I realize I don't post a lot about our youngest middle child, and it's not that I'm not crazy about him and I'm not out of this world proud of him... it isn't anything like that. But here's the deal - he is adopted, and that ultimately is his story to tell, not mine, and there are parts of his story that we don't even even all know yet, or may ever know. And it's my job to honor that, protect that, and help him best process and live that all in a time frame, way, and manner best suited for him.
I decided long ago that that curtain is a little more closed and a lot more protected than most of the other parts of my life, which I do openly write and share about often. This part of my life is often hard, jaded, and jagged. The good that is there, is often surrounded by hard and ugly. I have to be on, I have to be my best me possible at all times. It's a struggle, a challenge, and a blessing. I cannot have babies of my own, and someone else choose me, choose our family, and gently handed over her crying baby, her own DNA coursing through him, into my arms as the tears streamed down her cheeks. In that moment, she allowed me to become a mom, and the strength and sacrifice of that woman changed the trajectory of my life, my family's life, that child's life forever. There will never be words that can fully and properly express and encompass that reality.
But that day, that moment of placement also wasn't the final chapter to our adoption story. That was only the very very beginning. Adoption does not end at placement... adoption does not end when you drive away from the hospital or adoption agency. There is a lifetime of ups and downs just beginning on that emotional day.
Yes, we brought him home from the hospital, yes our home was the home he was brought home to first... but that does not change that my womb was not where he spent the first nine months of his life. His first 270 days of life were within the secret and sacred recesses of his birthmom. He had a bond to her physically and mentally, he was entirely dependent on her and her choices. He would suffer grief and loss after being placed in my arms. He would deal with attachment issues amid a myriad of other causalities that he would be affected by and need to process and work through, both good and bad, through the remainder of his days. All adoption is bittersweet, as all adoption comes through some form of loss.
Ten year ago today we were in the peak emotional stages of waiting, of wondering, of worrying. Ten years ago today we knew there was a mother in labor, soon to give birth to a baby boy, and we knew that both of our worlds potentially were at the precipice of great change.
Ten years ago. Double digits. 3,530 days ago.
The last ten years have been a wild ride for me. An intense game of life - extreme highs and lows, ups and downs, trials and rewards. Of trying to get ahead while simply always being five steps behind, of never knowing what to expect, of never knowing what was going to be thrown at us next, of never knowing how deep and wide and endless a love and bond could be with a child who does in fact not have any of your own DNA coursing through him. And yet, he is mine. He is very much mine, ours... and the intensity of the mama bear that comes out from within me sometimes when that is challenged or he needs protecting almost scares me.
With his aging of course comes my own aging, and the progression of my own journey, my own story. Ten years ago today I went home from lunch from the corporate america job I was at, received a message our birthmom was in labor, and I decided not to go back to work that afternoon. I called in sick the following days as we waited and wondered what was going to become of this grand tale that was basically falling apart in front of us, unraveling at a pace we couldn't keep up with or process completely. Days later, official papers finally became signed, and in time the ticking hours closed and the timetable for change was officially over.
My intent never was to not return to work, but as I was on my unpaid leave I found myself increasingly overwhelmed and weary as we worked to adjust to life with this colicky fussy crying little one now in our lives. In time it was quite clear that I needed to at least attempt to stay home for a while with him... I said goodbye to my corporate america job that I'd had for fifteen years. I launched into motherhood and a small cake decorating business now turned full time with gusto and desperation.
After five years we would enroll him in kindergarten and God would open a door at our church to join the staff as a part time Communications Manager. In time I would add on the responsibilities of Facility Manager as well. During that time my husband would have major back surgery, we would lose Faith, my husband would start his own business, and our oldest would head to college, move out, and enter into adulthood. We found a campground we fell in love with, invested in a new camper, and unexpectedly found a community of friends who would surround us with love and support like we had never known before.
And now on the eve of this not-so-little ones double digit birthday, almost ten years to the day later, I find God has granted me yet another unexpected opportunity to return to that corporate america job back into that same quirky and gloriously loyal and talented art dept. It was a whisper I wasn't expecting to hear, but one that I did decide to faithfully at least be open to listening to.
Ten years, minus two days I walked back into the building, back up to the third floor, around the corner into the art department. Home... it was almost like returning home, and I couldn't help but smile. So much had changed, while so much had stayed the same. So much in my life had changed, so much in the life of the company had changed, and yet... it all still felt so natural and so good to return to.
I'm always a little sappy and nostalgic on days like these... remembering the waiting and the wondering and the emotions of all that went along with the adoption process - the two years of waiting to be chosen, the days and days of waiting after he was born and not sure what would actually happen, the emotions of seeing him for the first time, holding him, having him placed in my arms, attempting to thank a woman for this gift of life, gift of motherhood, gift of family. Remembering the days and months that followed and the transitions that would also follow...
And of course we would be full circle ten years later - that is just exactly how God works isn't it? I look over as he sleeps snuggled on his dads pillow next to me, his dear dear blankie wrapped around his neck, his energy and anxieties all resting soundlessly. I smile at the life I've been given, the gifts I've been blessed with... the story and journey granted to me. Life has not always been easy, and will continue to be filled with rocky bumpy roads, I have no doubt. But if given the chance, I would not change a thing. Every day, every situation, every loss, every gain, every celebration, every moment is a building block in the staircase of my life. Ever so slowly I am continuing to climb higher and higher, closer and closer to my final day when I will finally say my earthly farewells and turn and take one last step upward ... right into Heaven.
Of course I don't hope this final step is any time soon, but I am grateful for the firm foundation beneath me, the ever growing staircase my journey is building, bringing me higher and higher, closer and closer.
It's easy to get lost in the day-to-day. I'm guilty of it myself, almost every single day in fact. Which is why again I am so grateful for these big moments like this one, to give me time to pause, reflect, remember, rejoice and simply give thanks.
Double digits little man - wow! I sure am glad it is our family you've gotten to spend the last 3,648 days with! And I can't wait to see what the next 3,648 will all bring us!
{ Previous blog post "Grace Race" HERE. }
{ Next blog post "What If I Don't Finish?" HERE }
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