Tuesday, November 3, 2009

The Gift of Long-Awaited Firsts

When we started our adoption almost 2 and ½ years ago, our social worker warned us that this adventure would seem like a ride on a roller coaster. I mentally replied with, “Oh hush. We have done roller coasters, the kind that make you wet your pants and cry for mama. This will be ride on a carousel.” Well, I threw up down the first hill and unfortunately this last bit of track is looking like a doozie.

Nothing about our adoption has been easy or normal or even good . . . except for a nine year old boy, with big brown eyes, currently no front teeth, and a heart of gold. Few can understand why we are still doing this 27 months, 1 homestudy and 2 homestudy updates, 2 fingerprintings, 3 dossiers, an intestinal parasite, 1 earthquake, 3 active volcanoes, 1 robbery (and this was in the US!), 17 lice treatments, 22 round trip plane tickets to Guatemala, and the contents of our bank account later. Well, we’ve had our moments of just wanting to give up but the two things that keep us going are our love for this child and the joy of each long-awaited first.

You see, as I’ve grown to love this little boy, I’ve had to grieve all that I’ve missed. I’ll never have baby pictures or home videos of when he was little. I’ll never watch his dimpled legs take their first steps or hear his first word spoken. I’ll never be able to turn back time to care for him when he was sick, comfort him when he was scared, celebrate lost birthdays and Christmases, or recover years of bedtime prayers and hugs. But what I will have is just as special. I’ll have firsts that few people will ever have the gift to experience.

I’ll have sweet arms wrapped around my shoulders and hear his very first “I love you, Mama” whispered in my ear.



I’ll have pics of a little boy who knows he won the lottery when he got Brad as his daddy.


I'll have proof that he realizes girls aren’t so bad . . .


when they are your sisters.


I’ll watch two boys play trains together . . .


and pretend to be superheroes . . .


and walk hand in hand like they've always been . . .


brothers.


I’ll watch a child, who once looked through garbage for food,
eat until he is full . . .



and then top it off with ice cream with his family.


I’ll get to take him to an amusement park for the first time (see, I told you there was a carousel in this story) . . .


where he hugs and thanks me after each ride . . .


and he tells me at the end of the day that it was the best day of his life.


I’ll give him his first birthday party at nine years old . . .


and watch him blow out his first birthday candle (he was so fast that my camera only got the "after", but oh what a smile).


I’ll watch him swim in a pool for the first time . . .


and laugh with his siblings . . .


and be part of the Williams family team.


I’ll get to read to him for the first time (he was very patient with my Spanish).


I’ll get to see his first dance in ocean waves (he’ll have to wait till he gets to the states to see white sand).


I'll watch him grow into a child who knows he's loved and cherished, . . .


not a guest, but a true member of our family.


I’ll get to tuck a little boy in bed for the first time and hear him thank God in his prayers for his new family. Then I’ll watch him sleep and say my own prayer thanking God for the gift of this special child.


I’ll get a phone call from him that says, “I just needed to hear my mama’s voice before I go to sleep.” And I’ll get a letter that reads, “I love you lots. I love you more than lots. I love you with all my heart and all of me. I can‘t wait to come home to the USA.”

And some day I’ll get to tell him that he is forever ours. Some day I’ll hold his little hand when we walk off an airplane and take his picture as we stand in customs with an American flag as the background of his sweet face. I’ll see a crowd of family and friends who have prayed 2 and ½ years for him holding “Welcome Home” signs. And I’ll see him hug his sisters and brother and daddy. (Well, I probably won't really see any of it because I'll be crying big ugly tears of joy.)

And then the world will open to a whole new list of firsts.

With Hope,
Kathie

(The above post is shared through a "blog carnival" for a fabulous adoption website “Grown In My Heart.” This month’s topic is favorite adoption photos. Take a peek at the other precious faces of adoption.)

5 comments:

Teri said...

This was just beautiful and brought tears to my eyes. You are such a great Mommy and your family's faith and endurance through this is just an inspiration. We love Danillo so much and are praying him home with you. =)

Jill said...

Praying him home, thank you for sharing this, you have a gift for writing. I sas thinking of our own journey as I was reading yours and just weeping tears of joy of how good our God is and I even rejoice in our storms (now anyways) because it made us hang on to him tighter and our love for the Lord grew so much through our adoption. God bless you and your family!

Kim said...

I have tears streaming down my face for the love you so beautifully expressed. May I encourage you that adoption is all worth it in the end and you will be there sooner than later. Praying that he will be home with you soon. I know it is hard to wait but hang on you can do it! I'm so happy for you cause I know what you are going to experience and can't wait to read more of your beautiful writings about those experiences!

Shea Gilbert said...

keep em coming. Your writing is beautiful and what a gift to your entire family to have a record of this time! Praying for Danilo's heart this night. May his Heavenly Father wrap him up in love when you aren't physically there.
shea

ANDREA said...

I am crying again! I love all the FIRSTS....and I love I was there for a few of those... like tucking him in for the first time!!! Oh man...I'll never forget that week!!!