We're expanding -- this young family of ours. We're stretching space and hearts and arms to welcome our new member. And as smitten as we are with him and as hopeful as we are that we are his forever family, the expansion hasn't come without its pain.
Some pains are easy to bear, like when I struggle to re-arrange living space to include baby-gear, and toddler-gear and preschool-gear. Or when Luke and I stand together in the church parking lot, the doors closed in a brief moment of silence, as we breath deeply preparing to re-configure the way we get 4 little ones from the parking lot into their classrooms, all without loosing one to cars or crowds. These pains, these baby pains, pass quickly; they are easy.
Other pains aren't so easy, aren't so temporal. Pains of expanding our hearts to welcome a new member. Pains of expanding our social group. Pains of stretching the time I have to meet the needs of my many little ones.
Perhaps the most difficult pains are the ones that cause expansion/adjustment in expectation. We're expanding to welcome Isaac all the while our understanding of his permanency is expanding. We thought it was a "slam dunk" of an adoption case -- at least that's what our social worker said. And now, we know little more other than that certain details have emerged that make it a little less certain. So we expand to love this baby knowing we may have to give him back. We're expanding to having a fourth child while also having to expand our comfort in our own skin. I don't really like unsolicited attention. Being a white mother with a black child means that it doesn't really matter what I like -- the attention is coming. And with each stare, each double-take my confidence wanes just a bit. And my love for Isaac expands. And it hurts just a bit.
When I was pregnant with Jack I knew that childbirth would hurt but what I didn't expect was that to take the bulbous shape of being with child I would hurt. As my body expanded it also pained. And with each baby, each change in our family, each expansion, we've pained a bit. But it's always been so worth it. And this time it will be too.
1 comment:
Val - My best friend has an adopted black child, an adopted (as of this week) white child, and a black foster child they are in the process of paperwork to adopt. If you ever feel the need to chat with someone about being a multicultural family, I'd be happy to pass her information along to you! Just send me a FB message or email.
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