After a season of healing from losing our baby in the adoption, my husband and I still longed to be parents. Unlike Dale, I am risk-averse, and my fear gripped me. Could it fail again? Absolutely.
Eventually, we agreed to take a tentative step forward and signed up to attend a seminar held by a local Christian adoption ministry with which we were familiar. He and I made the mistake of thinking this would be positive and hopeful. It was not, not because of the presentation, but because of our lunch around a table with other prospective parents. When the conversation became a verbal competition, I shut down. Questions like, “Who was the most deserving?” and “Who had waited longer?” filled the air. My husband and I quickly exited with a keen sense of awareness that this was not our path.
Our first baby had come to us through our friend in her practice as an ob-gyn. She, too, was devastated when our previous adoption failed, and she had not forgotten about us. A few weeks after the lunch debacle, this same doctor called Dale to tell him that a baby was going to be born the following month and would be placed for adoption. Were we interested?
My initial response was one of avoidance, but slowly I warmed to the prospect. Upon hearing the birth mother’s story, we realized the profile had more hopeful aspects, and we agreed to move forward.
Now, bear in mind that we were not young. The fact that a birth mother would even consider us could only be God’s Hand. Think about it — what 20-something would choose a 42-year-old to mother her baby? But this dear woman did.
Finally, on that much-awaited day, our son was placed into our arms! The allotted legal time passed and no one changed their minds! At long last, we were parents happily rearing an only child, or so we thought.
Two and a half years passed, and a friend joined me for a summer lunch in our home. She ventured to ask a question nobody else had dared: "Are you considering adopting again?”
This sweet, innocent query garnered my immediate response. “The adoption arena is very difficult, and I am not even considering stepping into it again. I’m thrilled to have Connor. Plus, consider my age!” Acknowledging my objection, she encouraged me to at least make the possibility a matter of PRAYER.
Oh, my word! Was this from the Lord? Even so, I literally refused to pray. Yet during the summer, as I journaled through Isaiah, verses lit up about children, mothers, births, and the like, and I started paying attention. “Lord, could You be serious about my friend’s challenge to consider another adoption? Please no. It’s too hard a realm to step into, and I don’t want to go there. Plus, now I am almost forty-five! Do women even bear children at my age?”
But then on a September day, Dale called me from his office and said, “I have our doctor (the ob-gyn doctor) on a 3-way call. She has a question: ‘Would you like another baby?’”
Immediately I burst into tears because of God’s GRACE and His preparation through His Word for this very moment! I can tell you now with tears in my eyes that I STILL feel it. So unworthy! BUT GOD. So, a little over a month later, we welcomed our son, Hudson, who is God’s “flourish” to our family and to our chronicle of faith.
Sharing this part of my life journey touches on my most precious memory of God’s faithfulness. And in so doing, it is my deepest longing that any woman who reads this account will be encouraged to walk by faith and engage the Lord in whatever challenge she is facing.
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Meet my dear friend, Betty. Betty Hower loved her calling to vocational ministry with Cru and First Presbyterian Church in Jackson, MS. In the decades since, she has ministered through her church's women's ministry and independent city-wide Bible studies, while also encouraging social workers through Congregations for Kids, an organization where faith and government work together to come alongside staff and children in the foster system. She enjoys tennis and Pilates. Betty is married with two adult sons and daughters-in-love and resides in Charlotte, NC.