We Didn't Know

Twenty-eight years ago, we didn't know the sorrow we would share.

We didn't know the people who would walk out of our lives never to return.
We didn't know we would grieve ten children, conceived of our love, born out of due season.

We didn't know the friends and family we would say goodbye to at the cemetery.

We didn't know.

Twenty-eight years ago, we didn't know the laughter we would share.

We didn't know about the inside jokes.

We didn't know about the hilarious mishaps.

We didn't know about our children's and grandchildren's antics.

We didn't know.

Twenty-eight years ago, we didn't know the struggles we would share.

We didn't know he would kiss me goodbye 15 times to watch me wheeled off into an operating room leaving him to hope all was okay.

We didn't know we would experience five adoptive homestudies and stand before three different judges to prove we were capable of being parents.

We didn't know he would pastor small churches and that we would always scrape to make ends meet.

We didn't know.

Twenty-eight years ago, we didn't know the joys we would share.

We didn't know about the joy we would experience as we held our first daughter and looked into her bright beautiful eyes.

We didn't know about six children who weren't born under my heart, but in both our hearts. (Adoption is great. Both parents experience labor.)

We didn't know about the grandchildren and how much each of them would find an instantaneous home in our hearts and minds.

We didn't know.

Twenty-eight years ago, we didn't know the love we would share.

We had no idea that with every sorrow, every laugh, every stuggle, and every joy, our love for each other would grow.

We didn't know that after twenty-eight years, we would wake up next to each other and still be overwhelmed with the love we had for each other.

We didn't know we could love another person so much.

We didn't know.