First off, I want to say thank you for the kind words and prayers following my last post. I am, a week later, feeling like myself again. I can smile and laugh and breathe. Whew.
On to other matters. Twenty-two days. Three weeks and one day. We will meet our next frozen two in just a shade over three weeks. While the numbers seem fairly close, the proximity of the transfer hasn't quite hit me yet. Perhaps because I haven't flipped to that calendar month yet. tomorrow...
The kids have decided to name these two waiting embryos Habeep and Bappio. These are names of their own creation and they're so delighted to add in Habeep and Bappio to our nightly prayer intentions. I've been informed that Habeep is a boy and Bappio is a girl.
The child-like trust amazes me. Cora and Mac have sincere hope that they will meet their two siblings face to face sometime after their fourth birthday. (My due date will be August-ish; their birthday is July).
As an adult, I find myself made cautious by prior failings. I want to qualify everything with an "if" or "maybe". Instead I am finding myself fascinated by the hope of children.
Cora and Mac hope and pray completely for their waiting baby seeds. Though they experienced sorrow with me in May after the failed transfer, their hope is not dampened.
They hoped in May for siblings that they could meet and hold and snuggle. And they grieved the loss of those three baby seeds.
Here we are again, months later, and Cora and Mac can once again hope fully.
Typical adults would hold back some of their hope, their dreams after prior failures. There is pain following the loss of a dream. An adult sees that, remembers that, and proceeds forward guarded. A child sees that, remembers that, and proceeds forward holding nothing back.
While I teach my children much about the terminology and biology of adoption and embryo adoption, I am learning too. Learning about love and hope, how to hope fully with my whole being. And sometimes, I think they are the better teachers.