A Broken Heart

It's so hard to believe that just one short week ago we had recently arrived from China and were  combating major jet lag. This past week has been one of the longest weeks we've had. I don't think we were truly prepared for the realities of adoption. I suppose it's like any major life change. No matter how many books you read, conferences you attend, or information you absorb, you can never be fully prepared for the real thing. 

There are things about Noah that break my heart. Like tonight when I went to check on him in bed. His eyes were wide open and he was turning his head back and forth repeatedly. I know that these self-soothing behaviors are common among orphanage kids. But, honestly, it made me mad! Mad that no one took the time to hold my son and gently rock him to sleep. Mad that he had to find some way to comfort himself. Mad ... just mad! And then he spotted me.  He turned over as quick as he could and with an urgency I hadn't heard said, "Mama!" I reached for him as he reached for me. He wrapped his little arms tightly around my neck and we held each other for a moment.  But almost as quickly as he hugged me he began to pinch me. Almost as if he were saying "Where were you?" and "I want to hurt you for all the times I've been hurt." I stayed with him for a while, rubbing the scars on his stomach and chest, trying to soothe two years of hurt. How many times he has cried and had no mommy to comfort him? No more, Noah, no more.