As I sit here, Puget Sound Energy is jackhammering and drilling through concrete about 20 feet from my couch. It is loud, incessant, and intrusive. I can’t talk to Arundel who is 2 feet away from me because of the noise. It is drowning out every other movement or whisper in our home. It is making it difficult to even think.

Welcome to my life for the last couple of weeks. No, not the drilling and loud noises, (those only came today, thankfully) but the all-consuming intenseness that comes with waiting. It is a constant thought in the back of my mind, day in, and day out. When I wake up, when I go to sleep — whether I am driving, or talking, or singing karaoke to my dogs (come on, I know you do that, too…) — it is there. It is that little thought that is always on my mind…

It could be now.

Or, now.


See, that’s the thing about waiting for your child via adoption. You have no timetable of what to expect. A lot of people refer to this waiting period as being ‘paper pregnant’. I love this term because it speaks to the expectation of pregnancy in our hearts — even though all we have to show for that pregnancy is a big stack of forms and checks. However, when a woman is pregnant, there is a very definitive beginning and end. Whether she knows early on, or a few months in, as soon as she sees a doctor, he will give her that blessed due date. And suddenly, everything in her life is focused on that date. That week. That month. It becomes a deadline — not only for her aching body to know that there will be an end to the uneasy load, but also for her mind to set herself goals and prepare for the baby, and for her heart — to grow in expectation, love, and dreams for her new child.

We are definitely doing all of that. We may not be physically pregnant right now, but our hearts are so expectant. Every baby I see jolts my imagination and sends my mind into the thoughts of possibility. Will he/she look like that? Will they be tall or short? Loud or quiet? Shy or outgoing? Will they enjoy music like Arundel? Or enjoy creativity like me? Will they know us from the time we hold them? Will we know they are ours once we find them? Will they be glad to be in our family? Will they love us? Will they have a hard time with their story?

These are the real, raw thoughts I’m having. And, yes, I know the answers, in theory. I know that God is in control and is placing the perfect children into our family, just like he does with any family. It is He who chooses, He who orchestrates, He who blesses us. And I have confidence that He will show us the right way. But, that doesn’t chase my curiosity away.

And, I’m glad. I’m glad that my heart can’t get away from the tugging, from the heaviness, and from the constant expectancy. I’m glad that even though my stomach isn’t bulging from growing life inside of me…my heart is.