Treading Troubled Waters

I know it's been awhile. I've been staying away on purpose. My heart is a walking weight. It's easier to think about other things. Sweet Boy is grasping for security and watching him struggle is the heaviest burden I've ever shouldered.

We're nine months in and my angel boy, cautiously, walks the line that separates past and future, like it's death and life, wetting the present with a dark fog. It seems impossible to navigate, but I know better.

His weekly nightmares reveal his desperation to escape this trapped world. He's in a boat that's sinking; He's trying to swim, but he's drowning; He's swimming, but a shark eats him.

Every week he asks me or the therapist when he will finally be adopted. He's concerned that I might lose him in a crowd. And he shows an, increasing, distaste for his last name (given at birth).

He flops between surety and unease, effortlessly. One day, he'll draw a picture of our family of six in our house, with rainbows overhead, but then the next day he'll draw a picture of himself standing outside of a crowd. Sometimes the crowd is family; sometimes it's classmates.

Sometimes he draws strangers in his bed; sometimes he draws them in our family.

Some days he asks for squishy hugs and wants to snuggle under blankets. Other days he stands across the room, refusing to join the fun.

Every night he asks to be tucked, tightly, into bed.

Last night he snuck into OUR bed, without notice, and I woke up to his little body cradled in mine.

Today, he made my day when he reached out and asked if I would carry him around for awhile. I think he just needed to be close.
 
Our therapist  reminds me, every week, that wholeness will take an indefinite amount of time. Sweet boy has survived trauma...and healing cannot be rushed.

Even though the days can be long - the steps forward small - I AM encouraged by his progress and closeness to our family. He knows that we are family. He laughs like us; prays like us; and even embraces our unpopular beliefs and traditions.

He knows that we're family...his question is whether or not we're the last.

Words hold little value. He had family twice before and we've been talking of adoption for months.

As suffocating as the sadness can be sometimes, we are standing firm in our faith. God has preserved Sweet Boy's spirit and he WILL push through.


Here is how you can stand with us in prayer.

DNA testing is on November 4th. I am praying that the punitive father (who cannot be the father based on race alone), does not show up for the test. This would allow us to move forward and terminate rights, on all "known and unknown" fathers at the next hearing in a few weeks. If the punitive father does show up for testing, pray that the attorneys will, miraculously, receive test results in time for our hearing. We've been told that it is impossible to get DNA results in less than 3 weeks.

I know that with God, ALL things are possible. We pray for his continued grace in this season, with extra measures of patience, wisdom, and love...for everyone involved.

Rebekah's Story

Ty's birth mother, Rebekah, is telling her side of our story, right now, over on her blog. I encourage you to read her compelling words. It's such a good reminder that there is always more to the story...

 Adoption Part I: My Story Five Years Later
 Adoption Part II: The phone call that started it all
Adoption Part III: Rock Bottom