when bloodline, biology, and borders are dismissed

My seven-year-old has been struggling with stomach pain for a few months now.  It had gotten to the point where the pain was waking him up in the middle of the night. I took him to the doctor and we determined that it is probably acid reflux.  The doctor started him on a temporary medication to see if it helps.

While out running errands with my dad, we sat in his car and discussed my son’s stomach issues.  My dad said, “You know….I wonder if he….oh my gosh….(grabs my arm)….I just started to say I wonder if he inherited any of our intestinal problems…I’m so stupid.  Can you believe that I almost said that?  That was so stupid.  I can’t believe I almost said that.” 

My response, “That just shows how natural adoption feels.  It was not stupid at all.”

I’ve thought about this conversation for a while now, and have decided that it demonstrates just a small part of the miracle of adoption and love.

Adoption is a miracle.  It shakes one up.  It stirs one’s heart.  It causes one to rethink the idea of what it feels to be family, to be related, to be eternally connected, and to be predestined in a life shared together.

When bloodline, borders, and biology are dismissed, all that remains is love in its most magnificent and miraculous form.  

 

My Teachable Moment

It was one of those moments that I wanted to get just right.  My son, age seven, popped into the car after school and said, “Mommy, I’m popular!”  I said, “Oh?”  “Yes, I’m popular!”, he said with excitement.

I paused for a moment and asked, “What makes you popular?”  He said, “You know…when you are good at things and people know you.”  I paused again, searching for words, and then said, “Well, you know being popular is not the most important thing in life.  Do you know what matters more than anything?”

In my mind, I was already rehearsing how loving others, being kind, sharing your gifts, not judging others, being a good friend, and being popular for being someone who causes others to feel accepted and loved, matters the most.  Until this time, being popular, getting picked on, and other social issues had not entered into his first grade existence at his smallish elementary school.  I had already decided that I was going to push person-hood before popularity.  This was a teachable moment opportunity, and I was not going to let it slip by!

I asked again, “Do you know what matters more than anything?”

In his sweet little voice, he said, “God.  God matters more than anything.”

Stunned, I sat there.  Smiled a bit, and gathered my thoughts.

I said, “You are right.  God matters more than anything, and you know, God wants us to be kind, generous, to be a good friend, to not judge, and to love others.”  He said, “I know, Mommy, I know.”

And there it was….

my teachable moment....

my gentle reminder….

my continual realization that while I have so much to teach my children,

in return,

they have more to teach me.375917_341839525907009_1617492878_n

 

 

however motherhood comes

While watching my oldest son compete in his last gymnastics competition of the year, my dad struck up a conversation with the lady sitting next to him. As usual, he bragged about his grandchildren.

As I was off taking pictures, the conversation between my dad and the lady turned into one about adoption. He learned that two out of her four children were adopted. When I returned to sit down, he shared about their conversation. As she and I sat and visited for a bit, I learned a brief history about her adoptions, and I shared a bit about mine.

Similar to new mothers sharing birthing stories, I found myself enjoying this kindred conversation. Both of us marveled at our sons. We both shared with joy in thinking about what our kids have accomplished given their difficult entries to our world. We also both expressed great gladness in being adoptive parents.

This experience reminded me of this quote by Valerie Harper,

“However motherhood comes to you, it’s a miracle.”

This day, I give praise for the miraculous, wonderful gift of motherhood.

Motherhood is a Gift

Over the past year or so, we have played the “I’m sorry” and “I’m thankful” game around the dinner table at meal times.  We take turns telling what we are thankful for, and apologizing for the things we have done during the week that might have hurt someone’s feelings, or broken a rule.

The great thing about this game is that we get to hear our children admit wrongdoings, even when we were not fully aware of them.  It is also nice to hear them say they are sorry.  Perhaps, though, the best lesson of all is that we can fully admit when we have done something wrong, made a bad choice, or have not been as patient as we should have been with our children, and each other.  This lesson is valuable for our children, and more importantly, it is humbling for us.

Recently during dinner, my daughter started the game, and we all went around and said sorry for the little things we did during the week that may have hurt each other’s feelings, or perhaps, caused more stress on our family unit.  After this, we went around and spoke about the things we were thankful for.

My son: “I’m thankful for my family and the food we have.”

The baby:  “…..some nodding of his head….” 

My husband: “I’m thankful that we have each other.”

Myself:  “I’m thankful that in this cold weather, we have a warm home to live in.”

My daughter:  “I’m thankful….(starts to tear up)….I’m thankful for mommy and daddy.” 

DtrI took another turn and said, “I’m thankful for having a daughter, and for this moment right now.” 

After I said this, my daughter took off running to her bedroom.  I left her alone in her room for a minute, and then decided to check on her.  I found her lying in her bed with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”  I asked.

“A long, long time ago when I was in my birth mom’s belly, I heard (our son) tell you that he will miss you if you die.”

As the tears came barreling down her cheeks, she said, “I will miss you if you die, and you are the best parents ever.”

My daughter has talked often about knowing us while in her birth mother’s belly.  I cannot even begin to comprehend what runs through an adopted child’s mind, or heart.

On the one side, it gives me great joy to think about the opportunities in life that are present and available when children are placed into families whose deepest desires are to bring in a child to love wholly, celebrate, and give life-changing open doors to.  On the other, and with a twinge of protective sadness, I think about just how much an adopted child wonders about their birth families, what life would have been like in their families of origin, and if they were loved by birth parents.

I do not have all of the answers, and will never have them.  Like most parents, I want the best for my children.  I want my children to be understood, nurtured by those around them, to passionately seek out the things in life that give laughter to their souls, and to be able to look back on life with a full measure of contentment.

As an adoptive parent, though, I recognize that there might always be an unfulfilled space where questions linger and thoughts go unrecognized.  In other words, I know that there could be an empty place in my children’s lives that can only be filled with answers to which I may never be able to give them.

Adoptive parenting is both joy and loss, and sweetness and sorrow at the same time.

I have seen that some people who are parents through adoption have revolted (if you want to call it that) against the word adoptive being in front of the word parent.  I get it.  To my children, I am not “Adoptive Mommy”,  I’m “Mommy”.  I am not “Adoptive Tear-Drier, Adoptive Cheerleader, and Adoptive Caretaker.”  I am tear-drier, cheerleader, and caretaker.

But, the truth is, my babies grew in another’s body.  The fact that they grew in another mother’s womb, and are being cared for by me as their mother, does not fall lightly in my thoughts.

I think it is a privilege and incredible honor to call myself an adoptive mother.

 It is not a subtitle, or secondary description.

Being an adoptive mother is profound.

It is the unique experience that lends one’s heart to the belief that our children were chosen for us, and we were chosen for them.

Today, while thinking about my children, I whispered this to the Lord,

“Thank you for these moments right now of being a parent.”

Motherhood is a gift.

Adoptive motherhood is even more of a gift, and for that, I am thankful.

The Case for Kids

I have run across some Facebook statuses, blog posts, and other humorous social media updates that point to all of the benefits of choosing a life free of the “burden” of parenting.  While I understand where the authors of these posts are coming from, and even, the convenience in many ways of not having children, I have weighed the benefits of a life with children versus one without.

My husband and I had the choice to pursue parenthood.  There would be no “accidental” pregnancies in our lives.  I am infertile.  He knew that going into our marriage.  This is something that would not change.  We also had the choice to pursue a life without children.  We could have stayed in our quaint two bedroom cobblestone front home, and traveled the world.  We could have spent our lives on a seemingly perpetual date.

We did not choose this, though.  We pursued adoption because we wanted to share in the experience of parenting.  Because of this, I’ve come up with some simple, and yet relevant, reasons why life with children (however they come to you) is the best thing ever.

Once you become a parent, 

  1. you begin to value the simple things in life. 
  2. you are suddenly thrust into a world of humility.
  3. you learn that there is nothing more satisfying than self-sacrifice.   
  4. you are gifted with simplistic examples of love.  
  5. you are reminded that grace is a gift freely given, and one that you need to work on giving.
  6. your life is enhanced in ways that you never thought was possible.  
  7. the artwork on the refrigerator is the most priceless piece of work you have ever seen.
  8. your own health becomes more important.  
  9. you are given the gift of multiple second chances by the same little humans who love you, need you, and whose life is dependent on you.
  10. you work harder, sleep less, and do not regret either of these.
  11. your heart; the one that has led your decisions throughout your life, is now being led, moved, and persuaded by the little beating hearts walking right next to you.
  12. you are reminded that each day brings a new opportunity to start again, learn something new, correct a bad habit, and let your imagine soar.
  13. you are surrounded by the opportunity to remember and embrace those magical moments of your own childhood.
  14. you are reminded of how hard your parents must have worked to raise you, provide for you, and give you a life of opportunity.  Or, in some situations, you are reminded of how void your childhood was; thus, you are being the change needed in the next generation of children in your family.
  15. you gain a simplistic and innocent sense of humor.  (All it takes in the mispronunciation of one word by your child, and suddenly, you are giggling.)
  16.  you know that the most important job you have is being a parent.  You defend it.  You protect it.  You speak up for it, and, you are proud of it.
  17. you know you are the most important person to your children, and by this, you are nearly overwhelmed with unspeakable love.
  18. you are greeted with happiness, told that you are loved, and freely given tokens of love on a daily basis.
  19. every moment of life, from going through a car wash to traveling to an adventurous destination, is filled with excitement and exhilaration.
  20. you begin to see glimpses of your own future, and you fight for it.  You whisper hope into the ears of your children.  You teach them to love without judgment, and dream without borders.  You tell them that the world is open for them, and to seize their dreams.  You long for them to embrace their own sense of the world, and yet, you hope they do not forget where home is.  

I used to think, or at least give off the impression, that life would be okay without children.  Deep down, though, I knew I was missing out.  I grieved for something to which I did not even fully understand.  I just knew that I did not want to enter into my Heavenly home with missing the valuable experience of being a parent.

When I see the Facebook statuses, blog posts, and other humorous social media updates that depict why a life without children is better than a life with children, I find myself defending the plight of parents, the needs of all of those babies who have made their way to our lives, and the hope of our future.  I could go on and on about the importance, hardship, yet joy of life with children.

As a child, I was not promised parenthood.  I actually never visualized it.  Instead, I hoped for it.  I prayed for it.  And now, at the age of forty-two and thinking through the past thirty-one years of my life, I cannot imagine not fighting for parenthood.

My friend, if you are reading this wondering if you should get pregnant,  pursue IVF, become a foster parent, adopt, or, if you should choose a life without children, I want to tell you that there is nothing more challenging, yet, more incredibly rewarding than being a parent.

I will never stop challenging those who consider children as less important in our world.  Sure, movies may be easier to watch, going out to eat might be a little more quiet, traveling may be relaxing and exotic, and you may have more down time to sleep in, and embrace your own hobbies, but this blogger, this parent, and this child of God, will always support the case for kids.

IMG_2576Sons are a heritage from the LORD, children a reward from him.  Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are sons born in one’s youth.  Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. They will not be put to shame when they contend with their enemies in the gate.  -Psalm 127: 3-5

Big Boys {words of advice from the mother of a little boy}

We had our typical New Year’s Eve meal of “little smokies”, veggies with dip, chips and queso, and Quiche tarts with our children to welcome in the New Year.  We talked about what our favorite parts of 2013 were, and what we were looking forward to in 2014.  The kids stayed up a little later than usual, but were still in bed by 9:00 pm.

Big BoyAs I was getting my 7-year-old son ready for bed, he said, “Now, I’m ready for my big boy stuff!”  By big boy stuff, he was referring to the mouthwash we bought him to assist with his dental care now that he has adult teeth.

As he turned around to show me how he could swish the mouthwash in his mouth, I noticed how small he still looks in his pajamas.  He said the words “big boy”, but in my mind and heart, he is still my little boy.

When he turned around to face the sink, I started to tear up just a bit.  Odd, I know.  Normally the vision of my children brushing their teeth does not cause me to cry, but this time, I took one look at him, and realized that another year has passed in raising this wonderful little boy.

The thought of releasing him to the world one of these days terrifies me.  Truly, the thought of releasing any of my children to the world is frightening.  Yet, I know that I am experiencing the same feelings my parents, my parents’ parents, and my parents’ grandparents must have felt.  With each passing of a New Year, I am brought a little closer to my children growing up, a little closer to the day when they will be out of the house, and a little closer to the day when they too will be navigating the journey of raising children.

I’m asking, on behalf of all mothers and fathers out there, for us to all stop and take a look around at the world we are leaving for our babies.  Those of us around my age and older remember a world free from technology, digital anything, texting, and searing statistics of broken families.  I wish I could bring my babes back to the world I grew up in – back to a world that seemed a little more kid friendly, or maybe even, safer.

Please don’t misunderstand me.  I know we live in a remarkable time.  Just the fact that I’m sitting here from my laptop in Southwest Missouri and sharing my thoughts that will reach other countries, is astonishing.  I know this.  As a mom though, I wonder where all of this is going.  Are we continuing down a path of technology marvel while pulling away from actual relationships?

My “big boy” in his slightly too-big Lego’s pajamas is not ready for the world.  I’m not ready to let him go.  I’m not ready for the times he comes home heart-broken over being picked on, turned down, or disappointed.  I fear the day he walks through the doors, nearly grown, and announces that he’s ready to move out.

Sometimes, I just want to roll back time, and hold him a little closer.  This part…this part of watching children grow up and become less dependent…is both wonderful and heart-breaking at the same time.  And yet, my children are still so young.  I suspect I will feel these emotions with each passing of the New Year.

As the mother of a little boy who thinks he is big (and of a little girl, and infant boy), I have a few words of advice that I would like to share with all of the Big Boys out there:

  1. We were not made to be the same.  The beauty of you, and your friends, is that each of you are uniquely created with talents, ambitions, and inclinations.  My son has quirks, talents, and struggles that make him who he is.  You will never see or even like my son the way that I do, but please, let him be who he is, and I’m pretty sure he will let you be who you are.
  2. Don’t do anything stupid.  Your mother loves you, and worries about you – even though you are bigger.  No matter your age, she will never stop.  Try to go easy on her.
  3. Your role as a man, brother, boyfriend, husband, uncle, father, or grandfather, is vital.  YOU are vital.  Your God-given role is equally important in the lives of children.  I have worked with many children who grieved for a relationship with a father.  Please don’t under-estimate how valuable you are in the lives of little big boys (and little big girls) in the world.
  4. Please know that little big boys look up to you.  They watch all that you do, and say, and they are impressed by it.  Try to make positive, life-affirming impressions on all of the little boys you come in contact with.
  5. Remember, you were once a little big boy.  Think about that.

I know I still have many more years to raise, train, discipline, and enjoy my children. I also know that parenting is a life-long venture.  As time passes, I see that moments of parenting go by quickly.  I will wake up one of these days to an empty home that is not filled with the busyness of children.  There will no longer be lunches to pack, school work to help with, middle of the night wake-up calls, or early morning bed jumpers.  There will just be me, my husband, and the memories of raising our children.

For now, though, I am going to sneak off and give my little big boy a kiss while he sleeps….

Worth It All

As November wrapped up and I was putting away our Thanksgiving decor, I thought about what an eventful month we had.  To be able to adopt a child in the month that is designated as National Adoption Month was a wonderful thing.  Recently, I was asked how I felt about adoption.  I’m not even sure I will ever find the words that truly describe how I feel about it.  My answer went something like this, “Adoption offered me the opportunity to parent my children, and in parenting, I am able to see glimpses of God’s grace and mercy.”

Maybe that is not the answer expected, or even understood, but it is one that I find myself returning to.  Of course, adoption means so many different things to me.  It has layers upon layers of meaning, but yet, I still come back to these two things:

GRACE and MERCY

Grace.  Parenting is grace in action.  It is a recipe made up of mistakes, successes, frustrations, celebrations, and growth for everyone involved.  Recently, I said to my daughter, “I’ve told you so many times not to do that.  Why are you still doing it?”  In the same breath after I said it, I felt a little jolt of the realization that I too have been told to not do things, and yet, I still do them.  Over and over.  Time after time.  Each day though, I wake up anew with the same thought that not only does my Heavenly Father love me, He also saturates my life with grace.

Mercy.  Adoption is mercy.  It is the collision of love, compassion, and the heart-felt yearning to devote one’s life to another.  It is the recognition that merciful love poured into all of our lives.  Merciful Love intervened.  It moved us to new places, and settled us into our places of belonging.  Through adoption, we are able to get a sweet taste of love that speaks, “Yes.  Yes, you.”

Our little boy with whom we adopted recently is thriving, happy, and very much-loved by all of us.  Since our son and daughter are also adopted, it was an awesome opportunity to teach them more about the process, and reasons behind it.  Throughout this experience, our children have learned that adoption, in many ways, involves sacrifice.  Our son and daughter both had to move to different rooms to accommodate for the baby. They both learned that mommy and daddy needed a little more time with the baby to meet his needs; which in turn, meant less time with them.

Big SisThey also learned that love was the motivator for helping out the baby who was in need. They knew that his birth parents were not able to take care of him, and that he needed somewhere to go.

In essence, they learned of grace and mercy.

I’m so thankful for this past year of our lives.  It has been a difficult one, but also one with enriching moments that included many valuable lessons.  Adoption has proven again that the Lord is truly faithful, especially during the times when I felt complete exhaustion and worry.BigBro

When asked my thoughts about adoption, I may continue to stumble over my words. Honestly, there are so many ways to describe it.

It is grace.  It is mercy.  It is love.  It is growth.  It is the notion that we are chosen.  It is sacrifice.  It is hard, and easy at the same time.  It is love.  It is incredible.  It is humbling.  It is redemptive.  It is compassion.

It is worth it all. 

The Blessing Jar {Part 2}

A little less than a year ago, we started a family project called “The Blessing Jar”. The idea behind it came from my oldest son’s desire to give change to people without money.  We decided to get a jar, start collecting change, and then give it away.  You can read my initial post about this by clicking on this link, The Blessing Jar.

Throughout the year, I didn’t put any pressure on the kids to donate to the jar.  If they found, earned, or were given money, I asked them, “What do you want to do with it?”  I was surprised how often they wanted to throw it in the jar.

Blessing 1Last weekend, we decided it was time to take our jar of change, get it counted up, and donate it.  The jar was not full, but it seemed appropriate for us to do something like this the weekend before we celebrate Thanksgiving.

After all, our family has so much to be thankful for.

We have a warm home, food to eat, and each other.  What more could we ask for?

I started talking to my kids the week before about what to do with the money.  We talked about different options, and they both kept going back to giving money to people who do not have any food.  As a matter of fact, earlier in the week during an outing to the local mall, my daughter grabbed a handful of change and started sprinting towards the guy ringing the Salvation Army Bell.  She said, “Mommy, he’s ringing the bell.  That means he’s hungry.”  She quickly put money in the kettle.  I later explained that the young man was helping others who are hungry by ringing the bell.

We decided that the money would go to a local group called “The Gathering Tree”. This group, started by a doctor and his wife, feeds the homeless in our community, and is a very grass-roots effort with volunteers cooking the food, serving it, and offering support to those who show up.  A  friend of mine is very involved with the group, and has witnessed the heart-breaking stories of many of the souls who walk through the doors.

Thankfully, there are lots of organizations in our community that help out the homeless and down-trodden.  We decided on this group because it is solely a volunteer-based organization.  I have also heard that the volunteers do not ask questions, or judge whoever walks in needing a warm meal.  There are not any qualifying or conditional factors like a lot of programs.  They offer support and resources, and always say Grace before each meal.

Since my husband and I are both involved in social work, I understand the need for rules and policies for social programs.  At the end of the day though, there are still people who are starving, cold, and in need of companionship.  There are still people who just need a kind word, a non-judgmental look, the touch of another human, and a feeling of belonging somewhere….anywhere.  This is one of the reasons why I suggested the group to my children.

From what I have heard, they are people who simply love other people and want or need or feel compelled, whatever you want to call it, to bring a little comfort to the forgotten, desperate, or needy.

Pure. Simple. Love.

I told the kids that when we got there, they would see people who do not have homes.  They might even see children there, too.  When we walked in, we were greeted by my friend who went to get the founders of the group.  Both of my kids stood there for a while, taking it all in.  My son kept staring at all of the people huddled around eating food.

Soon, a red-headed, freckled face little boy with an over-sized coat and a little girl with a dirty face, came right up next to our family.  Both of my kids just stood there quietly.  Every once in a while, they would head into the children’s area and play with a few toys, but mostly, they stayed close to us.

The founders of the group greeted us and I explained the Blessing Jar to them.  Soon, the wife got down on my children’s level, and with tears in her eyes, graciously thanked them for the $32.00 dollars they donated.  She explained what can be done with the money, and how it can help.

Blessing Jar 2Thirty-two dollars from two little ones who had no idea the gravity of the gift they gave.

Thirty-two dollars given with the innocent hope that goodness will come out of it.

After a few tears, and hugs, we left the building and escaped back to our car and warm home.  As I was tucking my son into bed, he said, “Mom, she had a rip in her clothes, and that boy’s jacket was way too big.”  I just listened.  He then went on to ask, “What if that boy doesn’t have a mommy and daddy?  What will happen to him?”  I said, “If he didn’t have a mommy or daddy, the people there helping out would make sure that he was somewhere he would be taken care of by a mommy and daddy.”

My son thought for a moment, and then said, “Like a foster home?  Kinda like what we did for baby…?”  I said, “Yes, kind of, but that little boy does have a mommy, and the coat may be too big, but at least he has a coat.”  As he was snuggling into his warm bed, I asked him if he wanted to save money in the Blessing Jar again. He said, “Yes.”  I kissed him goodnight, and my heart swelled.

The next day as we were getting into the car, he spotted a quarter that had fallen down in-between the seats.  He quickly pointed out that it needed to go in the Blessing Jar!  Our jar is empty now with the exception of a couple of quarters the children have already added, but hopefully it will start to fill up as the year goes on.

I have learned as a parent that it does not take a lot of effort to teach children about grace, generosity, giving, and loving others. Sometimes, children can teach these things better than any adult on any given day.  We just need to stop long enough to hear their hearts speak through their actions, concerns, and musings of life.Blessing Jar3

Our little Blessing Jar has blessed us in return.

There is great joy that comes when generosity and life-lessons collide.

Indeed.

“In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ ” – Acts 20:35

Here’s to Adoption

NOVEMBER IS DESIGNATED AS A MONTH OF THANKSGIVING, AND CELEBRATING ADOPTION.  

Last year, I published a new post each day with poems, stories, and information about adoption.  This year, I’d like to focus this month with how adoption has created a greater sense of thankfulness in my life.  I’d like to do so with images of moments in my children’s lives.

Here are some images of my son from his first gymnastics meet last Spring.  He was 6-yrs-old at the time.  This meet was a “practice” one since he was too young to compete in the regular meets.  

Hunter Bailey 36

In December, we start traveling for his competitions, and I can hardly wait to watch him.  I’m so proud of the hard work he puts in, and the determination he has to continue perfecting the sport – all of this at the age of 7.
Hunter Bailey 22

Another thing, that always seems to stir my heart a bit while watching him, is the thought that all of this may not have been possible for him had he not been adopted.  Please do not get me wrong…I know the ideal situation is for children to stay with their birth parents.  Parents should be able and willing to care for them, make wise choices, remain substance free, and provide the stability that every child desires, and deserves.

However, in foster care/adoption situations such as my son’s, the plan to reunify with birth family changed to adoption.  I know in my heart that his birth parents longed to provide him what he needed, and truly wanted to raise their son, but they could not.  I also know that his life would have been tragically different had he remained in the environment to which he was born.
Hunter Bailey 43

I believe that our paths were created to cross with a fierce, all-knowing, and powerful love that comes from a Heavenly Father who doesn’t forget a single child; even when others do.

I am so thankful for this. 
Hunter Bailey 3So, here’s to adoption.  Here’s to the incredible opportunities that exist because of it.  Here’s to the multitude of orphans who have landed in a soft spot called home.  Here’s to the birth parents who choose adoption.  Here’s to the case workers, attorneys, juvenile officials, and judges who work tirelessly for the well-being of children.

Here’s to the families, such as mine and many others I know, who took the biggest leap of faith when they signed on the dotted line to become foster and foster/adoptive parents.  Here’s to the moments, such as the ones shown in this post, that provide parents, grandparents, and children with memories that last a lifetime.  I am so thankful for these.

Hunter Bailey 31And, here’s to the children who wait for families to call their own.  Here’s to their hopes, dreams, and longings to belong, and to have a mom, dad, grandparents, siblings, and just about anyone else who will stay with them – forever.

Here’s to the miraculous, and hope-filled journey that is adoption.

Love Changes Lives (Happy Birthday, Son)

Happy 7th Birthday, Son.

The night you were born was beautiful.  Your birth mother wailed in agony of labor pains, while I laid in my bed wallowing in my own kind of labor pains.  There was beauty in both of these moments.  One was painted with strokes of joy, while the other, strokes of despair; and yet, both were beautiful.  I did not know that my tearful prayer that night collided with the birth of you.

Two days later, we were asked to take you in.  Two days later, I held you for the first time.  I cannot think of anything more amazing than that.photo (5)

Love knows no boundaries, no genetic markers, no birthing, and no blood lines.  Love takes hold of opportunities and transforms them into beauty.

Before there was you, it was just me and my infertility.  Before you, my heart was only half-developed. Before there was you, I only knew one layer of love.

Love grabbed a hold of me the first time I saw you…instantly.

In an instant, I was separated from infertility for the first time in more years than I can remember.  For the first time, I felt whole.  For the first time, I also felt complete fear.  I feared loving and losing you.

I wished I would have been there the day you were born.  I wished I could have heard your first cry, held you while you welcomed Earthly air into your lungs, and whispered loving words to both you and your birth mother.  I would have been there had I known your circumstances.  I would have stood by your birth mother as she was told she would leave the hospital without you.  I would have done this because I honor her, and I love you.

I prayed for you the entire time we were fostering you.  I petitioned the Lord on your behalf, and on your birth mother’s.  How could I love you, and not want your birth mother to experience the same kind of love?  How could I look at myself in the mirror everyday knowing that I had been gifted with you, and not for one moment, want the best for her?  How could I allow love to overfill my heart, and not have any leftover for her?

Happy 7th Birthday, Son.  Love took a hold of me the moment I saw you.  

Love still takes hold of us.  It tempers us in our moments of frustration.  It claims us in our times of messes.  It wraps around us in our seasons of sadness.  Love holds us together in our moments of hardship, and it leaps with us in our times of joy.

picture 40Love seizes my heart time and again when thinking of you.  I happen to believe you are one of the most endearing, unique, and important little boys that has ever existed.  You are wonderfully ambitious, loving, spirited, and an incredible child of God.  Please don’t forget how beautiful, and deeply loved you are.

I don’t consider these past seven years to be lucky ones.  They are much more than that.  I consider them to be ones that have proven that nothing compares to the capacity that love has to intervene in our lives.

Happy 7th Birthday, Son.  You’ve given us seven amazingly beautiful years.

Love knows no boundaries.  It does not comprehend genetic markers.  It has no birthing or blood lines necessary.

Love truly takes hold of opportunities and transforms them into beauty.

Love changes lives.