A Time for Gratitude
We've just returned from our annual Thanksgiving trip to my sister's house. While the trip itself was hard (many hours in the car, a bit too much togetherness, and some less than pleasant driving through bad weather), it's always welcome. We can't wait to say hello, and we dread when we have to say goodbye.
The house is always full for Thanksgiving. Including my brother-in-law's family along with our own, we typically have: 10 adults, five children, four dogs, numerous rounds of Rummikub, a constant stream of food, and laughter that fills the house. It's loud and messy and overwhelming and warm. It's not without its stressful moments, but what holiday isn't? Family is family. We are fortunate that both sides can come together and mesh so well.
Over the last few years I've fantasized about us getting to come to Thanksgiving with our own child; I'd get to share parenting stories with my sister and her sister-in-law, and we'd sit back and smile as all of the cousins played together. This year as I watched the chaos around me I wondered if next year would be different -- would we have a new little one at the table? At the very least, would we know our baby was on the way and get to excitedly share our preparation for the due date? Would we announce our big news at one of the few times we all get to be together? Or would we spend next year asking ourselves the exact same questions? As it turns out, Husband was wondering the same; he admitted picturing how our child would fit into our Thanksgiving tradition. It was encouraging, scary, and sobering all at the same time. It all came together for us when we said goodbye to my niece and nephews. My sister is working with them on setting their own personal boundaries and gently reminded them that they didn't have to hug or kiss us but should at least acknowledge that we were leaving. My nephews gave us all hugs. My niece gave us each a smile until she got to Husband -- he was the only one who got a hug. It was a beautiful insight into the great father I know he will be.
As we've already learned, adoption has an unpredictable timetable. Sure, it's possible we could be parents next Thanksgiving...but it's also possible we won't even have been on anyone's radar. We know it can take time, but we've also considered that we don't have it in us to be in limbo indefinitely. As hard as it is, we can't think like that right now. We have to have hope that it will all be worthwhile, that our hard work and struggles were for some greater purpose. Doubt and despair may come later, but for right now all we can do is be grateful for each other and all of the love and support we've received.
The house is always full for Thanksgiving. Including my brother-in-law's family along with our own, we typically have: 10 adults, five children, four dogs, numerous rounds of Rummikub, a constant stream of food, and laughter that fills the house. It's loud and messy and overwhelming and warm. It's not without its stressful moments, but what holiday isn't? Family is family. We are fortunate that both sides can come together and mesh so well.
Over the last few years I've fantasized about us getting to come to Thanksgiving with our own child; I'd get to share parenting stories with my sister and her sister-in-law, and we'd sit back and smile as all of the cousins played together. This year as I watched the chaos around me I wondered if next year would be different -- would we have a new little one at the table? At the very least, would we know our baby was on the way and get to excitedly share our preparation for the due date? Would we announce our big news at one of the few times we all get to be together? Or would we spend next year asking ourselves the exact same questions? As it turns out, Husband was wondering the same; he admitted picturing how our child would fit into our Thanksgiving tradition. It was encouraging, scary, and sobering all at the same time. It all came together for us when we said goodbye to my niece and nephews. My sister is working with them on setting their own personal boundaries and gently reminded them that they didn't have to hug or kiss us but should at least acknowledge that we were leaving. My nephews gave us all hugs. My niece gave us each a smile until she got to Husband -- he was the only one who got a hug. It was a beautiful insight into the great father I know he will be.
As we've already learned, adoption has an unpredictable timetable. Sure, it's possible we could be parents next Thanksgiving...but it's also possible we won't even have been on anyone's radar. We know it can take time, but we've also considered that we don't have it in us to be in limbo indefinitely. As hard as it is, we can't think like that right now. We have to have hope that it will all be worthwhile, that our hard work and struggles were for some greater purpose. Doubt and despair may come later, but for right now all we can do is be grateful for each other and all of the love and support we've received.
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