{While I'm on my canoe trip with my brother & Sister-in-law, I have asked a few friends to guest post … Enjoy and show them some love by leaving them a comment of encouragement}

Recently many of my friends and relatives have announced they are pregnant. Some have been trying for months, some were surprised, but regardless, they have wonderful news: they’re going to have a baby! And with few exceptions, they’ll be perfectly healthy, incredibly beautiful, and they will look a lot like them.

But I’m having a baby too…

When they hear about it, they don’t ask when I’m due, they ask what’s my time-line. They don’t express joy at becoming the new aunt or grandmother. Instead, they ask why I would want to mess up my ‘perfect’ family. They don’t talk to me about showers and baby rooms, they don’t post status’ about how excited they are on Facebook. They ask questions like why would I choose to parent another person’s child or what about the ‘issues’ they come with. It’s like they think my child has a disease….

And maybe they do. The disease of heartache at not being loved well. The disease of being made to feel worthless or an inconvenience. And those are the lucky ones, maybe they were noticed, but taken advantage of and abused.

Adoption is hard, we’ve chosen to adopt a child with ‘issues’, we’ve chosen to ‘mess up’ our family, we’ve chosen to wait. Longer than 9 months, as it has actually been over 12 years since we first thought of adoption.

We miscarried our first baby, 12 years ago. We’ve taken two rounds of adoption classes, we’ve had two sets of home inspections, for two different houses. We’ve been certified twice for CPR and first aid. We’ve waited and filled out paperwork and spent countless hours researching adoption agencies. And we’re even doing it the ‘easy’ way, domestic. International is even more challenging.

We’ve waited and waited and waited. And it’s hard…

So I’m excited when you announce you are pregnant, really I am, but I’m sad too. Because your baby will be here in 9 months, you can draw up your birth plan and assume he’ll have dad’s eyes. But me, I’m still waiting, knowing my baby is out there somewhere. Maybe he’s not a baby, maybe he’s 4 or 6. But I love him anyway. Even though I’ve never met him.

Just like you love your baby…

So be excited for me too. Don’t ask me questions like “why would you do that?” Or “Aren’t you worried he’ll have something wrong with him?” Or “How will you ever love him?”

Ask me what I need. Diapers, wipes, your old car seat, a hug? Don’t look down on me because I’ve chosen this, even though we have our own children. Don’t make me feel like I’m doing something wrong.

Because I’m having a baby too. You just might not be able to tell, because he’s in my heart, not my womb. But I love him just the same.

2013-03-13 11.18.18Adriane is a bio-mommy to two awesome boys 8 & 10, and wife to Sam.  Although she’s lived in Texas longer than she’ll care to admit, she’s only lived in Austin 3 years.   She’s a homeschooler, crossfitter, and runner.  Just finished the Austin Marathon in 2013!  Her blog explores her life with those hats, as well as her dealings with God and mourning the loss of her brother.

Jamie Ivey