Tonight we dropped off the kids with the Grandparentshad a nice dinner and braved "Toys 'R Us" for some Christmas shopping. While we know that they'll get lots of goodies from all the relativeswe wanted to have some things under our tree for our own celebration. It was important to me that thy get a few things just from usespecially since this is our first Christmas together as a family.
While unpacking our Christmas stockingsAmy uncovered Annica's little pink Santa hat that reads "First Christmas." It sat perched atop her monitor in the NICU last year while my folks watched Josiah. I remember that we desperately wanted her home for Christmas so we could be together as a family. Our consolation was the kindness of the nurses and neonatologists that decorated all the isolettes and tried to make the NICU as festive as possible.
While I'm disappointed that Amy will be working Christmas daywe'll all be together as a family on Christmas Eve and the days following Christmasso I can hardly complain. We'll have our family Christmas celebration after the Christmas Eve service and they can dream of all of the wonderful celebrations to come.
As we were wrapping their gifts tonightI realized how long we had waited to give these gifts to our children. How long we had waited to hang more than just two stockings on the railing. For usthis Christmas signifies wholeness and peace; a calming of the raging storm that was infertility. I remember the unbearable pain that accompanied Christmas every yearand I thank God that–by His grace alone–we weathered the storm. While it will forever be etched into our storythe pain is a distant memory. This year I feel like Ebeneezer Scrooge when he wakes us Christmas morning; like George Bailey running through town in a joyous stupor shouting "Merry Christmas" to anyone who will listen. Whether you've been scorched by the demon of infertility or are waiting in the purgatory of "the pool" for your adoptiondon't give up hope. Your "George Bailey" moment is gonna come!