In each mother’s heart there’s a special place reserved only for her child. When you’re yearning for that child to come, but the timing is not in your hands, you become a mom-in-waiting. Shira shares her emotional experience with us…

For the last year I have been waiting for the phone call that will forever change my life. The call that tells me it’s time to become a mom. You see, for those of us waiting for an adoption placement, it’s not the act of our water breaking that signals the beginning of the rest of our lives but instead it’s a simple phone call.

There are no pregnancy tests, doctor’s appointments, sonograms, baby showers, etc. Instead there is just a phone in my hand, which I try to will to ring. With no luck, I might add.

I visit with friends and family who have children and I am hesitant to hold their babies. My arms belong to another baby, one that is not yet a part of my life, but they are nonetheless reserved. These arms toil, type, lift objects and yet there destiny is already predetermined. They will one day be consumed by a bundle of joy that is all mine. Until that call, they remain empty and in-waiting.

My heart is in-waiting as well. There is a large portion of it that is already labeled and designated for my child. It sits empty at the moment. My heart gets excited every time the phone rings, only to be once again disappointed that the time has yet to come. I carry my half empty heart around and it weighs me down, but it’s eager to be filled. Until that time, it waits.

My mind gets filled with day to day nonsense and yet it never forgets that it’s in-waiting too. As I lay down to sleep every night it turns to thoughts of the child that is not yet mine. It wonders how much longer we have to wait. It wonders if tomorrow will be the day. It wonders if the call will ever come.

My head, my heart, my arms and my whole being sit and wait for the phone to ring. It’s a never ending cycle of anxiety and anticipation with no certain or approximate end date because I am a mom-in-waiting.

I waited two years to become a mom biologically and now I spend my days waiting to become a mom through a phone call. There is no pregnancy belly to signal my waiting time. No smiles from total strangers as they hold open doors for me and no questions about my baby to be’s gender. No rooms filled with baby gear and no painted nursery in sight. There are no countdown clocks and no hospital bags packed. My wait doesn’t show itself outwardly but instead belongs inside of me.

I am a mom-in-waiting who wakes up every morning hoping the wait is coming to a close and my baby will be coming into my life any day now. I am a mom-in-waiting sitting by the phone.