Soundtrack

I heard a song this past fall that brought our adoption process full circle for me.  My husband would totally think I’m crazy for this, so let’s hope he doesn’t follow my blog.  Ha!

For those of you new to our story, you may have to go back to this 2010 post when we first started our adoption process from Nepal.  But in a [rather large] nutshell, here's the backstory.

In the summer of ’10, I volunteered to babysit a newborn baby boy for 8 days.  The baby was the son of a teenage mom who was part of a ministry called Young Lives in Nebraska.  A friend of ours from church was an adult leader in that ministry and took these young girls away on a retreat to Colorado every year.  The young moms had to find sitters for their babies unless they were still nursing.  One young mom was in need of a sitter for her 4-week-old baby boy.  Even if my husband was hesitant, I knew it was something I could do.

I set up the old bassinette in our master bedroom, I washed off the old baby bottle drying rack and set it up in my kitchen next to the sink.  I brought out fresh blankets from the linen closet. 

When the young mom dropped the baby off at my home, she was expressionless.  They brought with them a suitcase of clothes that reeked of too much fabric softener and Febreeze, a baby swing and a car seat.  Our friend asked the young mom if she was ready to go, leaving our house with her baby behind and the young mom just nodded, wide eyed, both arms extended with locked elbows and handed her baby over without kissing his head, saying good-bye, without so much as looking me in the eyes.  It was a sad moment, it really was. 

I spoiled that baby for days.  I wholeheartedly loved our 3 a.m. dates over dirty diapers and formula and snuggling.  I loved taking him to the store, to steamy hot t-ball games (that was good for a laugh because all our friends did a double-take and knew there was no way I had had a baby).  I had to work one afternoon at church for a wedding and I dropped him off with a sitter, but when I returned and ran an errand with him to Target, I know I saw his first smile.  Precious!  Over the course of these few days, my husband sang a song to him that was quite fitting for his awkward life – “The Eye of the Tiger” from Rocky.  We wanted that boy to grow up to be strong, courageous, a fighter winning against the odds.  We sang it over and over to him, pumping his tiny arms in the air as he lay on our floor sprawled out on a receiving blanket.

When the day came for the young mom to pick him up and take him back, I never got a phone call when expected.  I figured they were driving all night from Colorado and they were just running late or had car trouble.  Lunchtime came and still no call.  Around 1 p.m. and I made a call to our friend to see if she was back yet with all the girls.  They had been back since 7:30 a.m.  It was the responsibility of this young mom to call me and to pick up her son and she never did.  I learned more of her story over the phone and while it’s her story to tell, I will say that on this retreat, she questioned her future as a teen mom raising a baby boy.  Despite our adoption situation, I offered immediately that I would give this boy a home if he needed one, be it temporary or permanent.  I was willing to dump our international adoption plans if that is what God wanted me to do.  I was willing to become a certified foster parent, or jump head first into a domestic adoption.  I had bonded and I was in love!  I had all boy stuff, everything I needed to take care of him.  When the young mom finally arrived after 2pm, my heart broke saying good-bye to the baby and I cried and told him to be good to his mommy as I clicked his carrier into the seatbelt in the van.  I stood in the driveway as they drove off and then I sobbed behind the closed door of my home after they had driven out of site. 

The very next day we were driving from Lincoln to Chicago for our annual trip home for the Leadership Summit.  I was still heartbroken and simply silent in the car.  My husband thought it was sweet that I had bonded with this tiny one in just a matter of days and told me I’d have no trouble bonding with our future adopted daughter.  I couldn’t even respond.  I simply cried a waterfall of tears as I stared out the passenger window.  Then “Eye of the Tiger” came on the radio as we were just outside Omaha.  The sobs came hard.  Oh, I missed that boy and felt like a part of me was missing!

Fast-forward 2 years.  Two years, one failed adoption, a new job moving us across the country, 2 boys and a referral in hand from China for a waiting little girl.  

I was driving home from school with my boys on Halloween and “Eye of the Tiger” was playing on the radio.  I think of that sweet baby boy and then I think of my waiting daughter.  As mentioned in my previous post, Hu Jing means “quiet tiger."   I almost had to pull over.  I really thought of the lyrics as I sang them through both sad, but now mostly happy tears.  What a song of challenge, of fighting for the dream, for the win, fighting to stay alive.  I think it’s an appropriate song for our haphazard adoption, for that sweet baby boy who must be 2 1/2 now, for the daughter waiting for us in China.  We have gone the distance and gotten back on our feet.  We have fought just to keep our adoption dream alive – the dream of our Quiet Tiger waiting for us in China.

Now go sing the song because I know I've gotten it into your heads!