By Jordyn Glaser
On a frosty morning in January, I strolled into my favorite coffee shop and found an open table towards the back. I ordered my regular black coffee and a latte for the empty chair across from me. At the same moment our mugs appeared at the table, Emma entered the front doors with a smile and a ready hug. We spent several minutes catching up on life and flipping through pictures of growing kids and silly dogs on our phones. As old friends seem to do, our conversation quickly turned to deeper topics and more tender subjects because real life is rarely without edges.
I had reached out to Emma a few weeks prior and invited her to coffee. I explained that I was creating this project (“The Life Letters”) and I felt her story would be incredibly beneficial and insightful for families to hear. And that is how I found myself, over the next two hours, sitting across from my dear friend as she bravely shared her experience of an unplanned pregnancy at the age of 21 and her journey as a birth mother—the privilege of this conversation did not escape me.
Courage and Loss
I listened to her share how she cleverly concealed her pregnancy for the first five months because she wasn’t ready for other people’s opinions. How she lay in the small bed after delivery and realized she was alone for the first time in nine months. How she left the hospital with empty arms. I felt the depth of her courage, and the love for her child pressed hard on my heart.
As our conversation softened to the present, almost nine years from when her journey started, Emma paused and swirled her rapidly cooling latte in her hands.
“At our last visit together, my daughter and her mom came to visit me at my apartment. At one point she seemed a little nervous, and she leaned over to her mom and whispered something in her ear.”
Emma seemed to glow a bit at the thought of the story that she was revisiting for my benefit.
“Her mom nodded at her and told her to show me something. Then she stood up from the couch, pulled up her sleeve, and showed me her temporary tattoos on her tiny forearm.”
My eyes began to water, and my face broke out into an understanding grin. I’ve walked life with Emma long enough that I am familiar with the beautiful, finely drawn peonies twisting around her own forearm.
“She told me that we match,” Emma finished her story as we stared at each other with mirrored smiles.
Two things hit me hard about this story. First was the joy I felt for my friend who experienced this gift of connection with her biological daughter. And secondly, I felt the victory as an adoptive mother that this precious little girl turned to her mom first to seek reassurance and courage in the situation.
Both/And
As I drove away from my morning with Emma, I wrestled with the fact that adoption and fostering cannot be anything but a both/and situation. It is both broken and beautiful. We will walk out both hurt and healing. The truth of the matter is we cannot be adoptive and foster parents without our children and their biological families first experiencing deep loss. There are two sides to this coin; you cannot have one without the other.
I asked Emma if there was a verse or Bible story she related to during her journey as a birth mother, and without hesitation she replied, “John 16:33—it’s still the verse I cling to.”
I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.
But Emma didn’t stop there.
“I’ve realized that it was not one point in time that I would need to ‘take heart’. It was not just when I found out that I had an unplanned pregnancy or when I delivered my baby—but it is an ongoing process of living this out day after day. Over the last nine years it has looked different, but the command remains the same.”
Chapters in the Story
During our morning together, Emma also shared with me the impactful words offered by her daughter’s adoptive father. As she lay in the hospital bed wrestling with unimaginable grief and loss, he pulled up a chair and spoke words that felt like balm for her tender heart.
“Emma, this is chapter one of this story. This chapter is hard and painful, but you will not stay stuck in this chapter forever. Your story will continue on, and even though this chapter will always be a part of your story, you will not remain here.”
We both let the truth of that one settle between us for a moment before she spoke again with renewed confidence in her voice.
“And he was absolutely right. I can now look back on that chapter of my life and feel great love for my daughter and for her adoptive family. I can look back and see the work God did in my life and the healing He has brought. The chapter is still an important part in my story, but I’m not still there living out that grief.”
As adoptive and foster parents, we can also appreciate the both/and of the story we are currently walking out.
It is both broken and beautiful.
It is both hurtful and healing.
It is both painful and purposeful.
Whatever part of the story we are in, we can have faith that God is good and He is capable of writing the next chapter. It is not possible to remove the pain, or the hurt, or the grief of this journey, but we can stay the course and remain faithful to the call we have been given. We can keep taking one day at a time and appreciate the truth of the both/and of this journey.
And we can continue to whisper reassurance and courage into the ears of our children—take heart.
