“Don’t Leave, Mommy”

He whispered this before I left his room tonight. Just moments before he’d said with an ear-to-ear grin “I get to cuddle with Mommy!”

I’ve been hesitant to post details of some of the attachment struggles we had, early on, with Caleb–and likely will still refrain in order to maintain some sense of privacy in this diary with which I’ve invited mostly-random strangers from places like Malaysia and Lithuania.

But his vulnerable little heart’s request tonight was a watershed moment.

Since I first noticed him jump into the arms of a friend-to-me-but-stranger-to-him (whom he’d met in the parking lot) and, not too long after, grasp the hand of a woman who’d simply offered a smile at the farmer’s market, I had a sinking sense we were facing that which most parents who adopt dread.

Attachment issues.

And, I suppose seasoned moms aren’t as susceptible to all the emotions that can come from a child who responds to their mail carrier in a way most children reserve for their parents only. I wasn’t as mature. I’m too insecure. It hurt to watch my little guy find safety in people not yet classified “safe”. Wet kisses on strangers faces, no matter how enamored those strangers were with my children, turned my stomach.

So Nate & I hunkered down. We hedged in. We guarded Mommy-Caleb time like the holy grail. And we prayed.

Fast forward 4 months, and we began to see the signs of true bonding. My little guy looking for me among a room full of adult legs through which to weave in and out. He asked for me to hold him at night. And although his friendliness to strangers was still evident, it became tempered — sometimes even with a look first to mommy to see if this person was safe.

And tonight, just 3 days away from the six month anniversary of our “Gotcha Day”, I got a gift from God. These words were no magic bullet indicating our struggles with attachment are over, but they were a simple, sweet reminder that nothing is impossible with God.

Now despite this, and that the process to get to “July 10, 2009” was wrought with many curveballs, our transition home has been a banner experience. So smooth. But as we talk about our next adoption(s), we realize that we aren’t immune to bumps in the road … and, even more so, that adoption isn’t just another road to “achieve” the American dream of the perfect home, career-path, car and family.

However small it may have been, tonight was a little reminder that nothing is forever doomed. No child is permanently scarred. No situation is too far gone for the hand of God.

And adoption … well, it’s sort of like choosing to put yourself on the front lines of the battle. You will likely see some incredible wounds and even be wounded too, as a result.

But you just may get to be one of the first to spot the enemy’s surrender.

God always wins.