Friday fun, photo version: Three years of Molley

Three years ago today, Ed and I received a phone call that rocked our already rocked worlds. Our adoption agency had a baby girl who needed a family.

As I sat on the kitchen floor, my my mind reeling and my heart racing, I wondered how we were going to do it.

I shared some of our story about Molley’s referral in my 2010 post, Two Years. We hadn’t even been home with Mattix for a year when that call came, well — well — before we anticipated it.

The first year with Mattix was so very hard. The circumstances from which he came are still impossible for me to wrap my mind around. Life was difficult, and the further we get from it, the more I can acknowledge that.

So when we were told about Molley, I knew what we were going to do, but I wondered how we were going to do it.

Life has a way of working out, despite the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that are thrown your way. Just two months after we received Molley’s referral, and  two months before we traveled to meet her, Ed was laid off.

I didn’t work at the time. We had zero income, over $10,000 in adoption fees remaining and over $5,000 in travel expenses coming up.

But it comes together in the end. And just when you think things can’t be any harder, they become that way. The first six months with Molley now seem impossible. Her health, my getting so sick, Ed’s new job (thank goodness) in another state, Mattix still needing so much.

That time, no matter how trying, passed and morphed into the present. Our family of four is so lucky. I couldn’t have guessed how good it would get.

{Molley at referral in December 2009, in December 2010 and December 2011}

Every day, I know how lucky we are to be her parents. She’s the most special little girl ever.

Every day, I’m also mindful of what adoption means. It’s not just about Ed and me. And the more questions Molley asks, now at the tender age of three years and three months — like, “Is my other mom dead?” and “Will you always be my mom?” — the more I feel it deep inside.

But never, for a minute, will I stop feeling so fortunate to be her mom.