An unexpected and perfect plan

The plan. We all have one. This idea in our head about how our life is going to be. My plan was wonderful. I was going to marry the man of my dreams. We were going to get pregnant soon after with our first child and then every two years or so after that we would add another little person to our family until we felt complete. Perfection right? But, you see, that was Monica’s plan, not God’s plan.

It took me until about our fourth miscarriage to realize my “plan” wasn’t going to happen. So what do we do now? We want to be parents. The fertility specialist can’t figure my strange body out! Now what? Adopt? At this moment I just needed someone to call me Mommy. And adoption felt so natural to me because it was something I always dreamed of doing later in life.

Remember that man of my dreams? Well, I did indeed marry him! That part of the plan had worked out just the way I thought it would. He is wonderful, patient, strong and understanding. He agreed we should just focus on becoming parents, not where our bundle of joy came from.

Fast-forward six years and we are a family of seven!

Yes, you read right… seven! Was this part of the plan? Not exactly… especially the fact that when our fifth tiny miracle joined this crazy crew, our oldest was only 5. So how did all this happen?

Well shortly after Isaiah and Hope, our two oldest babies, stumbled into our lives we became pregnant. And as luck, if that’s the right word, would have it, nine months later Collins arrived. A beautiful baby girl. When Collins was a little over a year old we decided to try for another baby. I know, I know—the plan indicated at least two years apart, but honestly I loved having them close in age. Hope and Isaiah played so well and as Collins was getting older she was blending right in with her big brother and sister.

Of course my body, or God, had different plans and once again we suffered another pregnancy loss. Tim and I decided to try adoption again. And by Tim and I, I mean Tim said we’re adopting again. Not even two weeks later, we were at the hospital picking up a brand-new perfect baby boy!

Life was perfect. It wasn’t going according to any plan, nor did it make any sense, but it was perfect!

When that small bundle of joy, whom we call Brantley, was just six tiny days old, guess what? Yes! We were pregnant—and eight months later Garin came into this world healthy and, you bet, perfect. Once again, it all felt right. Magical. Insane. But blissfully perfect.

Have I completely let go of “the plan”? I think so.

The pain of everything that happened will never go away, and I envy every woman who gets pregnant the minute she wants to with zero complications. But they will never have what I have: A family full of children God hand-selected just for us. Would I trade this life for the world? No way.

I know that everything “bad” that happened is the reason I have this amazing life and family. This journey, this process, has made my marriage stronger, made me a better mother, a better daughter.

I don’t take a second for granted. I wanted these little people so badly. They are my everything.

I know letting go of “the plan” is so incredibly hard. But honestly, plans are boring. Let go and let God—and when you do, you will find this incredible sense of purpose and fulfillment. Without a single doubt, throwing that stupid old plan out the window is the best decision I ever made.

~ Monica Chrusch
Diakon Adoption & Foster Care parent

Photo courtesy of Digital Dreamer Photography

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