Tomorrow morning, we will go into a delivery room of sorts to have our fifth child. However, I am not in labor. Instead of a bed or tub for delivery, there will only be chairs. I will be dressed up rather than wearing a flimsy hospital gown. The one who is responsible for the delivery wears a black robe rather than a white coat. My other children will be in the room, as will my husband and others who love and support us. It will be a beautiful day full of celebration! But, the child I take home will not be a newborn...and she's already shared our home and experienced our love for well over a year! Tomorrow, we will adopt the precious little girl that came to us at five days old and we dubbed our "Tiny Princess" because she is part Guatemalan (an ethnicity known for their small stature) and she reminds me of the Shakespearian quote, "though she be but little, she is fierce."
All of our children have come to us either through foster care or adoption...and sometimes, as is the case of our Tiny Princess and two others, both. Sometimes, as I hear other moms talk about their experince with pregnancy and delivery, my heart aches just a bit. I sometimes feel left out of the conversation because I lack a similar experience and feel I have nothing to add. And yet, as I was talking with a friend this past weekend, I realized that I do have a birth story for each of my children. I may not have physical labor pains, but I do have emotional ones. I may not have had a baby shower or even a sprinkle for her, but people are making time in their schedules to come with us to our "delivery room" and celebrate the "birth" of another child added to our family. I may not have ever been able to nurse her, but I have been nurturing her since she was five days old and will continue to do so as long as I am here on this earth. The story of how each of our children joined our family is as varied and unique as they are...just as each biological child has his/her own birth story.
So much of our society still defaults to biology as the only "real" way a family can be created, but biology is not always best. I have two sons who have a birth mother that recognized her inability to provide for the boys she carried for nine months, gave birth to, and out of that realization, chose to place them in our family. She sacrificed her selfish desires so that her boys could have a better life than what she could offer them. We have had countless children in our home whose parents did not realize their inability to parent and had to have someone step in to protect the children. Some of these children were able to be reunited with their parents, others went to live with a family member, and, as of tomorrow, three have become a permanent member of our family. I have no more control over the length of time a child is in my home than a biological parent does, though most people don't think about it like that. So many people tell me they could never be a foster parent because they couldn't love a child and let them go...but I think of so many families who have to do just that with their biological children. Children who receive a fatal diagnosis or are fatally injured in an accident are proof that we never really know how long we will have with the children in our home. A parent doesn't stop loving a child diagnosed with a fatal illness just because they might leave...at least not those I've known in that situation! Sure, the odds are that a biological parent will be more likely to raise their child to adulthood than a foster parent will...but it is never a sure thing. Those of us who chose to answer the call to foster care know that the likihood of us loving a child that might leave us is great...and yet, we choose to love them anyway. We love them as our own. We meet their physical, emotional, and spiritual needs as any good parent would. We comfort them when they are sick or have fears, celebrate when they succeed, and do all the mundane things in between. And we grieve them when they leave as any parent grieves the loss of a child. Our heart aches for the child we loved and let go. The only difference is we know that child is still out there somewhere...and we continue to pray for their wellbeing! Sometimes, we get to know how they are doing...other times we don't. But, whether they were with us a day, a few months, or years...they are our kids and we love them as such! And sometimes...they get to stay! :)
So, as I walk into the adoption delivery room (a.k.a. courtroom) tomorrow, I will be thankful for the days that God has already given us with our Tiny Princess and all of her siblings...and look forward to how ever many future days the Lord will allow. I will be thankful for those who will go with me into that delivery room to celebrate with us, as well as those who wish to be there but have something that prevents them from being there in person...we know their thoughts and prayers are with us. And I will be overjoyed that once again, God chose me to parent a child that needed the biology of another woman and my nurturing to become the person He created them to be. I do not take this assignment lightly. It is a blessing and an honor! God is so good!
No comments:
Post a Comment