I would protect her

 I knew this day was coming. My heart has waited in anxious anticipation, knowing that it would hurt. Today was that day. 

"I would protect her. I would be the best protector of her." he said. 

And I knew he was right.

 I had always known it. I said it years ago to a friend: My biggest fear is his compassionate heart. That when he knows he has a little sister and other siblings, he will so fiercely want to protect them. And that protection will cause him pain. 

It started at the dinner table. My heart was already heavy from a hard day. Years of hard days that seem to keep cumulating into one more shuffled step forward. Our conversation turned to birth parents and adoption, which isn't something new. We have always had open conversation about adoption and family-siblings and grandparents that we don't get to see or have never met. The older kids know they have siblings, but tonight was the first time that the Man Cub realized he did too. And he became drawn to the reality that he has a little sister out there. 

And my heart is so broken. My heart is so broken for our kids who have family and siblings that they have never known or who were taken from them. I mourn for the children we would have welcomed in an instant if we had been able. My heart aches at the brokenness of this world and the amount of loss a tiny human is expected to bear. 

I have watched the pain of loss ravage the hearts of my babes and I stand there, helpless in this barren world. I have watched them fiercely guard and protect as best as they can, with what they are able and it hurts to watch them mourn the loss of what so many of us take for granted. 

Because he would be the best protector.  It is his nature, the fiber of his very being. Three of my children feel this to their core-it is who they are made to be. Warriors of for the vulnerable. 

I have no silver lining tonight. I have no words of wisdom to wrap this up in a tidy package and send to the world like a balloon of hope. Because hard things aren't carried away to the clouds by some helium and a string. Hard things sit heavy in our souls until we can work through them. Some hard things cannot be solved on this side of eternity. 

So tonight all I can do is snuggle that sweet boy. Affirm that yes, he would be the best protector, because he has learned well from his big sisters. I will try and sooth the ache that is beginning in his heart. An ache formed of loss that he hadn't known existed. And we will keep talking. I will keep telling him that she is loved and cared for, which is more than I know of others. I will keep the door open for questions. And I will love him harder for his hurt. 



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