I am haunted by little Biruk’s trusting face.  For two days in a row, I held him at the orphanage.  I felt him bond with me, give his heart to me, trust me with his life.  He was maybe 6 months old.  He was desperate for my attention, eyes locked on my eyes, mouth moving in silent words.  A smile, fully engaged and ready for what I had to offer: a song, murmured words of love and Jesus and purpose, my body rocking and swaying, the motions of Mommyhood.  Eyelids drooping gently in the bodily surrender of peace.

His terror when I laid him back in the crib.  His body tensed, his eyes flew open in panic because he was again alone.  No one to check on him no one to cradle him no one to say Biruk, you are loved, Biruk, you are cherished and special and created by God.  Biruk, you are safe.

Biruk.  I am yet another person who has broken his trust.  I have not come back.   Everything in me wishes he was in my family right now, my third child.  But in limbo he waits for…for…he waits.  I tried to fit a childhood of bonding into 2 visits.  Two times felt love is better than no felt love…try to help that brain chemistry along as best I can and hope that some other mama comes along to rock and cradle and coo in my place…and then leave.  And then leave.  And then leave.

And the next time someone picks him up, he will be more guarded.  He will give less.  He will expect less.  A little more broken, a little more hurt.  Sweet Biruk who trusted me with absolute abandon.  Abandon.  Abandoned.  Biruk.  You haunt me, little one.

Pounding out the paperwork.  Finish a pile, new pile springs up.  But it has to run out at some point!  A little more red tape cut today.  Beautiful thing.  Gotta celebrate every snip at the red tape.  Always gonna be more until my babe’s in my arms forever, so we’ll just celebrate each little snip at the red tape.  Snip snip WHEEEE!!!  Snip snip WHEEEE!!!!!!!And I am surrendered to God’s timing.  It’s an adventure and I’m excited to watch Him unveil the next step!  I’m the little red engine:  Chugga chugga chugga chugga I KNOW God can I KNOW God can…

While my darling hubby sat in his office organizing our lives on paper for taxes, Elliott and I spent the weekend park hopping.  For two days, we’ve hopped in the golf cart and hit several parks in a row…the off the beaten ones that he’d forgotten about and the exotic school playgrounds that are forbidden during the week when covered with swarms of grade school kids.

On Saturday we had the company of good friends.  Sunday, we were alone, and I watched my only child, my only child in this hemisphere, explore alone.  He started out energized with exploration, new slides to conquer, new bars to climb, new planks to cross…then his footsteps slowed…he looked around…”Mommy, will you play wif me?”  Yes, sweet boy, I will.  And I did.  But Mommy doesn’t fit in tiny spaces and Mommy can’t twist and climb like a child and I look around and see siblings brothers sisters running hiding racing and I long for my boy to be a brother.  Each day we delight in our time together.  It’s beautiful time, snacking, riding, talking about plans and birthdays and laughing…but there’s a hole in our family in our snacking riding and talking.  There’s a hole called Sister.  The Brother piece in my boy is missing and I want it filled now.

I’ve been doing pretty well, but today, I’ve been emotional.  My mother has encouraged me to embrace the emotion from which I’ve spent my life running.  Big ol’ hug for the welling wet lumpy sadness.  Waiting.  But also living each moment.  It’s a tension that I feel each day as I live live live to the fullest with Elliott and also feel the emptiness of an indefinite wait for the Sister, the Daughter, the girl with the cocoa butter hair and the heart-melting smile.