreams can just as well hold our new ones.  Though baby “L” won’t be joining our family maybe baby “M” will or baby “C” will.  

I realized that the blankets and clothes, they are just things.  Things can be returned or replaced.  Neatly tucked away until they are needed.  Things don’t hold feelings.  People hold feelings.  I could and would love the baby that was meant to be ours with a love just as powerful and real as before.  I made those quilts and playthings for OUR baby.  The baby who is meant to join our family.  And it would not be a betrayal to the baby meant to be ours to shower him with the gifts that I had made for him before I knew who he was.     

The Savior has replaced the hurt in my heart with love.  I needn’t have worried about not being able to feel as freely as I did the first time.  It simply hasn’t been the case.  I love our baby boy due to join us in just a few days.  So incredibly much.  I love his birthmom more than I could possibly express.  She is amazing.  She is honestly one of the most kind, cheerful women I have ever met.  We adore her.  We treasure our relationship with her.  We are grateful beyond measure that Heavenly Father helped us find each other. 

So if you have experienced a disappointment like ours and are wondering, like I did, if you will ever be able to love again, I promise you: you will.  The baby meant to be yours will hold a special place in your heart.  A different one than before, but one just as meaningful.  Don’t be afraid to share your love with others.  It can be hard after you are burned, but don’t give up.  Rely on the Savior.  He alone can make beauty from ashes. 

And He will.