Saturday, November 7, 2009

The Deep

Sometimes you forget. Sometimes you forget the depth of what this is. This adoption stuff.

I guess you have to, because if you set it always in the forefront of your mind you will be frozen. It's so big. It's so much. Just what these kids have done, come from their first family to be woven into yours...it's so much. And so, when they have carved out that spot in your heart of hearts, that fierce love for them has gripped you...you forget. You forget sometimes, what they call that "primal wound." They might forget, for a while, too. Or not really realize or understand it if they are so young. Not yet. But its there.

The other night, Gabey had crawled into my bed. We all were sleeping but he started fussing in a dream. He whimpered. Turned over. Then, sleep-shouted clearly and loudly, "Don't leave me!"

Oh!
Instantly wide awake, my breath taken.

He has never, ever, said that. Not awake, not asleep. He does say "I want to go with you!" And with ferocious toddler power, "That's MY mommy!" But he has not said this. And he has not said this with that angry hurt sad deep cry.

And I wondered, was he just dreaming of the comings and goings in our busy house? I don't think so. This had a different quality. Not only because it was 2 a.m. But it was more.
I know it, I heard it, I felt it.
This was his hurt.
My boy's hurt.
His mom died. He was taken to the orphanage at eleven months. He was left.
It is primal.

And so I snuggled in close to him. I whispered, "I'm here." And then, "I'll never leave you." He relaxed back into sleep. And I lay awake, picking up the shattered bits of my heart.

15 comments:

Stephanie said...

Ow. Goes right through the heart, that one.

Thankfulmom said...

I'm with you on this. If I let myself really feel my children's loss and pain...it opens me up to so much sorrow. It is easy to forget it, until something happens like your little one's dream. Recently Eby began to talk, for the first time, about his mommy dying. He is 4 1/2 and is beginning to process his sorrow.

I love stopping by your blog.

Lisa

Christine said...

Oh, little man, that is deep. Made my heart ache.

Zoe said...

Tears!

Over-Caffeinated X 4 said...

Oh my goodness, I just clicked over to your blog from Kristi Johnson's. I am a Catholic mom on WAY too much coffee too (my blog is Over-Caffeinated!) :) Anyway, this post was so moving. I have wondered so many times when my kids would start to know 100% without a doubt that I will never leave them. I wonder if they will ever lose that little touch of fear that it could happen again?

Denise said...

Yep... started my morning in tears too.

Jen said...

Ouch.

courtney rose said...

brought me tears....

The Albertsons said...

and your there to help heal the wound...
sammy has this cry. it's one cry... very rare. but it's deep, it's wounded. i know what it means.
it hurts.

huyoungheaven said...

Thanks for you honest words about your little boy's hurt.

Rebecca said...

Tears just came to my eyes.

I often look at Eli and think of how innocent and naive he is. And, how one day he'll come to know his story. And I wonder what he'll think. How he'll react. And it makes me hurt for him. Because I just want to comfort him. And to let him know that he's loved.

Lauren said...

Thank you so much for sharing this!

I am a friend of Teresa Rieke's -- we go to their church and my husband is the Youth Pastor. She gave me your blog address because we are beginning the process to adopt from Ethiopia! :)

I'll be following along!

Missfit said...

Oh, my heart just breaks for your Gabey. I have a Gabey of my own. He's my biological son, Gabriel, whom I call my Gabey Baby. He often thrashes about in his dreams as well. I can just imagine hearing what you heard - how heartwrenching.

I will continue to keep you and your family in my prayers.

The Busters said...

Wow, this brought tears to my eyes. Thank you so much for sharing. I haven't even met my child yet but I often wonder how hard it is going to be to talk about their story and how I hope I can do everything in my power to let him know how deep my love is.

Jamey... said...

Our daughter (not home yet) was also 11 months when she was brought to an orphanage. It's just heartbreaking to hear that pain coming through, but good to know that when given a safe place to feel it, it will come.