A year ago today, we picked up a 2 day old foster child from the hospital, the baby sister of our youngest son. Though she was "just a foster child" (as we were constantly reminded), that's not how we felt about her. Honestly, not a child enters our home that we consider "just a foster child" - whether they stay with us for 2 days, 2 years, or forever! From the moment they enter our home, they are ours...100% ours. But still, this child was different. Because of the past history of the birth mom, we had reason to believe that she could possibly become ours. It wasn't her real name, but we dubbed her "Sissy" at our house because she was the baby sister of our then 2 year old son.
But, our plans were not God's plan and just 3 short months later, the bio parents arranged a private adoption with a family member and she was taken from us. We tried to fight it - it's the only time we've fought in court to keep a child...and we did it for our son, but we lost. She now resides in another state and turned a year old two days ago. Promises made in court to keep her in touch with her siblings have so far gone unfulfilled & I don't know if they ever will be.
She will never remember us...but we will never forget her. Though it's not nearly as frequent as it once was, her brother still asks for her. So does my 4 year old who has no biological connection to her. So does my heart. She will always have a special place in our hearts, no matter where she is or how old she gets.
I had not planned to blog about this. I remembered her two days ago on her first birthday and silently wished her a happy one, but mentioned it only to God, asking Him to protect her and guide her to be who He wants her to be. I'm sure He will...it's why she had to leave our arms and go to another home. But today, as her picture popped up in my Facebook memories, I got to thinking...or rather, God started speaking to my heart, and a blog post began to form.
You see, as I thought about our Sissy, I began to wonder if maybe the feelings I was feeling were similar to what the birth moms of our sons feel on their birthdays. Do they remember the day they gave birth? Do they remember the first time they held them in their arms? Do they remember the last day they looked in their sweet faces and said goodbye? I'm sure they do...just as I remember Sissy. I know she is with a family who loves her and who loves the Lord, so I'm not worried about her. But, I still miss her. In the case of our oldest two boys, their birth mom chose us to adopt them...at two separate times...so, she must know they are in good hands. Our youngest was adopted after previously being our foster son, and yet, I think on some level his birth mom knows we are taking care of him as well. It was a new perspective for me...to think about adoption from the other side. I did not give birth to Sissy, but I loved her as much as if I had. Losing her when the judge ruled in the other family's favor was like losing a child to death...and yet, I knew she was alive and would be fine in the family who would raise her.
Perspective is everything...I have always had a lot of respect for the birth moms who choose adoption when they realize they aren't ready to parent the child they gave birth to...but today, I understand a little bit more of what they most experience for the rest of their lives after the adoption is done. 💕
No comments:
Post a Comment