Open Arms

Today over the course of a normal Saturday Caleb reached a milestone that I have waited for for months.  He reached his arms out to me.   Full of happiness and giggles while playing together, secure in the fact that I am his Mom and I love him, he reached his chubby sweet little baby arms out for me to hold him. 

I will backtrack to my first days with Jeremiah so you can understand why this was such an important milestone that I have been waiting forever for.  One of the best memories in my whole life was when Jeremiah did this for the first time.  I remember blogging about it here so I would never forget the way that felt.  Jeremiah was 6 months old and had only been my son for 3 weeks at this point.  I was still in Uganda with him.  I had to take him to The Surgery to have a TB test (a shot that forms a blister under the skin) and I remember writing this about it:  "I held him in my lap while they administered the shot and cried right along with him because he didn't understand why I let them hurt him.  As soon as they were done I turned him to face me and laid him on my chest to calm my sweet little boy who screamed hysterically with fright, not understanding why I let them poke him.  When he began to calm, I laid him on the bed to re-dress him and his little face turned red as he started to scream again, and for the first time ever, he lifted his skinny little malnourished arms up to me and held them out, begging me to hold him and not let go just yet.  I have never felt quite so loved in my life as I did in that moment when my tiny 9 pond 6 month old threw his wobbly arms up to me for comfort.  I will never forget that moment as long as I live!!"

Caleb is almost 9 months old and the events that led up to him holding his arms out to me to be held were nothing like the emotional traumatic day with Jeremiah, but it was precious just the same.  The trust of a baby reaching out for you knowing that you are his Mommy and will always keep him safe and love him forever.  A first moment in motherhood that I might never have noticed if I had not had that experience with Jeremiah, cherishing every moment of the bonding of his heart to mine.  A simple every day moment that would have probably passed unnoticed.


As I rocked Caleb with his bed time bottle a few minutes later I contemplated what firsts I am missing right now as my husband and I fill out the paperwork for our third adoption.  Being able to bring Caleb home from the hospital was a blessing that we never expected.  We never dreamed we would have the chance to experience EVERY first with one of our children.  It is such a precious gift and we treasure it!  Right now as we wait and hope to be matched with a waiting child I wonder what other firsts have come and gone.  First words?  First steps?  First scraped knees or first toothless grin?  There is a bit of loss that goes with being an adoptive parent in that you miss some of these firsts.  Of course it is worth every missed first to bring our children home into our family but I still wonder.  Have I missed the first belly laugh, the first taste of ice cream or the first time on a swing?  I read a poem about a year ago that helps me keep all of this in perspective:

my view [a poem]
 You might not know the story (the one about her birth)

but I have kept a record since the moment she touched earth.

I know the day she tried to walk.  I counted every fall.

I know the number of her tears.  My bottle holds them all.

I was there for the day when she turned one year old.

You don't know where it happened and she might not have been told,

but those things are less important than the fact that I was there...

that I planned her birth with purpose is more important than the "where."

I was there when she was waiting.  I whispered to her when

her small heart first held the promise of the family I would send.

I planned all those details of her self that whisper she is yours

so that one day you could show her that I'd planned this since before.

Since before she heard your voice and before she knew your name

I was holding her and planning for her welfare just the same.

There was never once a moment when I didn't rule it all

From the numbers in her birth date to events she can't recall.

I've been planning this small life for the big one that shall be.

The missing pieces of her story make more room to trust in me.

The harvest that will come from the first few years of pain

Will be greater than your heart can know or ever could contain.

by Mandie Joy

I am feeling a little bit wistful today experiencing firsts with my two children while missing first with my third child I have yet to meet.  But I am determined to stay present with my children experience all the life and firsts that each day has to offer us.  To focus on what I have and trust God to take care of the one I am missing.  

The blog post that that poem is taken from is worth a read.  Head over to Mandie in Africa's blog and read the whole post.  It is worth it!  my view