One of the biggest shocks of my life came when Jessica, my wife, said, “I think I'm pregnant.” To be honest, my heart sank. Not because I thought it was true, but because the love of my life thought it was true, and I knew it could not be true. My heart broke because I knew hers would be soon when she came to the realization that she was not pregnant. I knew she would be devastated and embarrassed.
We kept it a secret dream for a while. We spoke in hushed tones, usually at night, about whether we really believed it could be true. We continually encouraged each other, “Don't get your hopes up.” Both of our hopes were up, but we wouldn't admit it out loud for fear of being wrong.
We slowly allowed people to be a part of this little glimmer of hope that we might actually have a biological child. The whole thing was…well, a little uncomfortable. In some ways we had given up hope. Not in a “we-might-as-well-stop-swimmingand- drown-in-our-own-sorrow” kind of given up, but more of a “wealways- wanted-to-adopt-and-this-isobviously- God's-plan-for-us” kind of way. We had somehow put away our thoughts of raising a newborn. We were learning about raising adopted children and all of the exciting things that go along with that process.