Broken Pieces

Last night it hit me, and today it hit me again. I'm going to have my heart broken. This is not something I really thought of before Emerson was born. At that time parenthood looked like an exciting journey, a turning point in my life and in our marriage. But, I will admit, many of my sensibilities were clouded by adorable tiny socks and onesies, the ups and downs of pregnancy, the picking of a name, painting the nursery, and HOPE. The hope that my son or daughter would be this perfect little person and that I would be the best Mom in the world to them. I didn't picture anything else.

After the first year of sleep deprivation, trouble breastfeeding, severe reflux and spitting up, delayed milestones, and mixed in with the joy, the smiles, the firsts, the LOVE I felt for Emerson, I realized how naive I had been to think either of us would be perfect. Emerson's second year brought additional concerns, delays, laughter, fun, challenges, triumphs and a whole host of other emotions. Still not a perfect family. Our love for our son and proximity to him combined with inexperience caused us to overlook things Emerson needed help with. We didn't intervene as soon as we should have. We missed things that others who love him were noticing. We weren't finally ready to see Emerson completely for who he is until after we'd moved to Michigan. He was three years old, a whole and beautiful person that radiates with fun, intelligence, empathy, and leadership. He also resides on the spectrum of autism. We have had our share of heartache because of it, frustrations, confusion and even anger. But it didn't change our love for Emerson. He is now doing amazing things in Kindergarten: making friends, learning to read, following directions, having minimum melt downs, and he loves going to school. Autism is not something he will "grow out of" it is something as a family we will grow into. Sometimes it is painful, but I really wouldn't change it. He has come so, so far, and I know he will change the world because of all of the specific things that make him who he is.

A mother's heart is an incredible thing. Mine was elated when we learned that Emerson would be a big brother in 2011, but not long after we found out we were pregnant, we lost our baby at 8 weeks. I doubt the feelings that I had that day will ever leave me completely. Just like the birth of a child opens up a part of your heart and brings you joy you could not imagine, a miscarriage makes you feel betrayed by your body and vulnerable beyond belief, but with a new and profound understanding that none of this is under your control. I can say I have become closer to my Creator since our loss, and I'm trusting that His timing is perfect. My heart changed since our second child wasn't born, my life went on, and my broken heart grew because of it.

And little Sullivan. His arrival to this world was so smooth. Our transition to having another baby in our lives went swimmingly. He has developed in a neurotypical way, and has a smile for everyone he meets along with an occasional I'm-almost-2-let's-try-throwing-myself-on-the-floor-tantrum for me when I tell him no. We spend or days loving on the cats and Marley, running errands, me cleaning/him making messes, reading lots of books, chasing and tickling, avoiding naps, talking with puppets, throwing food on the floor and gigglng. All of the ordinary life of a toddler activities. And it brings me joy to have each day with him. But I will not be surprised if one day something Sullivan chooses to do, or not do, something he falls victim to, SOMETHING will break my heart. Without sounding terribly pessimistic or awful for thinking that with certainty, it's because I know my love for him. Anything that hurts him will hurt me. And here we all are living in this imperfect world, and even if the love I have for him is almost perfect, at some point my heart will chip, break, or shatter altogether because I do love him so much, and alas, his life will not be perfect.

Which brings me to Rose. And what brought me to tears last night and today. For Rose to be adoptable, there has inevitably been trauma in her life. We don't know yet what that is. Her birth parents might not have been able to care for her, they might have tried and failed. They might not have tried and the court had to remove her from the home. Her first family may not even be alive. She may have been abused, neglected, and at 14 she's going to have a lot of memories from her past experiences before she joins our family. We don't know the details. We are praying for the best possible scenario, and trying to educate ourselves on how to help Rose once she is with us. We know that loving her won't "fix" her. But I felt it for the first time last night. It will break our hearts. We don't know why God has called us to walk this path, but we know He will provide for us to do so. There has already been a change in our hearts, and there will be many more before we become a family of 5. And I know that there will be tears of joy and sadness when we unite with our precious daughter. I feel that God is preparing me to endure just a portion of the grief Rose has experienced, as we will hopefully find out more about her history this week (Along with her real name!!). Our daughter has come from a place of brokenness to bring her to the state of adoption. And although we don't know her yet, we feel called to welcome her into our hearts - because we too have come from a place of brokenness. Not from broken homes or broken families, but a broken world. And we have been united with Christ through his suffering so that we can be restored to a perfect place when we return to Heaven with Him. God is reaching us through this experience to seek out a child, open our hearts to her and give her the love that she deserves. It will break our hearts that our love will not be enough. But thankfully His love abounds!! I'm so eager to see how He will put these broken pieces together to make something truly beautiful.

Pam