Our household changed drastically again, our family of 4 grew to 5. Our newest member has only graced this world with his life, but a week. Tuesday afternoon, I heard the need and knew he was the one we had been praying, hoping and asking Santa for.
I walked into the hospital empty handed, took the elevator to the maternity floor, walked into a room and laid eyes on the most beautiful little boy I have ever seen. As I left the hospital with him, I pulled him in close as we walked out into the cold winter night. His fuzzy little head still red from birth rested on my chest as I soaked him in. These are the moments where the weight of our lives being knit together really sinks in, the moment I become his voice, his advocate, and his mom, filling the void his birth mom has created because of her brokenness.
I studied him, his ten little toes, his crooked pinkies and his tiny nose. While my body has no memory of him being in it, my heart knows him. As my body adjusts to the lack of sleep, I am tuning in to his needs, signals and sounds. He is learning my smell, my voice and my feel. The womb he called home for 9 months was not mine. The hands that first held him were not mine. The voice he first heard was not mine. God has been preparing my heart for this very moment, God has been preparing our family for him.
I heard this beautiful phrase last week, “make my heart soft and keep my head strong.” Those words perfectly sum up my journey these past years. While I must keep my head strong and practical at times, I must keep that balanced with reckless abandonment of safety. Allowing my heart to be pressed, that it may remain soft and pliable.
The truth is, I am scared. I am afraid to say goodbye again, that reality knocks the air right out of me. I am afraid of all of the time and questions. I am scared of the needs of a newborn and the strain it will have. Then he opens his eyes and I see him and I am flooded with all the reasons I do this. I cherish that his body has not be marked by neglect or abuse, his brain is not rewired by trauma, nor is his soul heavy with secrets. May I never turn away when it feels hard, scary or overwhelming but instead may I simply say, “yes” and press in.