I had a crazy dream last night, and it seemed strangely symbolic to me, so I thought I'd pass along my thoughts.
My family found themselves at the hospital. There was no explained reason, really. We were just there, along with both my parents and Ryan's. And there, there was my baby. I had given birth to her and then, just, forgotten her for a couple weeks or more. She was healthy, and I'm not sure exactly why she hadn't come home yet. And the nurses kept telling me that they'd been wondering when they were going to meet her mommy, wondering why I hadn't been there before to take her home.
And she was sooo beautiful. She had the start of these gorgeous green eyes and slightly reddish hair. And I looked into her eyes, just like I'd done with my first two, and I feel in love. And I wondered myself, why hadn't I been there before? How had I just forgotten her for so long? The nurses told me that she was being discharged to me that day-they'd just been waiting for me. I started to panic because the infant car seat was still in our shed at home. We weren't prepared for her. And everyone asked what her name was, and without consulting Ryan at all, I told them it was Callie Joy Hanson. (We've been thinking of Caylie Joy, were we to ever have another girl). My Callie.
And then, I forgot her again. The doctor came into the room and apologized that the nurse had mistakenly left peanut butter in the play area of the waiting room, and Ella was having an allergic reaction. And I panicked and the dream changed and became all about Ella and Robby. And Callie Joy was forgotten.
It's hard for me, sometimes, to really focus on the kids we are adopting. Of course we want them. Of course they are ours. But we don't know them yet. And we're still parents to these two amazing kids who need us every day. And there's so much paperwork to get through, and we don't even have a referral yet to fall in love with. And so, sometimes, our Congo kids are forgotten. They're waiting for me to come get them, why haven't I come and gotten them yet?
And we're not prepared. We got Robby bunk beds for his birthday last week, so we do have a bed for "Robby's brother," which is how my kids refer to what we hope will be our son, but what about their sister? Obviously, this isn't really a problem, and we'll put another bed in one of the rooms. But there is a general feeling of panic after that dream, why am I not ready for my babies? The answer of course, being that I'm working on it. We're getting ready for our babies to come home to us, and they're not going to be here tomorrow.
But it's hard. It's hard knowing that somewhere, across the world, my babies are waiting for me, and their caretakers are wondering, why hasn't their mother come to take them home? Why isn't their mother here to hold them and love them and feed them and be their mother? I don't even know their names... Or their faces.
But I love them. And I can't wait to hold them in my arms and hear someone tell me "They're going home today. We've just been waiting for you."