This path to motherhood. This winding, dangerous, prickly path has not landed me where I had planned. It has taken me through the valley of the shadow of death and my cup has often felt empty. Wanting. I have been lead behind waters filled from my tears and comfort has been hard sought. Through the infertility. Through the adoption process. And through mothering.
Mothering is not easy. It is a price paid in the sweat of a fever and the tears of piercing words spoken by a heart that is hurting. When a child is confused and scared they become angry. When all is ripped away from them and suddenly they are thrust into a family that is not their family and told to behave and listen and obey. But their little hearts are longing for the home and a peace that they have never known. And you, the instant mamma, the sudden daddy, you are left with the pieces and the pain. Broken hearts litter the family room floor and words cut like razors to your core. And your heart, battered and bruised tries to reconcile the pieces and fit together how this ever came to be your dream. And you wonder if it ever really was. And if maybe things would have been different.....
And then you scold yourself for even having such thoughts. Because deep down, a midst all the rubble of broken attachments and misguided trust, you know that there is a child that just wants to be loved. And as much as you want to hear that simple word-mamma-and know that it is directed at you, you also know that there may never be a time that it comes. And yet you will wait. You will memorize the verse that tells you how mercies are new each morning. And you will tell yourself that if you get new mercies, they do too. And you will find yourself lending your heart to their hurts and registering the pain of longing when they say that they only have one friend at school. And you find yourself falling with them, each bruised knee a bruise to your heart, and each hurt feeling a scar on your soul.
And you will fight. You will fight for that peace. You will fight for a classroom and a teacher and anyone who will advocate for this child when you cannot. Because you know. You know that sometimes the most difficult to love need that love the most. And you know that mistakes are never made when it comes to family and how they are chosen. And that there is a plan. Even when that valley is dark as midnight and the waters are not still. There is a plan. And you have but one job: to love.
But sometimes you need reminded. So you may find yourself sitting alone in a hotel room on a work trip, or flipping through Facebook or a blog and you might stumble upon a YouTube. And recognizing the artist name, you follow the link and find it is a love song, sung by a mamma for her babe. And you remember that promise, the one that was given and the one that you made. You remember what it really is to love, and what it feels like to fall.