The story of Grif. {PART 1}

Our children are precious miracles, that have triumphed great loss; the marvel that is, delicately permeating the broken that was, resolute to dissipate the defeat and ache that exists in the place it demands to conquer.

Grif is no different.

It has been so difficult for me to write out his story, because it intricately dances with some of the deepest sorrow that we experienced last year. There is so much anguish that surrounds his arrival, and yet, he is the joy that my heart has never known.

He is, and always will be, worth it.

.

We got the call while I was sitting in the Costco parking lot: there was a beautiful woman in Georgia. She was searching for the family of her unborn son; an insurmountable task, most certainly. And she was interested in our family.

I did not finish my shopping at Costco.

I headed straight home, put the kids down for a nap. A fury of phone calls proceeded, while Chris and I began a consuming discourse. I remember feeling panicked. How could this be?? This was all too fast. Too soon. Too inconceivable. Absurd. Too perfect, and simply crazy! Not possible.

Then we decided to pray: Is this our baby?

I immediately was overcome with absolute, and complete peace; a blanket of certainty. Not a single fiber was overcome with the impossible of the situation we were walking into. All the apprehension, uncertainty...gone.

He was our boy.