It's amazing how memory works.
While we were in Josiah's home state, I wrote everything I could down in the best detail I could manage. I want to give him an accurate and honest portrayal of everything that happened, in case any questions are to arise in the future. I want him to feel confident in his past and in his future. So I wrote everything-- from every interaction with his biological family members, to the way the nurses were positioned when he was born, to the apartment we called home for two weeks. I wrote down every good thing that happened, every bad.
I have read through it a few times, mostly to do some editing. My hand cramped up early on so I took to a word document to write and sometimes in my haste I make silly errors. It is surprising that only 6 weeks ago at this moment I was sitting in a hospital room miles and miles away, awaiting the birth of a boy not yet my own. It's also surprising how much has become hazy that was so clear while we were there.
I don't know for sure, as I've obviously never experienced it myself, but I feel as though my memory is like that of a woman who has given birth. The pain is all but forgotten, a baby boy in it's place.
There are some moments during those weeks that have remained clear, those memories etched forever in my mind as "special" and important.
The moment Josiah was born, I saw him, but only a second later I was looking at the face of the woman who gave him life. I watched her close her eyes, I'm not sure if it was in relief that it was finally over or so that she didn't see him right away. I can recall that moment to my mind in perfect detail even now.
I remember his little arms and legs flailing on the medical bassinet and the very overwhelming concern I had for this boy that looked far too small.
Coming out of my first shower after we arrived and hearing Jim, the new daddy, talking to his son. I remember smiling at my own reflection in the mirror.
Having a conversation about our story with our hostess and then giving her a meager gift (not nearly worth the gift she had given us) and her gracious acceptance.
Josiah's fist clinging to my finger the first time. His first eye contact. Minutes after his birth when he snuggled against my chest, his hand laying peacefully in front of his face, his cheek relaxed.
These things I remember clearly.
The hard things, while still there, aren't as clear. The absolute fear I felt after a conversation went south that might have resulted in Josiah leaving our care, while still forever in my memory as a scary time, is a lot less vivid now. While we were there, I was horrified and, if I'm honest, a little resentful of her power over our life at the time. But now that there is a distance between us and the things that make his adoption a good decision, I find myself wishing his birth mother would text more often, because I kind of miss talking to her. Now that we aren't being forgotten at the hospital, it doesn't seem like that big of a deal that they ignored us for a whole day. Now that we are home, the not knowing where anything was doesn't seem like it was that bad. Taking our 3 day old out to a strangers house in the freezing weather to be held by a whole slew of strangers (to us) doesn't seem intimidating.
The first two weeks of his life were difficult, but they make a lot of things that we encounter here seem a little easier. Going to the grocery store alone with my baby? No big thing, he's been to a grocery store and a few fast food places before with no incident. Hold him at church for the whole service? Not a problem, he pretty much lived in our laps the first two weeks. Any other challenge that might arise? He was on an airplane for a three hour flight at three weeks and totally nailed it. I've done things with this baby I never pictured myself doing in all of my years of daydreaming about a baby, and I'm so glad I did. I may not be a confident mother, but I certainly don't feel as scared as I thought I would be.
Just some thoughts as I sit here holding my little slightly over 8 pound baby (unofficially) as he drifts off for his final nap of the day. He is getting three naps a day and sleeping through most nights with no incident. Though he eats every 3 hours, we have one 4 hour stretch at night that is slowly expanding, much to my excitement. His day includes some "tummy time", following toys around with his eyes, following my voice around and reading a few books. We also listen to and sing along with Christian nursery rhymes (thank you so much, Analisa! Side note; I'm a musician and for the first two weeks of Josiah's life I couldn't think of a single nursery rhyme. I could hardly think of songs with lyrics, plenty of melodies of classical pieces. It was as if I have never been to Sunday School). My absolute favorite thing we do in our routine, however, is our long walks in the stroller and getting out of the house for errands. He loves the stroller for deep sleeping, and I love my stroller of freedom. We have walked to the Lampstand for drinks, to work for a couple of hours every week, to the grocery store, just around town and have attempted a few times to walk with the dogs (still working on that).
So far being a mom is going pretty well. I'm pretty sure I'm pretty fortunate that he has been so easy going so far.
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