We became foster-adoptive parents to adopt a girl between the ages of 10-14. We had a neat little plan to build our family without adding "parenting years" onto our marriage. Wow, typing that I realize how selfish that sounds. Trust me, we had great intentions. We also truly and honestly wanted an older child because they are so much less likely to be adopted. We wanted a girl because we don't have one. Casey wanted a daughter to walk down the aisle, and I wanted a daughter with whom I could journey motherhood. We wanted to be witness to the life of a daughter. We still hope for that. Our problem was in thinking that we had it all figured out.
Isn't that how it happens? Just when you think you have it all figured out, "the joke's on you". In late April 2013, when we said "yes" to fostering gift baby we thought he was passing through our lives. We all prepared not to take ownership of him. He wasn't ours. I have said "no" to plenty of foster placements for various reasons, but this time I just couldn't do it. I couldn't. I convinced myself, "I will love him well, and then he will move on." It happened slowly, the way dusk creeps in on children at play. There is a huge, yet subtle difference between loving and caring for a child, and loving and taking ownership of them as your own. It felt intrusive to take ownership of a child whose mother I hoped would heal for him. I wouldn't do that to either of them. I couldn't do that. But he pried my heart open and crawled inside. Over time I died to my plan, and accepted this as God's plan, at least for now. What a beautiful plan too! I get to love and be loved by a beautiful soul I wouldn't know had I said, "no" on the grounds that he was not a girl between the ages of 10-14.
As time wore on, both of our boys began to refer to him as their, "little brother". First, during introductions. Then, when they were playing with him. As the days slipped from one to another it was as if he had always been a part of our family, as if he were meant for us. His personality is a blend of the older two boys. He shares their love of music, their sense of humor, even some of their quirks from when they were babies! The similarities are uncanny. Eventually, holding him ceased to be a duty and became a privilege. He ceased to exist out side of myself, but became an extension of me. His coos would come to me like enchanted notes carried on a warm breeze from a distant violin. They began to make me revel with joy for his existence, and every morning and afternoon I waited with anticipation for him wake up.
Casey agreed to adopt him, in writing. He was still nervous about all those plans he hadn't yet let die. I wasn't. A new plan, more beautiful than any we could plan, had unfurled before me day by day. The time came to change gift baby's placement goal. Fostercare adoption isn't linear. It isn't easy. In one instant they are going to be yours forever, and the next the could be ripped from your arms. This caused us to deny the depth of our feelings for him, but it was something we naively thought we might avoid. When this possibility reared its ugly head at us things really changed. That's when we had to be really honest with ourselves. Until that point it had been easy for both of us to pretend that we could go back to "normal" if baby boy left us. Facing this reality caused us to realize that things were never going to be the same. The boys and I especially, would grieve a lost child if he were to go. The idea caused my heart to twist and palpitate in my chest.
We sat on seat edge for two weeks waiting to find out if he would be staying or going. During that time, I tried to distance my heart from his and couldn't. Instead he became even more a part of me. I was sleepless, praying in my bed, as shadows washed over me, for the strength to follow His plan. Questioning Him, "why would you do this to us? I don't understand why." Then the day came when I found out what was really happening (can't wait to tell you all some day). The social worker gave me a speech on timing, the time line, and the legalities currently being adhered too. As the social worker explained to me what was going on, and what her goals for him were I realized I could have slept well if I had a little more faith. Not because she was telling me what I had longed to hear, "he is absolutely yours." No. I realized, who am I to question "the Plan"? His timing is perfect, it isn't my timing. I don't get what I want when I want it. I get what I need when I need it. We needed to have that epiphany right now. We needed a reality check. We needed to come together. I needed to understand that I am not in control. That I need to let go and trust God to do his thing. That is HUGE for me! I grew from knowledge to understanding through experience. It is a dangerous thing indeed to mistake knowledge for understanding, and humbling to realize that is exactly what you have done.
We love him. He is ours (for sure right now, but I hope forever). We love him. I literally feel as if he has been birthed through me these last few weeks. Hearing his voice cause me to swell to bursting with joy. Witnessing him experience life makes me feel so lucky, so blessed. It is a privilege, I am proud of him, and proud to be thought of as his mother. I can't explain how this bond builds just yet. It as strong as my bond with the other boys. He will always be a part of us, and us a part of him. No matter what. I am thankful. I am so incredibly thankful. The last few months have humbled me beyond measure, and taught me that in my darkest moments I have the most to be thankful for. I have experienced that in darkness God truly is working the most in me and for me. I had knowledge of that truth before this, but I did not understand. I have experienced that God really is good all the time. I have experienced God. Again. This time more beautifully and fully than I could imagine. I am but a speck, and yet he carefully tends my every need. He often does this in spite of my moaning and lack of gratitude.
It has also taught me that I need to listen more carefully to that still small voice inside of me when it shares the good as well as the bad. How many times do we look in on possibilities, as if we are standing in the doorway to a room filled with joyful strangers, horrified to step in, but desperately longing to? That little voice that says, "you can do this. This would be good for you." often gets ignored while we listen to all the reasons we can't or shouldn't. How long have we spend languishing in doorways? Don't listen to that negative voice (unless you are planning to take a barrel of Niagara Falls, then listen to it) telling you why you can't. Take the step, and trust in God's timing.
In either Sand and Foam or Tear and a Smile, Kahlil GIbran compares some love to two mists meeting on a lake. Once they unite, they become one. Your love for Kayden is like that.
ReplyDelete