So our home study update was quick and easy, which are two adjectives I don't think I have ever been able to use in this process...
The phone call with the program coordinator has yet to happen. I am a little frustrated by this, but I have a feeling that it is not going to be any new news anyways. Maybe she has not called because she is so busy with new referrals or something. Wishful thinking, but hey.
So, yesterday was Mother's Day. A day that can be hard for many, including but not limited to those who are struggling with infertility or grieving the loss of a child, those that are on an adoption journey, daughters that are missing a mother who has died or who they have never been close with... Just like Valentine's Day is not a single person's most favorite day of the year.
My Mother's Day was good, largely due to the fact that I do have a little girl that lights up my world every day. She told me "Happy Mother's Day" about 50 times yesterday, each time accompanied by a hug and/or kiss... no exaggeration there! About 40 of those instances happened in the hour between when we got home and when she went to bed. I think she was a tad delirious. I also have a Mom and mother-in-law to celebrate. I got to see my mother-in-law yesterday and I will see my Mom in just a few days, so it was good. I did, however, feel that all-too-familiar aching that has become an expected part of this adoption journey for me.
Anyone that is at any point in the adoption process is probably familiar with the mysterious longing that is always present. Mysterious, in that one does not expect to so badly desire to be with someone that they haven't ever met or know anything about. I knew it would happen after we receive a referral, which is still potentially months away. But now? Prior to starting this journey, the only ones I have so desired to physically see and hold that I had not met were my daughter (as she was in the womb) and my Savior, Jesus Christ. I only had to wait nine months to hold Brielle, and even fewer months than that to get my first glimpse of her in an ultrasound. It is laughable to think that my time being pregnant felt like forever as I impatiently waited to have her in my arms. For my next child I have been "expecting" now for over 17 months and counting. Oh, perspective.
I will be homesick for Heaven (the only place of perfection, where there is no pain, no tears, no corruption) to see Jesus until my time on earth is finished, and now I am in a sense homesick for the DRCongo (the poorest country in the world, where corruption, disease, starvation, sexual and physical violence run rampant... where orphans overflow from the orphanages and vulnerable children are living on the streets) because in that broken country sleeps my child(ren). I find it ironic that the two places I desire to go are polar opposites in how they can be described. I also find it awesome that the powers ruling these two places collide when Christians, citizens of Heaven, who have Christ in them through the power of the Holy Spirit, invade the darkness to show the abandoned that they are indeed treasured and loved. That is, after all, what we are called to do: Shine the light of Christ wherever we go, freely lavishing the love and hope He has given us onto others.
That ache in my heart that has become so familiar to me was particularly painful as I desired to have our Congolese child(ren) in my arms celebrating this Mother’s Day with us as we got up early and prepared for a three hour drive to surprise my mother-in-law and everyone at our church that we had to leave almost three months ago when we moved to Birmingham. As I often do, I imagine what life will be like with him/her/them here, which is sometimes tricky and vague since our preferences are so unspecific: Up to two, boys or girls, infant to 4 years old. While some adoptive families are requesting an infant girl or an infant boy (and if you are, that is wonderful! It just isn't what we were called to specify), painting the nursery and filling it with age and gender appropriate things, we have nothing to do but focus on what God would have us do right now in the other areas of our lives, pray, and wait for that glorious day that we receive a referral. Will it be one boy, or a girl? Will he or she be a year old, or two or three or four? Or is it God's plan to grow our family by two? If so, will it be two boys or two girls, or one of each? Will they be the same age, or will one be an infant while the other is 2 or 3 or 4? As you can see, there is such a wide variety of possibilities. This makes my longing all the more mysterious to me.
So why was yesterday particularly painful? Because Mother's Day one year ago we were five months into our anticipated timeline of a 12-14 month adoption process. I knew we had hit some setbacks but I assumed the timeline wouldn't change as drastically as it has. As a result of my naivete, I entertained the thought of, "This time next year, he/she/they will be home with us. I will go from a mother of one to possibly three between now and then!" Oh, how excited I was.
Speaking of being "a mother of one"... Despite the constant longing for my child(ren) I have yet to meet, I am reminded daily of the beauty and joy I have in raising this little 5 year old blessing that calls me her Mommy. She loves hugs and kisses and cuddles. She has a huge heart for God, her family and friends, animals, and dressing up. (Speaking of animals, she has a ladybug sleeping in a mason jar in her dollhouse right now. She's quite the literal princess, so she has named her new pet "Lady." Much like the stuffed zebra she is sleeping with is named "Zeebie.") This little girl begs me to lie in bed beside her "for just one minute" every single night after story, prayer, and lullabies are over. She wants to be around me so much that she will sneak into bed next to me most nights between the hours of 4 and 6 a.m, and I love it. She showers me with countless hugs and kisses every day and not a day goes by that isn't full of smiles and laughter because of the things she says and does.
Amidst those hugs, she has been saying something that confuses me lately. A lot, like usually once daily for the past few months she does this. She will wrap her sweet little arms around me, squeeze me tightly, and say, “You’re the first Mom I ever loved.” It wasn't until yesterday that I realized something about this statement that hasn't ever made much sense to me... I mean, of course I'm the first Mom she's ever loved! And I hope to be the one and only!
And then the realization hit me like a ton of bricks: My adopted children have a first Mom, and they love her. I won't be the first Mom they ever loved.
They might be with their first Mom now, loving her from either in her womb or while sleeping on her
chest.
They may be toddlers with their first Mom, loving her as she is doing her best to care for them as she is on the brink of starving to death.
They might be preschool age, heartbroken and desperately longing for her as they have just been dropped off at the orphanage by a
grandmother who cannot afford to keep them. She took them in last year when
their Mom, who had been abandoned by their father before they were even born, died
of AIDS but had loved them with all her heart until her last breath. They loved her
back, and they will until they take theirs.
They might be loving their first Mom as she abuses them because they remind her of the
brutal rapes she has been through. She too was abused as a child, and her heart hardened because loving had left her too vulnerable. She may withhold love from them, but
they are not capable of withholding their love from her.
There are obviously a hundred different scenarios I could paint regarding our child(ren) and his/her/their birth mother, all possibilities based on what I have read concerning the horrific conditions that are creating orphans daily. Even after this journey to end the status of "orphan" for one or two children, there is no guarantee that we will know for certain what happened to the birth mom that resulted in them being abandoned. We started this journey assuming that they will be orphans because the birth mom has died of disease, famine, or violence/war, the three reasons the country has such a huge orphan crisis right now. It was not until I started reading other DRC adoption blogs that I realized it is sorta common for the birth mom to not only be alive but for the adopting family to meet her at some point during their stay in country.
Ultimately, regardless of their
situation, I will not be the first Mom they've ever loved. I may be the second,
or even the third as most orphans bond with their caregiver in the orphanage. But that is ok with me. Eventually, they will love me too… and even before they love me, I will love them. Because I already
do.
So my heart is heavy for all the "first moms" across the world that have made/ are making/ will make the agonizing decision to give their children up for adoption. And my heart is heavy that, because this world we live in is so broken and messed up, children sometimes need second or third or fourth Moms. I am grateful, however, that God has chosen me to mother as many of them as He wills.
