A Mrs. Miracle Christmas(2)

“I guess I should be saying prayers for myself,” Nana teased, and gripped hold of her granddaughter’s hand. “God has a baby for you. I feel it in my heart, Laurel. Don’t give up hope.”

Laurel didn’t know how to make her nana understand. She and Zach finally had realized that they weren’t meant to have children. They’d decided to move forward after coming to terms with their situation. Neither of them was willing to go through yet another failed attempt at the process of bringing a child into their home, into their family. And the sooner Nana accepted that children weren’t going to be part of their lives, the better. For her to even mention the possibility of a child pained Laurel.

    “Remember Hannah?” Nana reminded her. “She desperately wanted a child, and God gave her Samuel.”

Her grandmother was well versed in the Bible and began to recount the stories of other women who had dealt with infertility.

“And Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist.”

“I do.”

“And Rachel.”

“Yes, Nana, you’ve shared these stories with me before,” Laurel gently replied. She thought to herself that the Bible didn’t recount the women who had been unable to have children.

Her grandmother continued to tenderly brush Laurel’s head. “Don’t lose faith, dear one.”

It was too late. Tears leaked from Laurel’s eyes, which she hurriedly blinked away. Disappointment had followed disappointment. The IVF treatments had been costly in more ways than one. The financial burden was only half of it. The emotional toll had been devastating. Hope had been shattered with each negative result, until Laurel had no option but to abandon her dream of ever being able to give birth.

While making payments to the fertility clinic, Laurel and Zach moved in with her grandmother. It was the only way they could make it financially. Nana needed them, and they needed her. It was a win-win for them all.

    When the IVF treatments had failed, Laurel and Zach contacted a reputable adoption agency and filled out the paperwork. That had been followed by extensive interviews before they were eventually placed on a waiting list. A very long list. In fact, they were informed that it could easily take several years before they’d be able to receive a baby. Years. And as each year went by, they knew that their chances to be chosen to parent an infant would decrease.

Month after month followed with no word of a baby being available. What little hope Laurel had hung on to dwindled down to a mere speck. She wanted to believe God heard her prayers—she truly did. She wanted to think positively, but after years of trying and years of dreaming, only to have those dreams shattered again and again, she found she couldn’t. And it wasn’t only hope that had diminished; her faith had also hit rock bottom.

Both she and Zach loved children. They would be good parents, and yet they’d been unable to have children of their own. She didn’t know where the logic was in this. Why, of all people, had they been denied what they desired the most? It was unfair. Wrong. Devastating.

It was when Laurel was at this low point that Zach had suggested adoption through a fostering program. To her absolute delight, they were given a newborn, a boy, almost immediately. Jonathan had been born to a mother who was addicted to drugs, and he’d been removed from her care. Those first few hellish weeks, the undersized infant had cried incessantly, but Laurel and Zach had stuck it out. They’d loved little Jonathan with all their hearts. Zach had been wonderful with the fussy baby, endlessly comforting him, never growing impatient. He seemed to instinctively know when Laurel needed a break and when to take over. Jonathan responded to Zach’s gentle touch and calming voice. Laurel was in awe at what a patient and loving father her husband was.

    But then, two weeks before the adoption was to be finalized, Jonathan’s birth father had been located. He’d known nothing of the baby and decided he wanted his son. Jonathan had been taken from Laurel and Zach, ripped from her arms. Numb with grief, she’d sunk into a deep depression that had lasted for weeks.

Reeling from the heartache of losing their foster baby, as well as the failed IVF treatments and the endless waiting list from the adoption agency, Laurel decided her heart could endure no more grief. They both agreed it was time to let go and accept that this was the way their lives were meant to be.

“I have the children in my class,” she murmured out loud to her grandmother, trying to reassure herself. As a first-grade teacher, Laurel loved every student. Teaching was her calling and her joy, and every day she looked forward to spending time with these precious little ones who were craving to learn.

    “You’re a wonderful teacher,” Nana said. “You’ll be an equally fantastic mother.”

The front door opened, and her husband called out to announce he was home. Zach was Laurel’s rock, her voice of reason, the one who kept her on balance through the worst part of this vicious roller-coaster ride. A computer programmer, he worked at the downtown Seattle offices of Amazon.

He paused when he saw Laurel on the floor in front of her grandmother. Alarmed, his eyes quickly met Laurel’s.

Scrambling to her feet, Laurel stood and hugged her husband, loving the solid feel of his body against hers. “It’s been quite the day.” She hated to hit him with unwelcome news the instant he walked in the door. “Did you happen to see the police cars leaving the neighborhood on your walk home from the bus stop?”