Baby Brother's foster family spent the evening with us on Friday. There was a heavy knowing in the air, but it was really nice to spend time with them and to hear more of their story. Our kids were crazy. The kind of crazy you try your best to hide from people - especially people that are about to leave a costly gift with you (forever).
Sigh. But this is who we are. I like to think we control the chaos....but I always realize otherwise when people step in the front door for the first time.
Friday night went better than expected. He was only up for about an hour halfway through the night. It wasn't a painful or angry cry, it was more of a I-just-woke-up-in-a-strange-place-and-you-are-not-my-mother whimpering.
Ben joked (truthfully) that he makes the same sounds as Little Miss, only his decibel is about one-third of hers.
Last night was a bit rougher. He was up, on and off, for hours and that familiar beg to God set in, "Lord if you love me, please, PLEASE, let him sleep."
I know it's only been two and a half days, but I am tired. So tired.
People that told me I wouldn't notice a fifth - that anything after three is the same - lied.
It's a lot different.
Ben and I were like underpaid circus crew, this weekend, moving to the demands of the set. It took us three hours to get ready for church, this morning, but when we pulled into the parking lot on time, tears misted my eyes. We did it. And I know it will only get easier from here.
I am overwhelmed by the support that has flooded our doorstep.
Every day someone is handing me a gift card or asking if they can bring a meal. Today, we shared our hearts in front of our church, bringing people close to what God is doing in our growing family. Afterward our pastor asked the congregation to invest in God's work through us. He had us stand at the front of the altar and the stream of people that came was continuous. I cried, as family after family gave and shared their support, thanking us for saying yes.
One precious woman told me she had very little to give, but that she was a fierce prayer warrior and committed to bathe our family and Sweet Mama in prayer. Others offered free babysitting, and meals, and haircuts.
I am stunned with gratitude; I don't even know what to say.
A hot out-of-the-oven meal arrived, tonight, with a box of Tim Horton donuts that the kids went bananas for and I thanked God for his provision. This mama is exhausted, but the surge of energy I felt from all the helping hands around me, today, reminded me that we CAN do this...because we're not alone.
The bills will get paid, our sleep will be multiplied, and the kids will experience love.
Speaking of - I am awestruck at the tenderness my babies give so freely. I was worried about Little Miss. She is bossy and commands attention in every way. I knew she would have the hardest adjustment. Yet, she seemed to grow by years overnight. Sure, she still throws around, "My mommy" every other time she looks at her baby brother, making sure he understands the terms. But, she has been so interested in playing, reading, and helping me, I haven't seen any signs of spite or envy.
Baby Brother is such a bundle of sweetness. I've been wearing him, each day, and playing with him as much as I can (the boys rotate feedings). He is so relaxed and happy it's a breath of fresh air.
Rocking with him at night has been very emotional. The deep, fierce, mama bear love isn't there, yet, but I have this tremendous awareness of what a treasure this little boy is. In a way I've never felt before. I think of Sweet Mama everyday. The kids have been writing her letters and drawing her pictures, too. We popped at least 2 or 3 packages in the mail, this week.
I've been texting Foster Mama every time I think of her to ease her unsettled heart and let her know that we're taking the greatest care with her son.
All the while, knowing that the earthly love surrounding Baby Brother pales in comparison to the love of his Father. Wow.
It was a good, good weekend.