And Then We Were 6

My foot presses against the cool tile floor, arches, and springs rhythmically, not to the cadence of music, or to the tree frog croaking his love on the louvers outside the window, but to the bend of the creaking chair in which I rock.  After screams and arching, babbling, sighs and yielding, Rose nestles against the side of my neck, her small puffs of moist air warming my neck.  The peace we've both longed for comes as she battles her way into rest and she no longer resists the heaviness of sleep.  She is over whatever fears and rage she felt such a short time ago and has decided to trust me to still be there when she awakes.  It takes me a little while longer to be over the difficulty of the duel and settle into a place of enjoyment for the moment of stillness I am enjoying.  Some nights there is less of a fight.  But often there is an hour or more of resistance to the safe space for sleep she longs for, and then intermittent cries through the night demanding comfort and another round of creaking and rocking in the white chair.

Can I just say up front that this adoption thing is very hard?  Of course, I am committed to following through with that which God birthed in me, and a new love for my precious little girls is bursting into bloom in my heart, but oh, this is hard!  I have had moments this month of wondering what in the world we were thinking to start over with toddlers at age 40 and why two of them, and why, why, WHY would I want to deal with tantrums and poopy diapers, and being awake for too many hours during the night?  I'm tired.  They need SO much from me and the needs of our boys did not magically vanish when the girls arrived. I didn't have the luxury of their first years to have arrived at this point neatly bonded and ready to face challenges head on.  We have been thrown together instead of grown together and I cannot possible know what has shaped and molded their little minds and hearts.

To be honest, some moments I walk in obedience instead of love.  And some moments I fail entirely.  I hate that, but it's true.

Though many have asked "how are things going" with our adoption process, it has been hard to know what to put into words or when to write.  While our adoption is not complete, December 5th marked the day we knew we were through the Haitian social services arm of the process, and that there was little chance of anything disrupting their adoptions, so we decided to bring them home with rejoicing and solemn realization of what we were ready to embark upon.

It was a rough start; maybe part of it simply being the adjustment back to relating to toddlers.  I had a resolute will to take the spotlight off of myself and my own needs and shine it on the girls like my good attachment parenting training has taught me.  But my flesh is weak and I am sometimes selfish and at 2 and 3 and 4 AM, my spotlight stubbornly focuses on me, refusing to budge from my bent toward sleep, even if some little person is feeling unsettled with a new bed and home.

I realize not everyone who has adopted has this level of challenge, and we can face challenges with our biological kids that strain and stress us, but adopting an older child or a child from an orphanage/creche setting certainly raises the chances of struggle.

I am being completely honest here, lest anyone with a hero mentality decides adoption might be a cute, hip thing to do to have some extra kids in your life.  I'm not trying to scare off adoptive families who have a love for orphans and a will bent towards God's call for orphan care, but know this is not light parenting.  If you like to keep it all together and maintain a healthy sense of status quo, then run, run, run people, and don't look back!  But if you want to be used and stretched and grown for the sake of a child, adoption might be for you.

Already in this first month, beyond the moments of frustration, I have noticed the feeling of deep satisfaction in seeing my beautiful family of 6 all around one table, had the first inklings of love well up in my heart when Natalie or Rose has grabbed my face and planted wet kisses on my lips, observed a quiet pride watching Daddy paint his little girl's toe nails too red, and felt the rush of joy at hearing my 4 kids giggling and playing a tickle game on the bed.  I have noticed new ways in which I am able to be both humbled and strengthened, a new place of contentment with smaller things and slower movement, and the ability to tame my tongue and anger when I'd really like to blow. This is not a "got it all together" speech to be sure!  My mistakes have brought me, ashamed, before my God asking for forgiveness and for strength when mine is gone, but I am grateful for how God chooses to grow me instead of toss me aside, and how this time of trial is being used to refine my character and heart.  How I long to reflect that loving nature of my Heavenly Father to each of the children he has entrusted to my care!

So yes, this moment in time is hard and real, but so is my joy and contentment.  Our old family is becoming a new one, bumpy though the road be, and my adoptive Papa is patiently shaping me to allow me to better reflect Him.