She cried.  Parents of adopted children will know what a milestone this is.  Institutionalized children learn quickly, experience as their tutor, that crying gets you nowhere, that noise will net disdain before it nets touch, so they clam up.  For three months I have laid her down at night and not heard a peep from her until the morning.  With the other four, this would have been cause for celebration.  But with Maggie, it has signaled that we still weren’t safe enough for her, that this silence had not yet been unlearned.  She lays in bed in the morning, eyes open, totally still, and waits for us to notice that she is awake.  I have yearned for her to call out for me, to make some indication that she is awake and would like to be up.  Silence.  Until Sunday morning when I heard her little bunny hop come down the hallway.  Laid in bed chewing on my lip, resigned to wait for her to come to me even if it took forever, listening to her funny crawl make it’s way closer.  It was a good sign.  She is now comfortable enough to get herself out of bed in the morning.  But she was still silent.
And then last night, our sleep was interrupted by the sad sound of her.  She was inconsolable.  It was the sweetest sound.  She has learned that if she cries out, someone will hear and come.  In fact, six someones heard and came.  And there we all were in her room in the middle of the night, the Smalls concerned for this new noise as they rubbed the sleep from their eyes, my mama’s heart growing and growing.  So I rocked her back to sleep and whispered in a language she can only partially decode that I hear.  That I will always come.  Mama will always come.  And I dreamed as I rocked of a day when I can teach her about a Father who will too, and with an absolute certainty and stability I can never offer.  Not really.  But until she understands that, I will happily stand in.  Will rock her in the middle of the night, our tears meeting up on her cheeks as she settles in to the certainty of mama and will whisper a thousand thanks to the Father who ordained that she be born where she was and then brought home so we could be hers.  My heart is full.
This is me being real.  And thinking it’s a least a little crazy that a middle of the night, whole family awake, baby scream fest should be what is making me smile.  But I never claimed to be anything but a little crazy, so you prolly knew what you were getting yourself into when you started reading.

2 Replies to “cry.”

  1. That just made we cry, thank you very much. Little Maggie is so very blessed to be a Vos … Oh how He loves her. Celebrating this milestone with you my friend. ~ sheri


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