This was written on September 5. I thought I had posted it, but apparently had not... So here goes...
I brought him home from the hospital yesterday. After an afternoon of snuggling and learning how to administer medications, we picked up Little Man and settled into our life together. I just didn't know it would be such a short one.
Some may say I'm crazy for loving him after less than 24 hours of knowing him. Some say I shouldn't grieve the fact that he's gone, but I do. I spent weeks praying for him, talking about him, yearning to meet and hold him, and preparing for him. I anticipated his arrival with the same anxiety and excitement that new moms anticipate their own child's arrival; whether it be by birth, car, or plane.
I loved on him for the time that I had him, and then I handed him back over exactly 19 hours after meeting him for the first time. Not knowing is the worst part. Knowing that court is in session, but not knowing what is happening is like slow torture. And then the text comes, "He's going home."
I took the news like a champ for a while. I was at work, busy. Walking into church, though, where everyone has been praying for this precious little life for weeks and anticipating his arrival along with me... Became a different story. The tears came and then grieving began.
And the question I couldn't get out of my head... If losing one is this difficult after only one night, then how in the world am I going to let go of Little Man?? It will be painful. It will be hard. I'm going to struggle. But is there any way to prevent this from happening? The only way I could think of is to not love them in the first place. To separate myself from them and hold them at arm's length so that it hurts less when they leave... What a crock!
I am called to love without measure for that is what Christ did for me. I am called to love radically and without reserve, even though I know it will hurt me in the end. People may call me crazy, but bring it on. If loving the wounded and protecting the vulnerable make me crazy, then start looking for my straight jacket, because that is my calling. I am not to live by a spirit of fear. I choose not to be afraid... I choose to love without limits or a timetable. If I have 3 years or 3 hours with a child, I want them, overall, to feel loved by the Savior. Let my life point back to Him.