I have never shared this story.
I’ve rarely spoken this story out loud, much less written it down for everyone to read. Mostly because it was so painful, but also because some things need time to grow.
I can write about adoption and the pain of infertility. I can be vulnerable about my waiting on healing. All of those things are pieces of my story. Beautiful pieces. Pieces that have caused me to press into Father, to know Him more intimately. But there is so much more to my story. And one day, I really think all of it will be shared. But for now, someone out there somewhere, needs to read these words and see a story like this one laced in hope.