When we committed to adopt, we knew there would be two trips with a period of waiting between the two. We didn't anticipate the wait to be terribly long; maybe three months at the most. We are now beginning the seventh month since we saw our son. It seems like an eternity ago, and most of the time I cope with the wait by NOT thinking about it. I try to stay busy and occupy my time and mind with other things; Lord knows I'm good at staying busy! But sometimes I let myself just dwell on the time we spent with K. I let myself go back there with all five senses and just grieve the fact that he's still not home. Sunday was one of those days, and honestly, I've had a hard time coming out of it. I just ache to touch, smell, hear, and see my son. I'm dying to kiss his face and snuggle his fragile little body.
The main thing that I can remember is the way his head felt. He has really fine blond hair that is buzzed close to his head (that's how all the children...girls and boys...have their hair cut at the orphanage where he lives). I just kept stroking his hair and trying to burn the way it felt into my memory. His body was cold, like a corpse. I kept trying to wrap my arms around him to cover his cold skin and warm his tiny frame.
His smell was distinct. He didn't smell sweet like Johnson and Johnson Lavender Baby Wash. Frankly, he smelled like urine. The first day his diaper was so full that its contents spilled out onto his clothing and mine. I was wet from his urine and saliva. K kept his hands in his mouth all the time. His hands were raw and bleeding from being in his mouth so much. His thumb was cracked, red, and covered with open sores. His ears were also raw with sores inside because he usually kept whatever hand wasn't in his mouth in his ear. But I didn't care at all. In fact, I didn't want to wash the pants that I had on for a long time because they smelled like K. He reeked of human excrement and soured clothing, but to me it was the sweetest smell in the world.
K didn't really look like the pictures we were given. He was much thinner and smaller than I expected. In his photos, he looked plump-faced, pink and healthy. In real life, his eyes were purple and his skin was mottled. The sparkle in his eyes from the pictures wasn't there. There were sores on his body where he had picked and scratched his own skin; probably for stimulation. He was wearing girls clothing and shoes. He had on the same dirty shirt both days we visited with him. His glasses were gone. We were told because other children would grab them and break them. He obviously couldn't see well because when we would give him toys, pictures, or a book he would bend down to put his face right up to it so he could see it. He was a beautiful, beautiful boy. I haven't seen such beauty since I first laid my eyes on Clayton.
K didn't talk at all. He grunted and hissed to show is pleasure or dislike. He giggled when we tickled him. I played with his feet, doing "patty cake" with them. He banged them together as if to say, "again! again!" So we played that game as long as he was interested. Although we couldn't talk to each other, we had no trouble communicating. I love to watch the videos of our time with K because I can hear his sounds. To me, it sounds like a beautiful song.
The four hours we spent over two days with our son was a blend of exhiliration and agony. Every second was a treasure because we knew, at any moment, the orphanage social worker would come in to tell us our time was up. Every second I frantically tried to file away in my memory because I knew it was all I would have of K until we returned to bring him home for good.
Now as we begin our seventh month of waiting, it occurs to me that this must be how God feels about us. We are dirty, covered in our own filth, but God thinks we smell like lavender body wash. Our feeble attempts to talk to God come out as grunts and hisses, but he hears them as a sweet symphony. We must look terribly unkept in comparison to the beauty of God's surroundings in Heaven, especially the way we abuse our bodies and minds with worldly things. Yet he thinks we are beautiful. He's frantically soaking in every second we choose to spend with him, knowing that we will soon return to the orphange of this world and all its depravity. All he wants is to bring us home.
The main thing that I can remember is the way his head felt. He has really fine blond hair that is buzzed close to his head (that's how all the children...girls and boys...have their hair cut at the orphanage where he lives). I just kept stroking his hair and trying to burn the way it felt into my memory. His body was cold, like a corpse. I kept trying to wrap my arms around him to cover his cold skin and warm his tiny frame.
His smell was distinct. He didn't smell sweet like Johnson and Johnson Lavender Baby Wash. Frankly, he smelled like urine. The first day his diaper was so full that its contents spilled out onto his clothing and mine. I was wet from his urine and saliva. K kept his hands in his mouth all the time. His hands were raw and bleeding from being in his mouth so much. His thumb was cracked, red, and covered with open sores. His ears were also raw with sores inside because he usually kept whatever hand wasn't in his mouth in his ear. But I didn't care at all. In fact, I didn't want to wash the pants that I had on for a long time because they smelled like K. He reeked of human excrement and soured clothing, but to me it was the sweetest smell in the world.
K didn't really look like the pictures we were given. He was much thinner and smaller than I expected. In his photos, he looked plump-faced, pink and healthy. In real life, his eyes were purple and his skin was mottled. The sparkle in his eyes from the pictures wasn't there. There were sores on his body where he had picked and scratched his own skin; probably for stimulation. He was wearing girls clothing and shoes. He had on the same dirty shirt both days we visited with him. His glasses were gone. We were told because other children would grab them and break them. He obviously couldn't see well because when we would give him toys, pictures, or a book he would bend down to put his face right up to it so he could see it. He was a beautiful, beautiful boy. I haven't seen such beauty since I first laid my eyes on Clayton.
K didn't talk at all. He grunted and hissed to show is pleasure or dislike. He giggled when we tickled him. I played with his feet, doing "patty cake" with them. He banged them together as if to say, "again! again!" So we played that game as long as he was interested. Although we couldn't talk to each other, we had no trouble communicating. I love to watch the videos of our time with K because I can hear his sounds. To me, it sounds like a beautiful song.
The four hours we spent over two days with our son was a blend of exhiliration and agony. Every second was a treasure because we knew, at any moment, the orphanage social worker would come in to tell us our time was up. Every second I frantically tried to file away in my memory because I knew it was all I would have of K until we returned to bring him home for good.
Now as we begin our seventh month of waiting, it occurs to me that this must be how God feels about us. We are dirty, covered in our own filth, but God thinks we smell like lavender body wash. Our feeble attempts to talk to God come out as grunts and hisses, but he hears them as a sweet symphony. We must look terribly unkept in comparison to the beauty of God's surroundings in Heaven, especially the way we abuse our bodies and minds with worldly things. Yet he thinks we are beautiful. He's frantically soaking in every second we choose to spend with him, knowing that we will soon return to the orphange of this world and all its depravity. All he wants is to bring us home.
Wow. What a beautiful, beautiful conclusion and picture of God's love. Still praying for you all!
ReplyDeleteTears. Beautiful. Longing for the day we see K's sweet little face plump and bright and holding cute little glasses. His sores will be healed and he will smell so sweet. He will be home and it will be like heaven to him.
ReplyDeleteI hope your sweet boy makes it home soon!
ReplyDeleteReading that I just imagined your first opportunity to give him a bath with that lavender body wash. I wonder if what I imagined is what God sees when he looks at someone before they're baptized and longs for the opportunity to wash us clean.
ReplyDeleteReading that I just imagined you giving K his first bath with that lavender body wash. I wonder now if that is what God sees when he looks at someone before they're baptized...does he long only to wash us clean. Love you, Tes.
ReplyDeleteI love the comparison. God is great and I can't wait for your precious baby boy to come home to you! I'm keeping you in my prayers!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post Tes. Will continue to pray.
ReplyDeleteThis is an awesome post. You put it perfectly, you have a way with words for sure. I hope you are holding your sweet baby boy in your arms soon!
ReplyDeleteOh my....I can't hold back the tears. I am so glad that you were able to spend that time with Krill and continue to pray that your wait to be with him again will be over very soon. I love the analogy you made at the end too....great lesson for me! Love you :)
ReplyDeleteIt's so amazing how we remember with our senses. How the touch of his head felt, his smell, his tiny body, his skin, his smile and the sound of his laugh. These senses will be in your memory forever! When I think of my baby that I lost so long ago, I remember holding her and her tiny body her precious tiny hands and her soft tender skin. No one can take this from you and no one can keep you from holding those memories so close to your heart. I praise our God for those memories and I am prying now that you will have many more memories of your precious son. I am praying the Judge in Russia will grant you may more memories by awarding you the joy of holding your son again. Love you and will keep praying until that day!
ReplyDeleteThat was beautiful! Praying for you tonight...
ReplyDeleteTears. What a beautiful day it will be when K is utterly and obviously CLOTHED in LOVE! Your love. The Love of his family. The power of heaven here on earth... beautiful! Love you guys!
ReplyDeletewow. thank you.
ReplyDeleteI just read this again, and I want to thank you for your beautiful words!! I need to read this everyday!! I love you guys, and are praying for you!!
ReplyDelete