Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss

Nobody tells you how hard this day is.

At 6:30 in the morning, years ago, I was in the garage putting on my shoes, almost in the car on my second to last day of substitute teaching.  I stopped because the phone rang. I answered.  "Kim, she's in labor.  Baby is coming today!!"

I paced and paced and called and cleaned and sat and then stood up again....didn't even bother with teaching that day.  It was a day of pure elation.  Today was the day.  The day I never knew if it would exist.  The day that would make me a mom because of someone else's decision.

And so on the way to the hospital, we stopped for flowers and held hands and smiled as we searched out the room and there she was. Perfect.  Wrapped tightly in those hospital blankets with a little pink hat probably knit by some random, charitable grandma.  She wasn't even one of those babies that is cute simply because she was a baby.  She was beautiful. No squished up little face just round and pink and lovely.

This day was amazing.  I would live it again and again.  But no one prepared me for the other feelings.  The one's that came when I saw a teenage mom with swollen eyes and my heart checked.  The one where a would-be grandma was consoled in the corner as she answered phone calls from friends and family who would never come to the hospital for a reunion.  I felt her loss, too.  Maybe even more because she knew what the word "mother" meant.   The feelings of jealousy as I watched someone else change her and feed her and hold her and kiss her.  The desperate unspoken fears of "What if she changes her mind??

Or when I walked into the hospital with an empty car seat, watched this young woman/girl slowly ride in a wheelchair to the front door, red-faced and crying, cherishing those last moments, handing her baby over, getting in a car, driving away....as I stood their holding HER baby and an empty car seat.

No one told me to expect this to be so hard.  No one said that this day, THE day, would also be one of the hardest.  It wouldn't feel like a Gotcha Day, but more like I Stole Ya Day.

I have lived this day now four times.

I was emotional even in the anticipation of today, knowing the duality of feelings was coming.

We did the norms...photos, laughs, visiting, playing, holding the babies, drinking the strong coffee.  But I knew it was coming.

We sat on pink couches and it slowly, quietly creeped in.  A woman I have come to respect for her devotion, her commitment, her LOVE for these children who come in and out of her life like a revolving door.  A women who loves these babies knowing it will be painful to say goodbye.  And she sat holding my Judah and the tears came freely.  "Rabirra, I know you will have a bright future.  You will live good life.  You will grow to be strong boy.  Goodbye, Rabi." Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss. And once again, a baby is placed in my arms and I am his mother with the blessing of another.  Her pain is palapable.  She apologizes for being emotional because, "we just become so attached to these babies."

Today Judah lost his family.  Again.  And although I know he WILL have a bright future, today my heart just hurts for those women who love tirelessly knowing that their attachment will result in sadness.  Today they lost four members of their makeshift family.  And yet tomorrow they will all show up again and keep on loving and caring.

Thank you, dear women.  For being a mama to my boy.  For picking him up when he cries, getting him to smile, snuggling him to your chest, feeding him in the night, sitting on the floor and encouraging him to crawl and roll over and share his toy.  You are precious.  You are amazing.  You are women of great strength.  And I am so grateful that you become attached knowing it is only for a short time. Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

Weed Eating and Other Baby Essentials

Today. 

I get on a plane and start the trip back to Judah.

Oh. my. word.

This sort of elicits three appropriate responses that occur in the following order:

1. "Holla!"

This is the pure joy, excitement, nervous energy, long-awaited reality coming to be.  It makes you smile.  You swoon at Nugget's picture.  You sniff those little diapers and stack those neatly folded baby outfits.   Giving baby a bath and putting him in his jammies washed in that special baby detergent sounds fun. Nugget is going to smile and laugh and attach to you and think you are the best thing that ever came along.  You envision rocking and cuddling and sleeping through the night. I repeat....sleeping through the night.  It feels like the world is aligned.  God is blessing.  Life is good.  I can't wait. 


2. "Oh, crap!"

This is the reality component that interferes with the above dream world.  It is the experience of mothering taking hold of your thoughts and slowly reminding you of all the unpleasantries of life with baby.  The lugging of the diaper bag and car seat through parking lots, the puking on your clothes, the inability to shower, the stack of laundry, the night feedings.   The understanding that life is going to be....uh.....different for a while.   The realization of all the things you were going to get done before this trip but didn't.  And in my case that longer than long, long flight home.  And this time, Baby better like Daddy.  I remember laying in bed on our Eden trip and thinking, "What are we doing?  We have lost our minds."


3. "Say what?!?"

I've kind of been through this adoption thing a time or three and every time it never feels remotely normal.  I am getting on a plane.  I am crossing the world.  I am swinging on by an orphanage in the afternoon.  I'm sitting through a coffee ceremony that has nothing to do with adoption or babies.  I pick up Nugget.  We hug everyone goodbye.  And then Nugget is now coming to live with me. FOREVER.  No matter how excited or scared or whatever the emotions...this just always seems a little, little, little bit unusual to me.  And kind of amazing, too.

As is then waking up at home to strange baby in...your....living room.  Totally not weird.  Baby from the picture is now 3-D baby sitting on the couch with your other kids.

And the great news is that I have completed the following list of essentials in preparation for a new baby over the last three days.  New moms, you may want to take notes.

• swept garage and organized the jumble of plastic cars, bikes, scooters, bubble wands, sticks/swords, golf balls, and socks.  Don't ask. 
• oil changed in the car....wiped down seats, vacuumed floors
• stripped all pink things from Nugget's room and replaced them with animal printy things and new crib sheet.  I don't know why I feel Ethiopian babies can pull of animal prints, but they just can.
• organized the pantry
• had a fun session with the weed eater
• located saved boy clothes to discover none would actually fit
• made 4 trips to the grocery store in one week for....groceries.
• chosen grout color and new garage doors
• given three members of our family haircuts

That's pretty much what you need to do in order to welcome a new child into your home....especially the weed eating.  Wouldn't want baby to get lost in the grass or something. 

So, whatever.  The bags are 90% packed.  The plane tickets are secured.  The kids are going to hang with the grandmas for a few days.  It will all be O.K.

It will all be O.K.

Because on Saturday, after 24 hours of travel, I will walk out of our concourse to my kids waiting for their new brother.  And they will be beaming.  And I will be beaming.  And Judah will be home.

And I'm pretty sure he won't care about the pantry and I'd even wager some cash that he won't get lost in the grass.

We're on our way....