Do you want to know what I did last night? After my sons fell asleep? I stayed up later than I should have and I
watched them sleep. Our days have been
so hurried. We have recently moved, and everything has changed. It’s just dawning on all of us that this
isn’t some crazy extended summer.
So, I sat and I watched them breathe. Their faces were
relaxed, hardly an eyelash fluttered. I
said a silent prayer of thanks that they are mine. As an adoptive Mom, that joy is never
completely separate from another woman’s heartache. It is a hard place to stand.
Evan is 9 now, and Ben 13.
For a brief, unbearable moment, I wondered what would have happened to
them if they hadn’t come home. If I had
not chosen them, would they still be orphans?
The future of an orphan is bleak.
Medical care and education is minimal.
Would Ben still be
the happy go-lucky kid he is, or would his sweetness have made him the perfect prey
for larger, rougher children?
And Evan… my sweet
Evan… Evan came to me tough-as-nails at six
years old. Six year-olds in the States
hover between baby and student, still clinging to their mothers. Evan’s crash would have been inevitable and
very, very unpleasant.
These are my children.
They were mine the day I said, “Yes, I want to adopt them.” The idea that Ben spent any time alone,
wrapped in a blanket at 7 days old, waiting to be discovered, horrifies
me. I cannot imagine how scared Evan
must have been at three when he was left alone outside of a city building. If your child has ever been missing for a
minute in a store, or come home later than expected, you know the feeling of
panic that ensues. That’s how I feel when I think of those moments when
anything could have happened to them.
As an adoptive parent, I know that there are hundreds of
thousands of children just like my sons, who were left alone. I can never Un-know that. It is overwhelming to know that. This is one of the reasons I am adopting
again.
I love being Mom, and I think – most days – I am pretty good
at it. I have worn many hats in my life,
but being Mommy was my most fervent wish.
It has lived up to my dreams, and then some. I know not everyone is called to parent, but
for me it is heaven even when it is hard.
There is nothing I have done in my life that brings the same
satisfaction. I am adopting again
because it is the finest thing I can do with the days and hours I have on this
Earth.
Finally, there is this boy – we have named him Dominic. I
knew in my heart that he was my son from the first time I saw his picture. He is 4, about to be 5, and does not know I
exist, yet. He doesn’t know he has two
brothers waiting for him.
He does know that there is a such thing as
Mommies. He knows that sometimes his
friends disappear suddenly to go “home” with them forever. He has asked when his Mommy will come. Even though he seems happy in his
institution, he knows he doesn’t belong there forever. He knows children get “chosen” by
families. He wonders when his turn will
come. I can’t wait for the day that I
can make this dream come true for him.
So, yes, I am adopting again. Perhaps I am a little crazy, but in a good
way. I know some people don’t
understand. That’s ok. Yes, I know I can’t adopt them all. But I can adopt this little boy. I
can’t wait to wrap my arms around my new son.
I can’t wait until Dominic knows, “Today is the day MY MOMMY is coming.” This is what I live for.
