I laid with Ty in bed last night and looked over at Little Boy's space. I thought about how scary it will be for him to sleep in a bed he's never seen, with a brother he just met, and another set of adults telling him that he's "home". It breaks my heart.
We got Little Boy's file, today. It took me ninety minutes, but I read every word.
I knew his first three years would be a patchwork of time that would be all but erased from me, but I didn't consider my need to mourn that time. It was easier to sweep under the rug when I didn't know the intricacies of his case.
Mixed in between the lines of violence and neglect, were sweet milestones stating that Little Boy spoke his first word. Took his first step. I was unprepared for how it would feel to catch up on my son's life on paper, knowing that I missed every moment.
Our sweet boy has been in six homes and represented by four agencies in two and a half years, available for adoption for the last nine months. Our caseworker admitted that Little Boy, our Little Boy, had simply slipped through the cracks.
As I read about his long case of bronchitis, last year, I traced my time back to what I was doing, hoping he was rocked and cuddled and prayed over. When I read he was removed from a foster home on a charge for failure to protect, my heart twisted in agony. When I read that he was separated from the only sister he knew because she could not stop crying, I had to take a minute to breathe.
These are kids. Small, innocent children, undeserving of such hardship.
While Ty and I cuddled and whispered in the quietness of his room, Little Boy was one of five laying on a mattress on the floor.
I cry as I type. This is not just some boy. This is MY boy. I cannot control what led him to this place, but I can change his name and future.
His first name will remain intact, but his middle name will be Jeremiah.
My son will have a new start. He will understand the significance of Jeremiah 29:11 in his own life. God says:
I'll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for [The Message].Oh, friends. There is so much need.
Please consider foster adoption.
It makes me down right angry that we were turned away from every agency in Michigan because of our adoption specifications (i.e. only being willing to adopt children younger than Ty). We were told, today, about another sibling group. Two little girls. One and two years old. This is the fourth case we've been presented with and we've only been approved for adoption for a month.
My heart is heavy, but thankful, that God called us when he did. Our son will be home soon.