How Does the Heart Hold So Much?

Last night and today has been one of those times, where my son, his story, and adoption has pulled so fiercely on my heart strings I don't know that I can bear it. It's those times when I feel just a slice of all that has happened in his tiny little life and I feel like I can't think about it another minute, or I might break.

Last night was a difficult night for Mekonen...for us. We have not had many of these nights since he came home, thankfully. But when we do, it's gut wrenching. These are the nights when all of a sudden I hear my son crying, which he almost never does at night. But it's not the "I'm sick" cry, or the "I just got startled out of my sleep" cry. It's a cry like I've never heard before. It's the kind of cry that comes from a far away, very sad place. I just can't describe it, but it is the worst thing to watch our child experiencing a pain we can't touch, a pain we can't take away, a pain they don't even understand. The only thing I can do, is hold him while he experiences it, love him tenderly through it, and pray God uses it in his life in mighty ways.
During the adoption process we were told about the grieving process that even young infants and toddlers go through. We know the signs, we've been educated on what happens, and how to help them through it. But it never touched us fully until we saw it. Until Mekonen is crying and holding onto me so fiercely and is hard to settle back down to sleep.

Last night was one of those times. After lots of holding and soothing him, rocking him, talking to him, he settled and I could hear his slow, steady breathing again. But transitioning him back to his crib alone would put him back in that far away place again, where I felt I couldn't reach him. We took him into bed with us for a few hours. Any movement by me and he clung fiercely to me, starting to whimper, trying to put his cheek right against mine. It took him a few hours to get into a deep, calm sleep, where he was able to finally rest.

He woke up this morning, as happy as a clam, his face shining so bright, full of a laugh so hearty and real, as if nothing had ever happened. My son is incredible. One of the strongest little things I know. We rest confident that his life beginnings will be used by God in mighty ways. That even now, at a year and a half, God is crafting a courageous and bold heart, ready to be moved by nothing but the Holy Spirit. In everything, God is good.


Amber said...

I know that cry well, and I know how hard it is to watch our little ones experience it. You are such a wonderful mother Rachel. What a gift you are to each other, and thank you for the post.

Donovan and Julie said...

Hugs to you and Meko...we all grieve together as we support our babies as they grieve. xo

Flinn said...

i just love you guys, so much. thank you for being so open about these steps.