Front Row Seat: I cry for them.
I'm crying even writing this. I know what it's like to watch someone you love so much grieve and cry over a child they don't have in their arms.
To choose a family to do that instead of you. It's devastating, but yet, such a miracle. The mom who raised up the child who we've loved from the front row seats messaged me and said: "I understand that my family's joy is your family's heartbreak."
The thing is, is that they were the best case scenario for us. The absolute best case scenario. However, we did cry tears. And still do sometimes. Not all of has been sad. A lot of thankful, proud tears. I've found myself crying for the family that is needing to make this same decision.
I think about the grief. I think about the aching pains. I think about the birth mother. Carrying a child, feeling her child and trying so deeply to not get attached. How can you not, though? Right now, while waiting on this journey, I'm thinking about them.
The family that is being faced with the impossible.
The family that is feeling scared and uneasy.
The family that just doesn't know how they are going to do it.
I cry for them.
I cry for their heartbreak.
I cry for their longing.
I cry for their worry.
That decision you are facing has to be the hardest thing. I see you. I'm thinking about you. And my heart breaks for you.
Erik and I are praying.
Praying for clarity.
Praying for strength.
Praying for peace.
Your loss isn't lost on me.
Your fear isn't lost on me.
Your choice isn't lost on me.
I understand that our joy, is your heartbreak.
And I want you to know that I see you. I see that.