Dear Brave Mother,
As I write this letter, Mike and I are sitting in our living room, listening to one of our favorite singers while our dog, Cayenne, dozes nearby. And we are thinking of you and wondering how you are feeling right now—hoping for you.
Since we began this process, we have spent a lot of time praying for you -- for each person who reads this letter. Whether you decide to choose us or not, we are praying for peace for your heart and wisdom for your mind. We don’t pretend to know how you’re feeling, but we honor whatever those feelings may be.
Please know that we believe you are brave, even if you don’t feel brave. Feelings have very little to do with bravery.
I’d love to share some of our story with you. Mike and I first met on a coffee date, in which I awkwardly went in for a hug, and he awkwardly went in for a handshake. From that moment on, we haven’t stopped laughing! It quickly became clear that God had been preparing us for each other. That each twist in the path, each scar, were the very things that made us who we were. And we loved each other for that.
Similarly, we believe that God is preparing us, and our home, for a child. I have long wanted to be a mother. Mike has two adult children, so early on we discussed whether a child was possible for the two of us. For a variety of reasons, a biological child would be difficult for us. But there was little grief in that. We have many friends who have adopted, and my relationships with them and their children began shaping my heart to mother a child who needed a home. We are so excited to welcome a child into our home and provide a safe space for that child to learn and grow.
We deeply believe that adopting a child is a rich, beautiful expression of the love we already have.
Our home is filled with laughter and smiles and, currently, the smell of pumpkin bread! Your child will be surrounded by friends who have become family over the years. There will be no lack of snuggles and tickles. Because we don’t live close to our biological families, we have looked to our community to be family. They have adopted us into their homes and their families. In return, we have opened our home to many through dinners, game nights and evenings making s’mores in the backyard. Your child will have no shortage of surrogate cousins, grandparents and aunties and uncles -- in addition to grandmas, grandpas and aunts and uncles who can’t wait to come to visit!
I can’t wait to have a child to help me bake chocolate chip cookies. And Mike is equally excited to have a child to putter around in the garage with him, putting all the tools in the wrong places so he can put them back after bedtime. We can’t wait to play together in the yard and go camping together as a family. Just this Sunday, our church had a baby dedication, and we imagined our own baby there, surrounded by a church that commits to love them, walk alongside them, and raise them to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God.
Our hearts and home are open. We are ready to play with blocks and read books. But more importantly, we are prepared to show a child that he or she is loved unconditionally. That nothing they do can separate them from us. And that their mother was brave and strong and that her story intersected with ours in the most messy, beautiful way they can imagine.
We don’t want to ramble. The album we’ve been listening to is almost over, and the dog has wandered off to bed. We want you to know that you are stronger than you are scared. Braver than you are fearful. But you are not alone.
Brandy and Mike