There was a gentleman on the most recent team I had noticed had taken a special interest in a child of mine. I felt the need to go and talk with him, and I am so glad I did. Apparently there was a child he was thinking of adopting, but was still discerning if it was feasible. I was able to sit there and listen to him talk about his family and his home. He told me of all the plans they had made, and how his family was looking forward to welcoming the child home. I got to watch him with the children, and how wonderful he was with them, how they instantly loved him. There are not a lot of men who come through here, and seeing my babies smiling and laughing on this middle aged gentleman's knee was beautiful. Then to hear he might one day be the father for one lucky child was something that truly touched me. I see my babies everyday, and everyday I love them more. I know their quirks, what toys they like, who they play with, what makes them laugh, and what makes them cry. I know where they are the most ticklish, or what to do to distract them when I leave the room. When I look at these babies I see who they are, and I can not help but dream what sort of future they could have. I am an unstoppable optimist. I see every bright future possible, and can't help but believe that it truly is possible. I see the little boy who has no use of his legs, and is terribly shy, but when you take the time with him he will love you. He'll follow you around. If you stop to talk to him and wait he'll start jabbering at you and pointing, and giggling and smiling, but only if you wait for it. Most people don't wait for it, and he knows it. If you do he'll love you and he'll smile and talk, just for you. I see this little boy and think of what a family could hold for him. He is a master at getting around already. Imagine what he could do with a wheel chair? He can say one or two words, but if he had a family where he could have people give him the time and patience he needs he would just blossom! I see what it does for him when I call his name and squat on the floor to take a minute to have a conversation or to pick out a toy he'll love. (He likes the ones that roll, because then he can push it and chase it. The little tubes or cones or even the truck are perfectly delightful in his eyes and will keep him smiling and preoccupied for quite awhile). I can't help but think about it and hope for it. A child without any neurological ability in his legs isn't the first child a family thinks of adopting, especially when there are other possibilities of unknown complications. It breaks my heart to think that, because he deserves so much more, every one of my babies does. Sometimes trying so hard to be realistic when my heart is screaming that anything is possible for these children is a very wrenching thing to do. It is conflicting and exhausting. But for the first time, I heard of the possible future for a child with a severe condition, that was everything I dreamed it could be and more, and it wasn't only a hope, a dream, and a prayer. It was a reality, something that could actually happen for a baby just like mine. I wanted to cry. I needed that. I needed to know that there was hope for my babies. That maybe somewhere there was a family, a home, a life, a future waiting for them. That maybe there was a sweet man like this one just waiting for the chance to be a father to one of these children that I hold every day and love with every piece of my being. This little girl with a severe heart condition whose years might be very numbered, but makes me smile everyday. A little one who has had liver issues, and though currently doing well, learning to roll over crawl and laugh, might need a transplant someday. something she can't get unless she is adopted. Or a little boy who simply had a cleft palate and has the sweetest smile I have ever seen in all the world. I get to see their first smiles, hear their laughs, teach them to walk, see their first steps. Every time I do, I can't help but think that they should be on their own homes with a family to celebrate and cheer and cry for them and how amazing each of these accomplishments are.
Seeing that and hoping was an unlooked for gift. Knowing, that at least for one child out there all these dreams were possible was what I needed to justify my hope for all the others.
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