Jenni's Journals - Hannah's Hope Book

I don't think of Will too often any more. I guess it is easier not to. But after calling to wish my nephew a happy 11th birthday, the memories came flooding back...

It was this week, 11 years ago, that I spent 24 mostly-sleepless hours with a friend who was scared and alone in the midst of a medical crisis in her 8th month of pregnancy. She had had no prenatal care, so I witnessed her first ultrasound and learned with her that her child, I hoped our child, was a son. Through that long day and night and into the next day, we talked of plans and dreams and her hopes for this baby's life.

At the end of it all I went home, emotionally and physically exhausted, carrying with me the news that we were not to be his parents afterall. I went home to a mass email birth announcement from my brother along with 30-some congratulatory emails that were "reply to all". It was the day before Father's Day. It was all just too much. I fell apart!

A month later we were back in that same hospital, setting our own dreams aside to again offer support to this woman whom God had placed in our lives, as she placed our longed-for child in the arms of his new parents. It was one of the hardest things God ever called me to do, especially knowing that his parents were not Christians.

I don't think of Will too often any more. But at time like this, when the memories come uninvited, I take it as a call to pray. Prayer is the only method of influence I will ever have on Will's life, but I pray that it is one that makes a profound and eternal difference.

Labels: adoption loss