Weight

I promised a blog detailing the wonderful, joy-filled adoption of our daughters. It is coming. I promise. But today, I have heavier things on my heart and I wanted to share in the moment.

There is a little baby boy sleeping soundly on my chest as I write this. He doesn't weigh much. Only a smidge over 9 lbs. However, one would think - judging from the heaviness of my heart - that he weighed a couple tons.

I have only known Mr "I" for 7 days. I firmly believe in love at first sight. It's happened to me a couple times in my life and last Wednesday morning was no exception. The adoption of our daughters had been finalized only a week and a day when we got "the call." Fellow foster parents know what call I'm referring to.

 "...baby boy...almost 2 months old...dropped off at our office...adorable...needs a bath...length of placement is guessed to be short-term...adorable...baby boy..."

We hadn't really planned on being ready that fast, but there is nothing quite like a call like this. In my years of reading as a teenager and young adult, I always loved the stories of foundling babies. Babies who appeared on your doorstep or young ones left on church steps. There is something inside the heart of a mother (whether she is already a mother or not!) that aches and longs for the idea of a little one that needy. Someone unable to care for themselves who needs you to love them. Love them, snuggle them, care for them. A little one who has experienced the opposite of this kind of care creates a cry for love that you simply cannot resist. These calls from DCS are the modern day equivalent to that. And you fall in love. Hopelessly, fully, completely in love. Maybe because you know its right. Maybe because you can't help it. Maybe because you know that every child - no matter how long they will be in your care - deserves to be loved with the unconditional, secure, unending love of parents. Of a daddy. A mommy.

I am writing this just an hour after receiving another call. This was the call letting me know that we would be saying goodbye to Mr "I" today.

Now you may be reading and saying to yourself, "Oh, this is the reason for the weight on her heart."

I've just gotta be real with you all. I started writing this blog in my head (yes, I write them in my head first) when I was up on the couch feeding little man in the wee hours of the morning during that very first night. That weight really comes from the very first moment you feel the responsibility. From the moment you fall in love. So...instantly.

I believe that the special love of a parent to a child always comes with weight. That ache deep in your heart that is hard to describe. However (without having experienced the weight of love for a biological child personally), I believe that the weight of loving a foster child is very different. The weight of the deep, instantaneous, embedded in your heart forever love is tied together with a pain that is equally as strong. And, those two emotions are tied so closely together it is hard to tell where one begins and the other ends. It touches each aspect of your life as you care for these precious children.

When you count the fingers and toes, reveling in their tinyness, there is the weight of wondering - how did it feel for biological mommy to count them during those first hours of life.
When you hear the tiny snores and feel the weight of a soundly sleeping body, there is the weight of pain - not yours, but the pain felt by a biological parent not experiencing these moments - not even knowing where their child is.
When you are awakened with cries of night terrors or devise special feeding plans to provide nourishment that was lacking, there is the weight of anger - anger directed towards whoever could treat a precious child in such a way.
When the smile directed at you is a result of your voice and face, there is the weight of loss - knowing that this little one does not belong to you.
There is the weight of moments lost to you that you will never know, the weight of responsibility to cherish the moment you are in now - not knowing how many you will have, and there is the weight of handing the child back to another person - probably forever.
There is the weight of knowing that you have given this child a place in your heart. Forever. And the weight of knowing that you will not always be there. You won't always get to heal the hurts, or calm the fears. They will probably have to experience those again and your arms will not be there to hold them.

And, as a believer in Christ, there is the weight of trust. Trust in the all-sovereign Saviour. This weight must be the heaviest because He is the only one who sees and knows all things. He knows the desperate longing of my heart to see this child again. For eternity. He hears the fervent, tear-filled prayers that the introduction to His love received in our home - no matter how brief - would be a seed. He sees the path of this precious little one - things that have been, are, and will be. And He loves. So much more perfectly than I ever could. He is good. And He is the one we must cling to. He is the one who called us to this kind of love for others and He is the one who will hold our hearts in His love as the weight breaks them over and over again.

And there is the settled weight of peace. There is peace in resting in the care of our loving Father who knows the weight. Who has experienced the weight. Who will bring justice, right the wrongs, and wipe away our tears. In His time. In his perfect plan.

We love you, little man!

Names

I wanted to share a personal joy this morning.

From the very moment that the courts declared that we were now on a "path to adoption," people have been asking a question. It was a question that caught both my husband and me off guard and caused a little bit of panic.

"Are you going to change their names?"

I don't know for sure all the reasons this caused panic, but it really just seemed like a huge responsibility! These little ones had been through so much in their lives. We wanted to give them something from us, but also feared taking anything away from them. A new name fits well with the glorious picture of the gospel in adoption, but what to choose? How much should we change? What would mean the most to them in future days?

In this situation, we made the choice to simply add a new middle name for each of our daughters. Their birth certificate will still have their original middle names, but we will probably only verbally speak the new middle names. This way they could have something from us, but we didn’t remove either of the names that their birth parents chose for them. I hope and pray that as they grow, they will begin to realize the love and care that was given in the choosing of each of their names. From both sets of their parents.

 I wanted to share our choices with you all as well as a little letter to each of my daughters.  I'm also adding in some pictures taken during that first week, when we first met the three little girls who would become our daughters.

For our oldest daughter, Norra, we chose to add the name "Alexa." Alexa means "protector." This was the role that she took on with her younger sisters as she was often left solely responsible for the care of her two younger sisters. We wanted to honor her for her sacrifices at such a young age and also encourage her to continue to be the “protector” for her younger siblings. At the same time, it is our hope and prayer that she will quickly realize that she cannot be the ultimate protector for either herself or her sisters. We long for the day when she will recognize Jesus Christ as the ultimate protector in her life.

“Norra Alexa Brownfield, thank you for protecting your sisters. Thank you for doing your best to take care of all their needs even when you were so young and needy yourself. We are so proud of you. Thank you also for trusting Daddy and me to take over the role of protector for you and your sisters. We know that it was, and sometimes still is, very hard for you to trust us. We are so thankful that God gave you to us. We are so thankful for the opportunity to protect you. But most of all, sweet Norra Alexa, we pray for a day to come when you will choose a perfect protector to care for all the aspects of your life. A perfect protector who gave His life so that you could be safe in His arms forever. We hope and pray that the journey you have taken in learning to trust Daddy and me as imperfect protectors will create in you a longing to know the perfect protector, Jesus Christ.

Your Daddy and Mommy love you, Norra Alexa Brownfield.”

For our middle daughter, Aleesa, we chose to add the name “Lael.” Lael is a Hebrew name that means “belonging to God.” As we looked over the months of our little Aleesa’s life before we met her, we see a story. A story that will hurt when she begins to see it herself. “Belonging” is not a word that could describe her early days. This is the truth of her past, but it is not true of her future. While we are truly blessed and thankful to have the opportunity for Aleesa to “belong” to us, we want her to know from an early age that the truest place of belonging for her is in a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

“Aleesa Lael Brownfield, thank you for opening your heart to us. We know that it was very hard for you to accept love, hugs, kisses, or snuggles. We cherish the little snuggle bug that you have become! We also know that there will be days in the future when you realize things about your past that will hurt. You will cry, and we will hold you and keep loving you. We love holding you, and loving you, and reassuring you of your place in our family forever, but know that our arms aren’t quite big enough. Aleesa Lael, there is only one place where you will find true, forever belonging. That place is in the arms of our Savior, Jesus Christ. We pray that you will quickly open your heart to Him and allow Him to begin to redeem those months of pain. We pray that the love and belonging you find in our arms will open your heart to receive the perfect love and belonging in Jesus’ perfect embrace.

Your Daddy and Mommy love you, Aleesa Lael Brownfield.”

For our youngest daughter, Paula, we chose to add the name “Joylynn.” Joylynn means “joyful one” and when combined with the meaning of her first name means “little joyful one.” Paula was only 4 months old when she was placed in our arms. For all that she had been through, I was shocked to find her one of the most content, consistently joyful babies I had ever met! In the early days when my husband and I were trying to figure out how to take care of 3 new daughters all at once, this joyfulness and contentedness was one of the biggest evidences of God’s grace to us! We believe that Paula has shown true joy amidst hard circumstances and pray that this will be evident throughout her life. However, we know that the only way for true joy to continue to flourish in our daughter’s life is as a fruit of God’s Spirit in her. We pray that she will quickly realize her need for Christ and that her joy would continue to flow freely as a result of His indwelling.

“Paula Joylynn Brownfield, thank you for being our little ray of sunshine during those crazy early days. You were so flexible and hardly ever cried, even when we had to follow crazy feeding schedules to try to re-balance all the things your little body needed. Your smile was always so bright and we were thrilled to be able to celebrate your little milestones: your first toothy grin, learning to splash in the bath, and the morning I awoke panicked because you slept through the night only to be greeted by your huge smile from within your swaddle. Paula Joylynn, you have shown contented joy to us. Joy that doesn’t depend on the circumstances around you. We believe this is evidence of God’s image in you. We know that in and of yourself, you can never experience lasting joy through life’s challenges and we are so excited to introduce you to our Savior, the one who longs to live within you and provide a true joy that is unaltered by all the curves, hills, and valleys that will come in your lifetime. We pray for the day that your joy will come from an even greater reflection of God’s likeness – His Spirit within you.

Your Daddy and Mommy love you, Paula Joylynn Brownfield. “