After 22 months of trying to conceive, my husband and I decided to turn our attention, energy and money to adoption. We had absolutely no idea what that mean or how that would work, but I had more peace than I’d had in the whole let’s-have-a-family journey.
During that season of infertility, I constantly cried, yelled, prayed and hoped: “God, please help us become pregnant.” Yes, I wondered if God – the giver of life – was hearing me.
I would soon find out he most certainly was hearing the desires of my heart.
We began the adoption process, tackling it one conversation, phone call, and prayer at a time. I was tired of recounting the timeline of infertility and putting on a strong face with the professionals, so we decided not to apply to an adoption agency. We decided to just wait and see. Gradually, we told people about our desire to adopt. We started with friends and family as well doctors and attorneys in our small town.
Then two months later, on Christmas Eve 2006, we were at my parents’ house and my sister and her now-husband told us about an 18-year-old girl they knew who wanted to find a family to adopt her baby. Not quite a month later, we saw our daughter via ultrasound and named her Catherine Anna on the way back to Murray, Kentucky, from Bloomington, Indiana.
We were naming her after my mom and Greg’s grandma, but God orchestrated a detail to remind us he cares: Catherine is the birth mom’s middle name. Other details reminded us God was in control, authoring a story for our family.
We completed our home study, hired an Indiana attorney and social worker, hired a Kentucky attorney, decorated a nursery, made six more trips to Bloomington with that last coming in the early morning of Sunday, May 6, 2007 – 15 weeks after we met our daughter’s birth mom.
Our daughter was born seven months after we stopped trying to create a family. Her birth mom told us we were an answer to her prayers. Yet this little life another woman carried and cared for was an answer to the prayer my heart had cried out for years. I had begged God to become pregnant. And while God didn’t answer this exact prayer, he heard the desire of my heart, which was to have a family.
It’s a lesson I still hold close: Even when we don’t say the right words, God knows. In his timing, we see at least a glimpse of his masterpiece.
On Cate’s second birthday, we met with the same social worker to update our home study for what we thought would be an agency adoption. We loved everything about our independent, private adoption process that led us to our first-born child. And, really, we wanted to do it again, but we assumed we should proceed with the “normal” adoption route.
(Somehow I still thought I was in charge of the plan. If you know me, then you know this is a lesson I learn over and over and over again. God always wins. Oh, and, hey, there’s no normal in adoption.)
We chose an agency 663 miles from home because we thought it was the right fit for us this time around. But a week before we left for a meeting with this Texas agency as part of a family vacation, our local attorney who knew we wanted to adopt again told us of a woman who wanted a family to adopt the boy she was carrying. We met her the night before we left for Texas.
Leaving for the Lone Star state, we had many questions, but by the time we returned home we knew we should pursue this local independent adoption. Peace that passes all our understanding assured us – again.
We saw our son – Benjamin Lucas – on an ultrasound about 14 weeks before we held him in our arms in the hospital three blocks from our house. So many of the timeline of his adoption mirrors our experience with Cate. Ben’s story really is a continuation of his sister’s story, which is ultimately the story of God’s faithfulness in our life.
God knew the desires of our hearts again and fulfilled them in his time. He showed us his faithfulness in such a tangible way. I never expected adoption to be our story, but it’s a story I tell over and over again because it’s the one that changed me.
Adoption built my faith and gave me a family.
On the journey to motherhood, I learned what the peace that passes all understanding really means and how God really does work together all things for his good. I have a testimony of God’s faithfulness I wouldn’t trade for getting my own way when I thought I knew what was best.
Kristin Hill Taylor believes in seeking God as the author of every story. God continues to surprise her – in the best kind of
way – with all the ways her life is nothing like she expected. She lives in Murray, Ky., with her husband, Greg, and two kids – Cate and Ben. Connect with Kristin on her blog, Twitter, Facebook or via email.