Not Coming Home

And he said unto me, "My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness." Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  -2 Corinthians 12:9

I dont know how best to say this...  I dont know that my heart will allow me to type these words...  He's not coming home... not with us...  Michael isn't going to sleep in the crib with freshly laundered farm animal sheets or be wrapped in Nicholas & Sophia (& Alexander, Bobby, & Maya)'s blanket or be snuggled in the rocking chair that rocked his siblings, father, and grandfather.

She's changed her mind.

We knew this was always a possible outcome...  We knew and it didn't stop us from giving her hearts completely.  It didnt stop us from preparing our home or having his Blessingway or naming him or loving him.  It didnt stop us from telling people that we had a child on the way.  It didnt stop us from being happy (or shocked or afraid).

And now, the crushing blow... The inevitable, in some ways it seems, based on my histories... 
To think, I am one for signs and I kept so many of those signs close to my mind to settle my doubts and fears.
-2 failed adoptions, so the 3rd would be perfect
-2 lost second trimester pregnancies but the 3rd that got that far, Bobby and Maya, brought us two babies to love on earth as well as the many in our hearts

Perhaps I should have realized that all four of my miscarriages were miscarriages without a silver lining, or that, from 7 pregnancies, I have had only 1 that made it "far enough" to have a happy ending (if one calls the saga of Bobby & Maya's pregnancy and 2nd trimester delivery and NICU stay a 'happy ending').  I'm sorry... I'm sounding ungrateful or, worse, bitter, I'm not.  It's more a 'laugh or you will sob so uncontrollably that the white coats will be coming to take you away'.

I'm sobbing, too, mind you.  But I still needed to write.

What do I say?  I dont even know.  As I make calls & send text messages- to grandparents, to Michael's godparents, to best friends- I am at a loss.  What do you say?  That he was born safely and healthy?  That his birthmother- no, his mother because I'm not up for that title anymore- changed her mind?  It tells the truth, but at the same time leaves out how anguished we feel... How heartbroken...  But also how we understand her position- how could we place one of our children for adoption?  I'd like to say that, if we knew it was the best decision, we would... in a heartbeat... because we would always want what is best for them.  But, wouldnt we also want to see if we were that 'best'?  If we could give them all they needed and then some?  How can we fault her for that?  For giving Michael his birth family and his biological brother to surround him?  She chose to keep him, to give him life... I'm grateful for that.  And if knowing there were other parents willing to love him and raise him if she felt she couldn't gave her the strength to keep the pregnancy- and now the same strenght to mother him- then that will be the balm for my heart.  It has to be; there is no other option.

I suppose I should stop calling him Michael... And use the name that she gave him, a name I'm grateful to know so that I can continue to pray for the sweet 9lb9oz baby who, although I'll never hold him in my heart, I will hold forever in my breaking heart...
For now, I'm remembering the sweetness I felt when my friend, KK, sent him his first Bible... How I wrote that it would be something to hold onto, regardless of the outcome.  I'm holding onto it now...  Tightly... Tearfully...