I feel like I did the night Syrus was born. He was born a month early -- without notice, without time to finish preparing the nursery, without my hospital suitcase packed -- and I was suddenly thrust into a whirlwind of crying and freaking out, trying to figure out how I was going to do this when I hadn't had time to mentally prepare to be a mom. And here I am again. Sure, the process is different, but today it still feels like a shock to the system. I am going to be a mom.
And yes, I am already a mom, but not a mom to Vlad. I am a mom to Syrus -- I know what Syrus is like, which foods he refuses to eat, how he likes to be rocked to sleep, when he wants to watch Sesame Street, why he is grumpy around 5pm. I know these things because I am his mom. I have spent two years getting to know all the hairs on his head, every cry, each one of his laughs, all the needs he has. I know Syrus. But this is where my anxiety is coming from -- I don't know Vlad. Not at all. I have a few photos and bits of information about him. I've heard a few pieces about his personality. And that is all -- which is why this seems so crazy and ridiculous. That we are going to get on a plane and bring a stranger back with us!
Of course, when I think about it, I had the same vague information on Syrus when he came into the world -- I had a few ultrasound photos, but that was about it. I didn't really know him. The irony is I actually know MORE about Vlad than I did about Syrus before he was born. I know that Vlad has Down syndrome but when Syrus arrived, I was completely blindsided by the news that he had it. I know that Vlad has lived in an orphanage for 3 and a half years, taking music class and surrounded by kids his age. I know that Vlad's parents couldn't or didn't want to raise him as their son. However, I don't know if knowing all of this is more or less comforting as I take Vlad in my arms for the first time as our son.
Maybe this is the reason for my panic this morning. Having spent the last number of weeks directing the musical, I am in the habit of calling the shots and molding and shaping the story, of correcting things that just don't look right and having people listen when I say to do it this way or that way, of providing the vision and guiding the process. There is comfort in sitting in the director's chair. I don't have to TAKE direction. I give it. And here I am, about to get on a plane and go into a story where I am certainly NOT the director. At all.
Awwwww, man! Not this lesson again!! This is the lesson God is always teaching me. ALWAYS. I get to play "director" in my job but not in my life. HE is calling the shots and molding and shaping this story. HE is correcting things that don't look right and expects me to listen when He says do it this way or that way. HE is providing the vision and guiding the process. Not me. In the words of Nacho Libre, "Sucks to be me right now!"
Or does it? I am always slightly relieved when a show I am directing is over, because so is the responsibility and the worry and the organizing and the managing and the problem-solving and the late nights and, well, all of it. It's not my job anymore. I can rest and not be in charge. I can just play my part instead of direct.
Ok, God, I get what you are saying here. You have this one planned out. For me. For Vlad. For all of us. It's not my job to have all the answers and direct this one. I don't have to know Vlad. YOU know him. Every hair on his head. Every cry. Every laugh. Every need. Every piece of the story YOU have been directing in his life for the last 3 and a half years. I get to enter stage right into his life, not to direct it, but to play the part of his mom. And that IS my role. I'm not the director of his story. I'm a part of it.
And I gotta say, that takes away a lot of my anxiety all of a sudden -- just remembering who is in charge here. I guess I just needed a word from the Director. And by Director, I certainly don't mean me. :)
This is so awesome. Great analogy.
ReplyDeleteYou are such an amazing person. Blowing my mind- every time I read your blog. Tearing up-time after time- I am in awe of your strength, your vulnerability and your love. Vlad is a very lucky little boy. In life- I know you're an incredible director- with vision, charisma, and passion. Now- it makes my heart soar to think that you're taking on this new role. My thoughts and love are with you all!
ReplyDeletewhat a great post and so much of what is going through my head and heart right now! Our son Will (who is now 3) was born over 6 weeks early. We weren't expecting our travel "call" to come when it did, so I feel those same emotions I felt 3 short years ago.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely hope we can meet while we are "in country"!
Corbett this is beautiful. I will be praying for your trip. I can't imagine how you will feel to put your arms around your son for the first time :)
ReplyDeleteJamie (Mouw) Fenley
Lights, camera...action!!! You go bring Vlad home! I can't wait to meet him one day. His name alone means he belongs with us. And don't forget...perfect love casts out all fear. Love you, cuz.
ReplyDeleteNianna
That is beautiful! Because we have a perfect director in our lives (tho Beauty was pretty awesome!) He is placing your son Vlad into your arms--He has been confirming it this whole process. Will it be easy--I really doubt it--may be the hardest thing you ever do--but will it be worth it? OH YES (to borrow from Gaston). When I hold my 5 yo daughter, home 1 year this month from China, I KNOW God orchestrated and directed to put her in our family. NO DOUBTS! He has a plan, He is God! We will be praying for you all on your incredible adventure.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations. I am so incredibly excited for you, Josh, and Sy. I am praying for you and your family. Also, you are a beautiful writer and your words are so true. =)
ReplyDelete