The One With the Boomerang Boy

“What do you know to be true?”

It started with small wake ups in the middle of the night. Visions of what seemed impossible and a sense of peace mixed in with doubt if they could even take shape. As the days progressed, the visions came to life. In a weird way, my brain was ready for the call that day.

I thought the wake ups would stop then. But they intensified and bled into the morning. I caught myself not taking full breaths, telling my brain that the visions were actual truths that came to be and embracing for impact. I caught myself wondering if they were just dreams, if I had made the whole thing up, and recounting the phone calls over and over again.

Dates on the calendar started ruling the day. If I can get to this date, I’ll have clarity, direction, confirmation. Those days passed and even though some questions are answered there sure is more that needs to be known. More dates are pushed back, the waiting continues.

And so here I am.

Packing up a house, the wind and rain beating at the door and creating a pile of things longing to be unopened and set up with a mother’s touch.

Last year at this time I was in reverse: packing up a different house, sun shining, heart breaking, and throwing the piles of things that were already opened into the backseat of my car.

“What do you know to be true?”

I never stopped loving after the items left my car and life moved on.

I never stopped wondering how the impact of that decision would effect their hearts as they grew apart without the chance to know they are siblings.

I never stopped wishing things had gone different.

And so here I am about to reverse it all and still the fear exists, stronger than ever.

I was asked a few days ago in therapy what I know to be true as myself as a foster/adoptive mom. I drew a total blank. She just stared at me. “Yes you do know. Say it out loud.”

I’m an advocate.

I love.

I’m scared.

I hope.

I do hard things.

This is what I know to be true.

Time has passed, the house in ready, the unpacked boxes are already taking residence somewhere else and his crib sits in the corner. Today our foster journey with him begins once again.

Welcome home, little one. Our arms have been waiting for yours since that last day we placed you in your swing and walked away.

As our seven year old loving says,

Our boomerang boy.

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