I understand my last post was heavy, but the sun is shining again! Lydia has now fixed her language of explanation: “Mom and Dad are adopting me a sister or brother!” And she is also making an adoption plan for a toy that she’s saving up for. After she gets enough money, she is going to “adopt” a stuffed animal Chase from Paw Patrol to play with her stuffed animal Skye the same size. Be still my heart!
As we wait for our last trainings, we are reading a book called “Toddler Adoption: The Weaver’s Craft.” We are not very far into the book, but we realized that back when we started talking about adoption, we were thinking about an older child (but younger than Lydia). We have no idea the child God has in store for us, nor the age by time we welcome him or her into our family. But we are preparing for any child 0-5, because Lydia is currently 6. I didn’t fully understand all the trauma of an adopted toddler, and I still don’t completely comprehend. But one thing I did learn? The Chihuahua we adopted a year and a half ago is showing similar traits. I almost laughed, but I understand our dog so much more! The barking at the people she doesn’t trust, the clinging to those she completely does. The protecting of her “person” (that’s me, by the way…she’s never far off!).
We have decided to begin preparations for our new child. We have a spare bedroom – always meant for kid number two, in my book. Doug and I have been listing ideas how we can “toddler-proof” and clean out the current guest bedroom. The book encourages adoptive parents in their preparation, validating “nesting” before a new child and making it feel more real. I found this poem in the book, as well, and it spoke to my heart.
Song of the Waiting Mother
I’m pregnant, but my tummy isn’t growing,
And no one ever calls me ‘little mom.’
The public simply isn’t overflowing
With questions that I’d handle with aplomb.
There are no special clothes to mark my waiting.
Nobody stops and smiles as I pass by.
The absence of a due-date is frustrating
And looking at the nursery makes me cry.
When I’m overdue no one will worry.
The phone won’t ring and ring as friends check in.
I can’t induce my labor in a hurry,
My new life as a parent to begin.
Adoption is a worrisome endeavor,
And waiting all alone is not much fun.
To be ‘with child’ a year seems like forever.
Dear God, we’re ready! Please send us our son!
By Christine Futia, 1989
We have a little way to go before our home study even begins, and who knows how much longer until a match is made. It could be fast, or it could take years. The lack of a due-date is frustrating.
In the meantime, I wait. I wait and prepare myself. I wait and prepare Lydia. I wait, as patiently as I can (God help me!). Doug and I are learning. Preparing. And when God says it’s finally time, we’ll be ready.