The prayer.

There are those who may be asking how this all came about.  I mean, I did mention that this is something I have always wanted to do, or at least for a long time.  But why all of sudden?  Why now?  Why not wait until your children are grown?  Why do it if you can have your own children?  ALL VALID QUESTIONS, most of which we don't know the answer to.  If we figure it out we'll let you know.  Until then, just know that it is because its what the Lord has asked from us.

I can, however, tell you what has happened over the past few months...

Just before Thanksgiving I brought home my Uncle Gene's scrapbook that my mom has.  I read some of the articles that were written about my Uncle Gene to Marc that were put in the Salt Lake Tribune.  As I read them to Marc I literally started bawling.  Just to get it on the record, I'm really not much of a bawler.  I don't know what happened this night, but the Hoover Dam broke and there was no holding it back.  I thought about Uncle Gene and my Grandpa Wheadon.

Without going into much detail, they were honest, humble men who didn't care about fame or money.  They were hard-workers who earned every penny they had.  There's no amount of money you could have offered them to give up their property and their lifestyle.  They didn't care about looking good or owning worldly possessions.  You could not have impressed them with anything you owned.  My family will refer to people like them as people who "get it".  They "got" life.  People like them are few and far between.

I recognized more than ever the legacy that they left and what I have to live up to.  When I finally made it to the end of the article I said to Marc, "We are so lame." Marc didn't correct me, I'm not sure at this point if he didn't correct me because of my emotional state, or if he agreed.  After a brief moment of silence I followed it up with, "If someone were to write an article about us there would be NOTHING to say. We are SO lame."

At that moment I KNEW that I wanted to do something that eventually my grandchildren could look up to.  I wanted to do something that would put an impact on my children and make THEM want to be better.  I wanted to make a difference more than I ever have before.

Now might be the time to interject with the fact that we are in no way doing this for praise or fame.  I am not looking for The Salt Lake Tribune to drop by my house to write an article.  (Although I realize that this story may appear that way, that's not the case.)

The experience I had has been on my mind since then.  In December I was sitting with my computer and had the thought to look at the "waiting children" list that is online.  I scanned and scanned through the many pictures of children in need of a home.  While I realize I couldn't change all of their lives, I could try to change one.  Since then I've been bugging Marc about it. Marc kinda blew me off, letting me chat about it, but never being real serious.

 I have never been the type to share extremely spiritual experiences I have unless I feel prompted to do so.  I am of the opinion that sometimes spiritual experiences are often too sacred to share.  With that in mind, please understand that this is just the synopsis of what happened.  We do not feel that sharing the entire experience would be appropriate.

In January Marc and I were having our prayers before climbing into bed.  That night Marc figured it out- it was time.  Pregnancy wasn't in the cards for me.  At least not for now.  As he put it, "The next child who comes into this family will be adopted."

He shared his experience with me.  That's when I thought, "Oh NOOO!!  Maybe we shouldn't".  I was quickly backing out.  What was I thinking?  Why would we adopt a child when we can have our own?  There's no way! I thought there was a chance Marc was just nervous after my last pregnancy issues.  "Coincidentally" enough I had an appointment with my neurologist 3 weeks from then.  I assured Marc that he'd feel differently once I get the A-OK from my neurologist for another pregnancy.

To make it brief, my doctor gave me the go-ahead.  With much excitement I called Marc and presented to him the  "good news".  Somehow he didn't seem as excited as I did.  His voice didn't show any emotion.  He said, "Wendy, even as you said that to me I had the gut feeling that said, nope, that's not what we are suppose to do."

I spent the next couple weeks praying for him.  I knew if we kept praying and going to the temple that he'd figure it out.  This was all my fault!  I put this crazy idea in his head and now he's stuck on it.  What am I going to do?  I can't do this!  Adopting a child with disabilities will be hard.  TOO hard.  It will consume my life.  I don't even feel like I do a good enough job with the four I already have.  I changed my mind.