By Lauren Barrett 
July 2021: I wasn’t pregnant. I stood in the apartment in New York City about to crumble in the tiny, cramped bathroom. I hadn’t even come prepared with the monthly essentials because I had been so certain that this would just magically happen like it seemed to have occurred for our first child.
Hot tears streamed down my face as I rushed to the closest Duane Reade, and excruciating pain shot from my abdomen, further taunting me that I was, in fact, not pregnant. I might have been overreacting just a bit. Okay, maybe a lot. What, hey, aren’t all feelings valid?
We had only been trying for one month. Most people don’t just get pregnant on the first go around. Our first child was the exception to the rule, not the rule itself. However, to be fair to my feelings and me, we did have to wait over two years after the birth of our son to even begin trying again because of my brain aneurysm surgery.
So I felt a little behind on the social media life trajectory. Weren’t kids supposed to be nicely spaced, two to three years apart? Weren’t we supposed to be taking family portraits of our son being promoted to big brother by now? Wasn’t I supposed to be joining the ranks of the other mothers who were pregnant with their seconds? After all, we had teamed up with the first one together, shouldn’t we be in sync with our seconds?
Coming back to reality, I realized life doesn’t work that way and relaxed. I guess a nausea-free summer wouldn’t be that bad. July gave way to August and August gave way to the winter and the winter gave way to the spring and pretty soon we were right back to July again exactly in the same space we had been a year before. No pregnancy.
Except this time, the appointments, procedures, and tests were starting to ramp up as we visited doctors and specialists until we were given the news that getting pregnant on our own was just not possible.
Adoption had always niggled at the back of my mind. It is something I considered long before I was even married and certainly before we faced secondary infertility. But I had never had a serious conversation with my husband about it. We sat down one night to discuss our options. I broached the subject of adoption and after much consideration, we decided to sign with an agency.
After all, as I told him, I felt as if the Lord was leading me here.
I knew we wouldn’t just get a child with the snap of our fingers once we signed with the adoption agency. Adoption is a wait. And what many people might not know is that many people are waiting. Many. I knew this. I knew this. I knew this. Well, I might know this logically, but emotionally, it is so hard.
After the initial excitement of announcing our adoption, gathering the funds, arranging our home study, running around to government buildings to get signatures and approvals, throwing a party, and creating our adoption essentials like website, video, and pamphlet wore off, we were left with the long, tedious wait.
To add fuel to the fire, my mom died unexpectedly, therefore postponing our adoption from going live. I was left with the reality that I would have to face this without my precious mother who had always been there for me. The grief has been crushing.
Now, two years later from when we first signed our adoption contract, we are still waiting . . . with no end in sight. I see people in church with five, six, seven children. I hear pregnancy announcements left and right. I see Grandmas with their grandkids. I see siblings playing with one another. I go to adoption meetings month after month with no news. I continuously answer, “No update,” when people ask how the adoption is going. I frequently wonder if we made the right decision.
I feel like the Lord has left me here.
During these dark moments when I feel as if the Lord has left me, I remember that He loves me and would never leave me just because things are going according to His plan and not mine. I’m so thankful for His blessings, and yes, I’m thankful for unanswered prayers.
And I know, no matter how hard the journey can be, He loves me so much that He is leading me to something great. I know this. I know this. I know this.
by Amanda Nelson 
