Dear K,
Tonight the weight of you was almost more than I could bear.
We’re visiting Poppy and as soon as the jammies came out you announced you wanted to go home to go to bed. You’re not one for traveling.
So hours after your normal bedtime I climbed in the bed with you and Sam and rocked you and sang. Jesus loves the little children. Jesus loves me. Jesus loves Kingston. Jesus loves the little spiders. I’ve got confidence. Joy to the world. All your favorites.
Sam fell asleep by the second song.
As you finally start to give in to sleep your body twitches and your breathing changes. I recognize this from when you were a baby. I laid back.
Your arms and legs draped over me.
I didn’t carry you in my belly so this is as close as our hearts have ever beenn but our hearts have spent lots of nights like this.
The first nine months of your life we went to sleep most nights like this. Usually on the couch watching Gilmore Girls as you wailed from reflux pains.
It was easier then.
The weight of you was less. I mean obviously you weighed less but also we didn’t think you needed us to be your parents forever then. It wasn’t so much. The temporary nature of it made it lighter. Not easier. Just not so heavy.
Your two year and eleven month body is heavy.
We’ve haven’t thought of this as a temporary placement for almost two years.
The last 5 months have been heaviest.
I haven’t been able to take a deep breath. You sleeping on my chest tonight helped me realize that that has been my feeling.
Things in your case took a turn no one saw coming and we’re trying to keep up.
There’s a big meeting this coming Tuesday. A big one. A big decision will be made about whether or not the decision makers want us to adopt you or not. We can’t go to the meeting but we will know the outcome Tuesday. We’re praying hard that those folks who make the decisions think about what’s best for you and for your sister and your first family as they make decisions. We’ve asked everyone who knows you to pray for this too. This makes it a little easier to breathe - to almost be able to take a deep breath.
Your Bubbie and I feel deeply that your best permanent home is with us. This is something we have thought a lot about and prayed a lot about and sought wise council about. We will do everything we can to make this happen. Even if the decision makers don’t agree this week, we’re ready with our response.
One day maybe you’ll read this letter and love traveling so much you'll be surprised you didn’t want to sleep at Poppy’s house. Maybe you will love trucks then and you won’t remember how you want to sing that Jesus loves the little spiders every night. Maybe you’ll be a cool kid and you'll be embarrassed when I tell you how much you drool and toot in your sleep (don’t worry Sam does too)! Or maybe you’ll read it and remember a hint of something about how it felt to be held and rocked to sleep. I hope you read it and realize how deeply we love you and how hard we’ve worked to be able to make you our son. I hope then I’m breathing a little more deeply.
For now, I'm going to finish these words I'm typing in my phone, try to take a picture of you asleep on my chest, and then I’m going to figure out how to lay you down without waking you up and sneak out of this bed because I know how much water you had to drink tonight and not even those nighttime diapers can handle it.
Oh and just know you’re worth it. Whatever weight it means we carry. Don’t ever doubt you are worth it. That’s what parents do.
Love you,
Mama
Tonight the weight of you was almost more than I could bear.
We’re visiting Poppy and as soon as the jammies came out you announced you wanted to go home to go to bed. You’re not one for traveling.
So hours after your normal bedtime I climbed in the bed with you and Sam and rocked you and sang. Jesus loves the little children. Jesus loves me. Jesus loves Kingston. Jesus loves the little spiders. I’ve got confidence. Joy to the world. All your favorites.
Sam fell asleep by the second song.
As you finally start to give in to sleep your body twitches and your breathing changes. I recognize this from when you were a baby. I laid back.
Your arms and legs draped over me.
I didn’t carry you in my belly so this is as close as our hearts have ever beenn but our hearts have spent lots of nights like this.
The first nine months of your life we went to sleep most nights like this. Usually on the couch watching Gilmore Girls as you wailed from reflux pains.
It was easier then.
The weight of you was less. I mean obviously you weighed less but also we didn’t think you needed us to be your parents forever then. It wasn’t so much. The temporary nature of it made it lighter. Not easier. Just not so heavy.
Your two year and eleven month body is heavy.
We’ve haven’t thought of this as a temporary placement for almost two years.
The last 5 months have been heaviest.
I haven’t been able to take a deep breath. You sleeping on my chest tonight helped me realize that that has been my feeling.
Things in your case took a turn no one saw coming and we’re trying to keep up.
There’s a big meeting this coming Tuesday. A big one. A big decision will be made about whether or not the decision makers want us to adopt you or not. We can’t go to the meeting but we will know the outcome Tuesday. We’re praying hard that those folks who make the decisions think about what’s best for you and for your sister and your first family as they make decisions. We’ve asked everyone who knows you to pray for this too. This makes it a little easier to breathe - to almost be able to take a deep breath.
Your Bubbie and I feel deeply that your best permanent home is with us. This is something we have thought a lot about and prayed a lot about and sought wise council about. We will do everything we can to make this happen. Even if the decision makers don’t agree this week, we’re ready with our response.
One day maybe you’ll read this letter and love traveling so much you'll be surprised you didn’t want to sleep at Poppy’s house. Maybe you will love trucks then and you won’t remember how you want to sing that Jesus loves the little spiders every night. Maybe you’ll be a cool kid and you'll be embarrassed when I tell you how much you drool and toot in your sleep (don’t worry Sam does too)! Or maybe you’ll read it and remember a hint of something about how it felt to be held and rocked to sleep. I hope you read it and realize how deeply we love you and how hard we’ve worked to be able to make you our son. I hope then I’m breathing a little more deeply.
For now, I'm going to finish these words I'm typing in my phone, try to take a picture of you asleep on my chest, and then I’m going to figure out how to lay you down without waking you up and sneak out of this bed because I know how much water you had to drink tonight and not even those nighttime diapers can handle it.
Oh and just know you’re worth it. Whatever weight it means we carry. Don’t ever doubt you are worth it. That’s what parents do.
Love you,
Mama
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