My Sun

I was just sitting here thinking back on specific moments the last little while. I'm sitting in my living room after my shower after my swim this morning and the lights are off and the sun is shining brightly through the ceiling sun lights.

I'm thinking about Baby Boy and the last time I saw him. It was for an Adoption Walk I attended about a month ago. I can't remember if I've already written about it or not. His dad brought Baby Boy and Baby Boy's siblings to the walk and we walked around the track together. My little guy was running all over the place, not at all wanting to be contained in any way. He had the biggest smile on his face and the longer he smiled, the rosier his cheeks got. His eyes are beautiful hazel and his skin is olive complected. He looks like a little Italian baby, he is serious perfection. I followed him around for such a long time and I was mesmerized by him. I created him, I made him from scratch... and he is changing every day more and more and he takes my breath away every time I see him.

He openly swatted at his sister. Now, I do not condone siblings fighting physically, and this was hardly a fight. Rather, it was more of an annoyed swat... but it was adorable. And the look on his face when he did it was the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life; his brow was seriously furrowed and his jaw set. Apparently he has a "hitting problem" that his parents are, "working on"... those are direct quotes. And, my heart warms when I heard that... not because he hits, but because he hits. That doesn't make any sense except that it makes perfect sense in my head, which I'm not going to try to explain. And when he gets upset he throws whatever is in his hand. I learned from his dad, that if nothing is in his hand, then he will walk into the kitchen and purposefully tip over the garbage can. It is impossible for me to find the words to describe how much joy the knowledge of his garbage-can-tipping brings to my heart. It's true.

The little man's got serious defiance and I love that about him. He hardly said a word but his voice when he laughed made me break out in goosebumps. The last time I heard the sound of joy was the first time I heard him cry. The sound of joy is my baby's laughter. He is observant, he watched his surroundings like a hawk and maintained interest in the object he was watching. He is brave, he wanders off and doesn't look back like most babies his age, rather he keeps going and if you don't watch him close, he's gone before you realize it. I love his fearlessness. A fire engine went off and he didn't cry, he simply watched the fire truck as it left the track (the local fire department came in support of birth mothers). He watched the fire engine with a look of curiosity on his face and he never looked away until it was out of his sight.

I bribed him with a piece of a donut. The little man didn't want to be contained which made holding him difficult, so I resorted to bribing measures. It's true. I held out the piece of donut in my hand and he reached for it, at which point I slowly pulled it just out of his reach and closer to me. When he was within grabbing distance, I held him for a brief moment... just long enough for him to shove the donut in his mouth and then run off.

I got to hold him as he drank a bottle. It was getting late in the afternoon and he had been running all over the place. It was near to his nap time and we were all wrapping things up to go our separate ways. His dad gave me a bottle, and I resorted to bribing measures again, and I picked him up and held him while he drank. At first he looked at me inquisitively and then he began patting my shoulder lightly. I think he might have been a little nervous and so I started whispering into his ear how much I love him. He rested his head against my lips and I whispered over and over how much I love him. I then handed him back over to his dad and we all went our separate ways. That was a beautiful afternoon. I love his parents deeply. They are amazing people and have been amazing towards me and my family. He was always meant to be with them. That knowledge doesn't make it any less easier, but in a way it does because I know that he is safe, and happy, and loved, and adored, and will always be provided for. The memory of the Adoption Walk is imprinted upon my memory like the feeling of the warmth of the sun before you step into it. You know it's beautiful and you can lose yourself in the warmth. It's quiet and that's what is so special about it, even in it's softness, the memory will never be forgotten.

I am a blessed woman. I am grateful for Baby Boy's parents. I am grateful for Baby Boy. I am grateful that I was blessed to deliver him. I am a blessed woman.

Hope

‎"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all." - Emily Dickinson

Hope is a blessing and a curse. Hope can bring you peace and make you feel like you are going insane. Hope can be liberating and it can be exhausting. Hope can be naive, but take a lifetime to to believe in. Hope can sit quietly for hours, days, months, and even years... and then when you least expect it, will fill your soul with song. No matter what, I choose to hope.

A Lesson Learned Perhaps Too Late

Life is about love. It's not about who wins an argument. It's not about who is more right than wrong. Sometimes, you've got to back down because the argument isn't worth the pain that it inflicts in the lives of those you love the most. My biggest failures in life have been born because of my inability to own my wrong-doings and respect the pain that my wrong-doing has caused in the lives of others. There are times when you cannot and should not attempt to explain away your shortcomings because, simply, there is no excuse good enough to erase the hurt that you've caused. And to argue at that point... is tragic.