Crying in Torchy's

Recently, James and I got a 24 hour date courtesy of my amazing in-laws. It has been a disheartening and emotionally rough period of waiting for us this past month and we were feeling the need for some space to be together and to breathe a bit. We had been sent another expectant mother right before we got our date and had said a wholehearted and excited yes to her. Our 24 hours away fell during the particularly excruciating time of waiting to hear back about whether the expectant mother would choose us as her adoptive family.

This situation was something we have now done 5 times and we are well acquainted with the process. I woke up Saturday, knowing that this was the day the mom would look over the potential adoptive families’ books to begin the process of making her choice. I spent the morning sitting in our baby’s nursery that is completely decorated and perfectly put together but very much an empty museum without a baby to fill it and prayed for that mom. James and I then proceeded to our date day. We had a blast and forgot about the whole process, for a few hours anyway (which is extremely hard to do at this stage of the waiting game.)

We nipped into a few stores together when we were out on our date, which is how I found myself just taking a quick stroll by the baby clothes section of H&M. I don’t usually allow myself to shop for clothes for our future baby because of the reality of not knowing what season they will be born in and what type of clothes I’ll be needing. Today though I decided to brave it, possibly due to the hope I had about how just maybe we’d get picked, and I browsed all the tiniest onesies, sweaters and jackets. After a few minutes I noticed two elementary aged kiddos laughing and chasing each other. They ran up to their parents who were a different race than them, and my heart welled up, as I watched from a distance this biracial adoptive family interact. They were laughing and the parents were reminding them to slow down as they ran through the aisles. They were living their beautifully normal family life in front of me. It just so happened that these adoptive kids were the same race as the baby we were waiting to hear about. All of a sudden, I found myself fighting back tears as I quickly escaped the baby section.

I managed to hold it together but was quiet as James and I went to lunch. I held it in all the way through ordering food, filling up my drink and sitting down at a table at Torchy’s. Then the tears erupted as my poor husband reached his hand into the chip bowl. By God’s grace it was not a loud sobbing but just the type of tears that won’t stop falling no matter how hard you try to stop, you know the ones. I cried and I tried to eat and James earnestly tried to figure out what could have possibly happened at the Torchy’s to cause the eruption of tears. Eventually, I was able to tell him about the family that I saw in the store earlier that had triggered a wave of sadness. Sadness that our baby was not here yet. That we weren’t on the other side of the adoption line like they were. We were still in the waiting.

The day before, as I was telling friends about waiting to hear back from this mom I had gotten a message from a good friend of mine. She had told me that she had been up last night taking care of her baby and I had popped into her head as someone to pray for. She said this usually didn’t happen to her at 2 in the morning but she did pray for me and told me how patient we had been, how she had seen that up close the past year as we waited for our baby. Then she said something that had to have been straight from God because it helped my hurting heart so much, she reminded me how the Bible describes love as patient. How in the waiting, in the faithfulness, in the patient hope for this baby, I was loving them, even before I ever laid eyes on them. That was something my heart desperately needed to hear, that in the waiting we were loving our baby.

Turns out, that mom didn’t pick us. So the waiting continues for us, the patient loving. For those who are in their own waiting rooms, I just want you to know, I feel it too. The excruciating, sometimes agonizing, oftentimes frustrating feelings that accompany this time. I’ve asked God, pleaded with him recently to just please let me out of this waiting. He hasn’t and I still choose to believe that is ultimately for my best and his glory, even when it feels like utter misery.

I hope this encourages you in your waiting, that love is patient. That choosing to be patient right now for that friend, or that family member or in that particular situation, is true love. There’s nothing grander than that. One last thing, from personal experience if you ever find yourself in a Torchy’s and just losing it, salty tears really do pair well with their chips and guac and the napkins on their tables are soft enough for wiping away tears without being scratchy.

With love,

Molly