There are no accidents

(Above Kate at one year. Below the first picture we ever saw of Kate when she was 2 mths)

I intended to finish this blog with the last post. However, today I was rifling through some papers and I found something that I wrote on January 30, 2005. This was a full year and a half before we started the adoption process. Sam was over 3 years old and Luke was 15 months. Dan thought we were done having children, but I was really hoping for one more. Specifically, I really wanted to adopt a daughter from Asia. I was thinking China at the time, but that was before I knew about Taiwan. I find it interesting that I found this letter on the one year anniversary of THE VERY DAY we accepted our referral of Kate. But, perhaps there are no accidents. Here is what I wrote over four years ago:

To my daughter should we ever meet,

In this lifetime I have been blessed beyond measure: blessed to be born in a prosperous country with parents who could well provide for me;blessed to grow up in a world of much beauty with an abundance of friendship and love;blessed with time to relax and learn and wonder; blessed with a loving husband and two glorious sons who are my very heart. With all these blessings I have no right to wish for anything more than what I have in this moment. And yet...there is a longing in my heart. You see, I feel a little lost, a little alone without a daughter as you may feel without a mother. I know that I can never be the mother from whose body you sprang and it pains me to think you may never hear her name nor see the shape of her face. But how honored I would be if you would let me be the mother in whose heart you grow to be a strong, healthy, joyous woman. I honor your mother for the love, courage and strength she mustered to bring you forth for I'm sure her choices were limited and her prospects bleak but she knew you needed to come for you are blessed child of this earth and in that way we are truly and forever bound as family. I promise you this, if you cry out to me when you are born, I will come to you. I will gather you up in my arms and never let you go. Sometimes I think I feel you already. Always I am waiting to hear your voice. Much love, your mother.