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Another day. Another challenging Monday, but for different reasons than one may think. Our county has completely changed its main use of technology during a pandemicâ¦ during the first virtual nine weeks, meaning we will learn it as the kids learn it: completely remotely. I sighed. I struggled. And at 3:05, I did something I had vowed to do this year: I left work at work, and raced home to my kids, my boys. The school day was left at the school day, and I wanted to show them the money I wasted on more stuffed animals and cars that will eventually end up in the give away pile. I also started the day differently. Yes, it was with prayer, but this time I just prayed, like always for my family, thanking God they are mine, and they are safe, and as I rounded the corner of my adoption prayer, I prayed instead if we have a birth mother, that we have a good relationship, that she chooses us because she knows immediately that her child would be home. I also prayed that she and I would bond, that our child would know he or she has two mothers who loved him or her enough to provide a life maybe at this time she could not, and one that loved her and him or her enough to seek that relationship out, openly. I prayed for the birth mothers who didnât choose us, those who decided to parent and put their most loved possessions willingly into anotherâs arms. These are all things I have prayed before, but the if, the if makes them difference. No one can tell us why or how or when, but mainly a person cannot say it will, and the âifâ is the difference because it changes my attitude. Will I be perfect? Heck no. Will I continue to ask why and possibly mourn when it does not happen? Sure. But the if, the if is what I can alter because my attitude can determine my perspective and if I do not if, and only âwill,â I definitely will miss out on my boys, my potential avenues of faith and joy and that 3:05 time that pushes me home every day, reminding me to leave the past where it lies and race toward the future.