Four of my own

Can't believe it. Today, John and I drove home from the hospital with a healthy, bouncing (well, not quite!) baby girl. That's never happened before. We've always had quiet, sad drives home from hospitals complete with plants and sympathy cards. We've never done the "happy reasons to leave the hospital" routine.

And frankly, we're still more than a little bit in shock over everything that has happened in the last nine months, let alone the last few days. A baby? For US? The belly kind? No way, nuh-uh. Fisher babies don't stick. Or, maybe they stick, but stick to the wrong spots. Everyone knows that the Fishers adopt their kids. But, Abrielle has so far lived up to her name. It means "Strong one of God." She must be a strong one to still be with us...

And here she is. No pie sales, no rummage sales, no plane trips or paperwork. Instead, she's wrapped in a quilt I hand made for a baby that slipped into heaven many years ago. I never could quite give it up to anyone as a gift or to our girls as a doll quilt. But now, seven years later, there is someone actually wrapped in it... a beautiful little girl with John's eyes and cheek dimple, my nose and my chin. How many times had I used to wonder about what "our baby" would look like. And here she is, in the flesh. John and I just look and look, and look and look. And even when we rub our eyes, she hasn't gone away.

I'm sure every new parent feels that way, but to us, she's still a shock to our system. Even while I was in labor, she wasn't quite alllll the way "real" to us. I was just going through the expected motions of "what comes next" not really letting myself totally soak in that at the end of the day there would be a little baby handed to us. John felt the same. And when they actually DID hand her to me, I just couldn't believe it. My tears crashed into me like a semi out of nowhere. I didn't think I would get all emotional, and I didn't expect to, but I couldn't stop. There couldn't still be some mistake, could there? No, here she was, on my chest, with the doctor and nurses congratulating me. She must be mine. Wow. That just seemed way too easy. Where were the strings?

And yet, aside from so many people telling me how miraculous it would be to be handed "my own" baby, I still stand by my stock answer that I do indeed know how wonderful it is to be presented a child "of my own." The day we met Adam, Liana and Aleksa, I bawled like a baby. Adam loves to remind me of that... And while none of my older crew have green eyes like us, or "my nose" or whatever, they are miraculously "our own" dear sweethearts, just as Abrielle is. It's just that our three didn't want to sit still for any length of time, and certainly weren't willing to let Mama nurse them. ;O) The love amount and quality, however, are the same, and that's what makes a family.

We are so blessed. Four babies of our own! God is so good.