I watched you today as your daddy held you close to his chest. I made note of how tiny you still looked in his grip. Certainly you have grown since your arrival just five months ago, entering this world just over six pounds.
But you still look small.
Fragile, yet so strong.
Your eyes drifted my way and your gaze caught mine for a moment. I saw through those dark eyes into your sweet spirit in a way that only a mama is capable of doing. Your eyes widened and your body stiffened with joy…you saw me too.
You know me. And I know you.
I heard you tonight. You laughed out loud at my hilarious version of peekaboo as I strapped you into your car seat. Okay, it wasn’t really all that funny, but your belly-jiggling laugh was a kind gesture. If I close my eyes, I can still see your toothless grin and squinted eyes and hear your growl-like chuckle. I could pick your laugh out rooms away.
Your lips have met mine thousands of times and even the way your drool drips from them and dribbles over to mine makes my heart pitter pat.
Now that’s love. Real love.
But there are moments coming in the near future-moments that I have dreaded since that hot day in July when my phone rang with our case worker asking if we would take a three-day-old baby boy.
I think back to my other four children. I remember where I was the very moment I found out about their existence. I can quickly recollect all the feelings that enveloped me as the two pink lines crept up the white paper.
JOY!! fear. elation. unknown. excitement. tears. hope. anticipation.
I felt so many of those the moment I heard you were coming too.
But with you, it was different. I knew our time together would be fleeting and full of heartache.
And I still said YES! We said YES TO YOU!
You, my sweet boy, are wanted.
Any day now, my phone will ring and it will be our case worker. She will tell me it’s time for you to go. I will pack your bags for your journey ahead. I will wash your clothes for the last time and fold your little pajamas neatly into your suitcase. I will mix up one last bottle and I will think back to those early nights…
You were so tiny and eating every ninety minutes. I was so exhausted. But I would sit up in the dark of the night. I would hold you in one hand so I could balance the tiny bottle in the other while I kept my little finger on your chin to help you hold your suck just right on that nipple. It took you twenty minutes to eat half an ounce. I was so exhausted.
Love is hard work.
And after go you, I know the memories we have shared will be only mine. You will never really remember me. Someone may tell you about me and you may see my image in pictures.
But soon, very soon, this world you and I share will be shattered.
It will be forever changed.
I won’t wake up to your cries at four am, or pat your back for that big burp I know always comes after your bottle. I won’t see your first tooth push through. I won’t be there to watch you get up on all fours as you prepare to crawl. I will miss that first step and the first word.
Someone will see and hear, but it won’t be me.
But even when I’m not present, don’t think for a second that my mama heart has forgotten you.
Don’t you know I will be wondering about you and praying over you long after you have left my arms?
I will lie awake at night and think about what your day was like, who is holding you when you get sick and if your sweet baby heart hurts like mine.
Don’t ever doubt that you are desired with a fierce, passionate and crazy love. And even though you’ll soon leave my arms forever, you, my precious, precious son, are wanted.
I want you today and I always will.
Kristy and Zach are biological parents to 4 beautiful kiddos under the age of 9. They have called 12 other babies their own since starting their journey as a foster family in the summer of 2012. They say yes to the hard and crazy as they follow Jesus on this journey of surrender and obedience. Kristy loves coffee, good conversation, comfy clothes and Anne of Green Gables. She is assertive and loves change as she learns to thrive in the chaos. Follow Kristy on her personal blog – This Hard Calling.