Tuesday, December 7, 2010

My heart

I'm not sure how to write this, how to make sure exactly what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling gets expressed clearly on this page. If you can read through one of my posts, congratulations for being able to follow the many disconjointed thoughts of my mind. But I'm going to try.

I have so much to say, so many thoughts, on so many subjects. I sit to write on this blog almost every night, but then am unable to assemble my thoughts into anything coherent and give up. Or, I just start crying. What a process this adoption has been. What a world to live in where your eyes and heart are open to all of the realities that you already knew existed in this world. If you know me, you already know what an emotional wreak I can quickly and easily become. How I become emotionally involved in peoples lives who I barely know, never mind my friends and family. How I form relationships in my heart with not only characters in movies, TV shows, and books, but commercials and single page ads. Now imagine my heart after reading all profiles on waiting children all over the world, profiles of parents on their adoption journeys, accounts of what they have encountered and seen while visiting with their children at in their country of birth. Not even just that, but about what happens to children right here in homes in North America.

Then on the flip side seeing photos, videos, reading wonderful and amazing stories about these little angels who were written off before their new Mommy's and Daddy's came to bring them home. Some of these children, 4 years old in baby carriers because they are so tiny. Learning to swallow, eat, sit, roll, stand, and more. Children finally being given a chance to be able to feed themselves, to eat at their own pace, and to learn what a full tummy feels like. The happiness, joy, pride, hope, excitement...all lead me to tears.

The little ones who have so many issues, and are so involved that they remind me of Destiny, and or our little man. Then I start missing my sweet angels, and remember just how empty my arms are without them.

And then our little Kameron. A beautiful girl who EVERY describes as always happy, who deserves so much more then she has had in this life. In the last year she has sat and watched at least 2 of the little girls in her groupa, her friends, her sisters, have families come and visit with them daily. Families who bring gifts, and snacks, and spend time with hugs and kisses and undivided attention, for weeks. And then her friends left, went with their new families to live their new lives, and she was left behind. Of course I know that this has happened because she is our daughter and she is waiting for us to go and get her. She is waiting for it to be her turn to have a family come and visit with her everyday for weeks and then take her home. I also know that everything happen just as it is meant to, so I don't need to be told or reminded. None of this helps when I think about how she just spent her 6th birthday still technically an orphan. How she will be spending her 7th Christmas without knowing a family Christmas celebration. She should have been home with us already. She should be learning what the "Buster Brown Pie" is. She should be waking up with her little sister in the morning and coming to snuggle with us in bed. I should be hanging her stocking with the rest of them, waiting for Santa to come and fill it up. And these are the thoughts that I am thinking on top of the other regular thoughts of, how are we going to communicate with her, how are we going to teach her English, will she like the cats, will she get along well with her sister, will her little sister play nice with her, and a new one of will we be home before her new cousin is born or not. And then there is the other side of the worry spectrum. Will she be able to stay at the baby house until we arrive, will she still be a happy child by the time we get there or has she been forced to wait for to long, will she forgive us for taking so long to get to her, will she be happy that we have come to make her a part of our family, will we get enough information about her to help us when we get home in regards to her medical needs, will we have any issues finding all of the supports that we may need for her when we get home, court - I'm always worried about court for some reason. And then there is the area that I try to stop my mind from wondering into, the whole what if she is transferred section. Will she go to a children's house or to an institution? How would she make out there, as one of the smallest, and a child who is already behind in some if not all aspect of her development, will someone take care of her, will someone love her, will someone protect her, what about when that someone isn't looking or isn't working? Will she fall prey to bully kids or horrid adults?

Not being with her breaks my heart. I always wondered how people could stand to adopt from Haiti. Being given a referral, knowing who your child is, being able to receive updates, but having to wait for months and years to be able to bring them home. It seemed to me that the knowing and waiting would make the process feel as if it was taking a thousand times longer then it was (although we are talking about Haiti here, so it may have actually been taking that long). Silly me always thought that going to an Eastern European country would save us from that torture, I guess that joke is on me. I flip through all of the photos that I have been blessed with and my heart swells as I dream or the day that we will finally meet, of the judge saying that we are her parents, of walking away on Gotcha Day together hand in hand to our new life together, of boarding a plane with her to bring her home, of meeting up with whoever is at the airport after our long absence from home, of walking into our home - her new and forever home for the first time, showing her her new own room - and the extra bed in her sister's room should she like to sleep there instead. Dreaming of what it will be like to have her understand that we are there for HER, of her little arms wrapped around my neck in a big hug, or what her voice will sound like, of her calling me Momma and one day having meaning behind that title, of seeing her understand that we are her forever family - no matter what, seeing her light up at the holidays as she learns our family's traditions and how much fun they can be.

It is about 2:30 in the morning right now. It would be about 9:30 am where Miss K is right now, really that's just a random thought. When ever I really look to see what time it is, I count to see what time it is where she is. Our little girl is always asking what her sister is doing through out the day, when we are going to go and get her, if she will be allowed to play too, why her sister is not home yet. Back to the original thought though, the current time. There has been a lot of talk lately about knowing what we know about the "injustice" in the world, but being able to sleep easy at night. I don't sleep easy. Perhaps it is the sheer volume of thoughts going through my head, or the subject of much of it I'm not really sure, but I don't sleep easy. I'm up until I can't stay awake any longer, then I go to bed - generally because I know that without any sleep I will be no good at being a Mom to my treasure the next day - falling asleep instantly, without dreams or with crazy wild dreams about what I have seen, what I know, what I dream about doing about all of this. Some times my dreams are much more exhausting then my time awake.

I think it is time now to wrap this post up. Before it gets any longer or takes a turn to one of the other, many thoughts running through my brain. I have NOT reread this, nor do I reread any of my post before I publish them (see, now you're all saying "aha!, I get it now"), so I do hope that I was able to let you into this one small section of my self, the part that revolves around our new daughter and other children in similar situations as she is right now. This is in NO way all of my thoughts about any of this, but it is my attempt at being honest and staying on one subject.

Blessings to all, you may need it if you just read through all of my ramblings;)

1 comment:

  1. Sarah, I understand exactly how you feel. I tend to be a worrier myself, when others say don't worry God has this, even though I know He does, I still worry. The only difference is that Paisley is only almost 2 and not 6 like your Miss K,so she hasn't had to form as many coping mechanisms as Kameron has, but she is still little and has no one to kiss and hug her like they should when she is hurt, or afraid, or sick. Just wanted you to know that I'm right there with you sister. Although most of our story right now is written with a worried heart our endings will be full of hope and love. I believe that with all my heart. Take care and go buy some Tylenol PM :) Love ya!

    Love wins,
    Renee Tam