Four Years Old

The Boss is four years old today. We celebrated last night with my sisters and their families. The Boss was thrilled with the whole celebration entertaining his fans with funny exclamations of delight at each of his presents, especially the "transforners" . He was funny and delightful the entire evening, enjoying spending time with his older cousins. Actually, he generally is funny and delightful when he wants to be. Sometimes he would rather be demanding, ornery, stubborn, and unbelievably strong-willed. To be fair he's had a lot of modeling of not-so-cooperative behavior spending his whole life with a long succession of traumatized kiddos who often make him the target of their misplaced anger.

He's always been a little bitty guy, born premature and playing catch up ever since. He didn't sit up until 9 months, walked at 19 months, and on his second birthday had a whopping vocabulary of 5 whole words (His first word was "kitty". "Mama" would have been a nice choice). He's very particular about his clothing and food, being overly sensitive to textures and smells. He's still working on some motor skills that Seamonkey has been adept at for some time and on his 4th birthday is yet to be potty-trained. Despite his delays he is very fortunate. His, birth mother was incarcerated for most of her pregnancy sparing him the difficulties and disabilities that afflict most of his five older biological siblings. It is likely, given the family history, that he was prenatally exposed to drugs and alcohol at some point prior to his birth mother's imprisonment.

Yet, especially at this time of year, it's hard not to think about and pray for his birth mother. Case worker reports state that she had "loving concern for all her children" even though she was unable to parent them. Nurses' notes following his birth document their very few days together. He was released on Christmas day and placed in two different foster homes before coming to me at 7 days old. His birth mother never saw him again. He was an unexpected blessing I thought would only be with me for a few months. I thought of her often as I held him when he was so tiny and it made me sad. I wonder if she wonders about him and thinks of him on the day of his birth. I can't help but think of how different his life would be if he had stayed with his original family who stuggle with decades-long drug addictions. I thank God that he has a new family who love him and can't imagine life without him and who will to the best of their ability raise him to love Jesus. Although it is a wonderful and blessed thing, adoption always involves loss. Loss of dreams and expecations, of heritage and biological history. And so I pray for his first mom whose many children are being raised by others, that her loss would be eased, that she would be freed from her addictions, and that any other children that may come after would be protected from the debilitating effects of drug and alcohol exposure. Most of all I pray that she will know Jesus so that when we meet her again one day we will all be part of the same "adoptive family".