Joy and Hope

I'm feeling that funk. I hate it. It's that feeling of having a good day and coming home to something that reminds me.
I spent a small amount of time with a few friends this morning. Their kiddos and Abigail played while we talked, and monitored interactions. It was nice. It has been a great week of getting out some and enjoying fresh air and time with people I love.
Then I got the mail. There was that envelope with the IU in the corner letting me know it was from Riley. They have sent us stuff before, but this envelope was for her nf appointment. And for some reason sent me spiraling into this funk. It doesn't even have nf on the paperwork anywhere. It was paperwork to fill out and bring with us to the appointment.
But as I'm filling it out I'm becoming more and more frustrated with stupid questions I can't answer. "Do any of your child's blood relatives have this condition." I don't know. Fill in these lines about medical conditions that the mother, father, granparents, and siblings have. I DON'T KNOW!! So I think it just left me feeling doubly helpless between the nf stuff and her being adopted, making it hard to find out her family history.

This evening though she was crawling around and came over to the couch to play peek-a-boo with me. Every time I peak she screams in excitement. Then I decided to really get her at which point we were both laying on the floor giggling together. Oh that beautiful giggle. She then crawls on top of me lays her head on me and says "awawawawaw," and sits up and smooches my mouth over and over like those little birds that you can make drink water.
We are her family! Genetically it may not be helpful in knowing things, but I love her more than I knew was possible. Momma and Papa aren't neccessarily those that were there for her conception. I carried Abigail in my heart for three years. That's a long time, and a lot of aching along the way. And oh the joy that our daughter brings. Not our adopted child, or the baby we ended up with; our daughter.

Abigail Tohelet...it means "father's joy" "hope." She brings joy always, and reminds me to hope when I feel like things are bleak. Although there are still times when all I can do is sit on the floor and cry, when I see her I remember the story of how she came to us. Her whole life and coming to be our child embodies hope, and that's all I can do now as we prepare for more appointments. Hope.

Filled with joy and hope,