Today is "Placement Day" for our family. Fifteen years ago today we sat in the small "living room" of the adoption agency together with our children, my parents, our newest son and his foster mom and her little girl. I don't remember if the day was sunny or it rained. There could have been cold cloudy breezes blowing but I have no recollection of the weather outside. It rained through sunshine inside though. Tears were flowing freely: tears of joy, tears of loss, but not tears of fear, and not tears of an infant. The tears came from me, and a couple of my daughters. The tears flowed from Dawn, the foster mom, who was battling with conflicting emotions both joy and grief. The tears threatened my mom's cheeks as she wiped and sniffled them away.
This little boy had been Dawn's for six month. She had loved him freely, changed his diaper, rocked his fears away, sang him into dreamland, and her husband and she gave themselves to him in a selfless act of devotion to their Savior. Dawn had become his "Mommy" and earned his love and devotion. They had prayed for us and wondered what took so long to find a family for him. They had waited for this moment and knew it would come. But now that she faced it her world was shaking hard. Still she dressed him that morning for the last time and brought him to us, knowing this was what the plan was from day one. Her heart ached with the loss, but her spirit smiled through the tears - sunshine through the rain.
Genna cried too. She was the cute little blond two year old with a smile that would melt the meanest heart. She loved our son like her own. He was her own. He was her first brother. There would be others who are brothers who belonged to her. But in that moment he was her brother and she cried for the now that she didn't truly understand. Mention Genna's name and he jumped with joy. He knew she loved him.
My mom and dad came. My dad has always had such an open heart. He had often included the lonely and neglected. He gave with a generous heart to those around him. That day he spoke words of blessing, words of inclusion, words that welcomed the baby physically and spiritually into our fold. He slid easily into the moment of newness with our son. My mom was the more cautious one. She considered the practical and carried concern for what could harm. She was never the one to weep openly, and quietly dabbed wet eyes. When he was placed in her arms her heart reached out and wrapped her around this tender little boy. She had worried for me. She had worried that she would not be able to see him as her own grandchild, but in that moment she received him just as she had my first four children. He reached his tiny hand to her and grasped her heart within it.
My children each took turns playing with him, holding him, the new toy. A baby for the oldest two girls to enjoy. A mixture of love and competition for my third daughter who had been the "baby" in our home. Our son embraced this newest son with a delight only an only son could grasp. He was not alone now. He had a brother. A dream come true for him. Second mommies who would care for him and love him without a second thought, a sister who would be a sister in every way, teasing and tempting and loving him intensely, and a brother who would continue to be devoted to him throughout life, this is what waited for Tim on the other side of the ceremony in that little living room in 1997.
My husband took him in his arm and read passages from 1 Timothy, a favorite of his, and the reason we decided to keep the name he had been given at birth - Timothy. A child that was not part of my husband's plan at first, but that day in that room there was no doubt in Richard's heart that this child had been born to be his son. Adopted by this father even as Rich had been adopted by his father, and we had been adopted by the Father. Not something of shame as the generations before had labeled adoption. No, this was a reason to rejoice! This was a celebration for we had a new son! Yes, there was sadness in the path that brought him to us, but anything of value has been refined in the fire of life. We were simply thankful that God allowed him to be ours on this day.
I wept openly with delight, with the deepest kind of joy. The kind of joy that awakens and pushes its way forward and out into the light when a dream is realized. I had timidly offered this dream to my husband almost seven years before this day. I had spent days weeping at what I thought was the wrong dream as we were rejected over and over for different children waiting for adoption. I had worked through depression that tried to drown me in a sense of worthlessness and unfitness for the task. And this day, May 9, 1997 was my day of victory. The completion of the dream bounced on my lap with overwhelming delight at the attention being offered to him.
Timmy found the day a party. He laughed and gurgled with joy. He delighted everyone with his cute little face and noises. There were days ahead that brought more struggle as we learned how to be a family together and settled into the routine of life that included this little boy. But he knew today, this day, was his and he basked in the warmth of the moment.
I love you, Tim. You are my dream come true and the answer to my prayers. I am thankful every day that I am your Mom.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
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