Three's the number

I remember fondly, pressing on the right side of my belly just below my ribs. Annoyed at the invasion of her space, Aubree would kick back. I felt bad for annoying her, but loved the assurance that she was still with us. If she could just hold on for three more weeks she maybe had a chance at life in this world. Sadly, a chance that only would have come from another family experiencing profound loss and choosing organ donation, one Aubree would have needed to have been compatible with.

Three years ago today was the last time I left those kicks. The next day I would push on her foot, and she wouldn't kick back. Desperately searching for her heartbeat with a stethoscope would only reveal my own beating faster and faster as the reality of what was happening hit me.

Three weeks ago I felt a familiar rush of panic and excitement as that second pink line showed up. Three days later...it was over; before it really had a chance to begin.

This week I will turn 33. Aubree would be 3. And I wonder about the 3 little ones I never got the chance to know.

They say things come in 3's. Maybe that means someday soon we can get a third little one to join us here on earth. Aly has asked when we can have another baby. She told me since I call her "Pumpkin" and call J "Potato", she wants another sister that we can nickname "Peanut" :)

The Call?

It started years ago. When I was young, I would devour stories of foreign missionaries. One of my favorites was Amy Carmichael. I used to dream of one day rescuing kiddos and adopting them as my own.

Then I grew up. Career, married, kids. The foreign thing isn't happening, and the more I learn about it the less I want to adopt from another country. But I hold out hope for fostering someday. It's always been a part of my life plan. I just need to convince DH to get on board 😉

Last Saturday, I was just hanging out at home with DH. The thoughts and noise in my head reached a crescendo and broke.

Silence.

And then, a still, small voice. "What if you fostered LGBT kids, specifically? What if you sought them out - on purpose - to show them unconditional love?"

I brushed it off. This definitely wasn't the time to bring it up to DH. We were exhausted from the crazy week, and both went to sleep shortly after.

But the thought never left my mind. It's stayed there, nagging at me. If I really want LGBT equality in society and in the church, why NOT step up to the plate, so to speak.

And then tonight, on my way home from work, I heard this. And I cried all the way home.

Where we go from here, I am not sure. But what I do know is this - I cannot ignore where my heart is leading.