As I'm eagerly anticipating the birth of Baby Tallie, I find myself thinking about Momma J. A lot. More and more the closer we get to the big day. I try to put myself in her place and find that it is simply too painful. The closer we draw to meeting Tallie and taking her into our arms and our hearts, the closer Momma J draws to saying goodbye to this tiny one that she's cared for for the past nine months and handing over an enormous piece of her heart. What utter selfless love it must take to take a long, serious look at your life and decide that your child should be with another family.
There is a lot of talk about heroes these days, and it seems as though it doesn't take too much to earn such a label. Toss a ball around a court or field better than the other guys, or make a public statement about your private life, or simply do what you're supposed to do and bam, you're slapped with a big ole hero sticker on your chest.
At least for me, whenever the word hero is mentioned, I'll forever think of a sweet, quiet young momma in Georgia who chose life and a home for her baby girl and who, though I may never meet her, will always be woven inextricably into the heart of our family.