The other day at the end of a meal the conversation found its way back to Ethiopia. This is a very common occurrence. Our little ones share about their life before they came to live with us.
Their memories are very much like mine of my childhood. It is what it is. Children don't put value judgements on experiences or share the unbelief that I feel at particular circumstances that they share. Their life is just that, life before America.
Some of the things that they share are hard to hear. Life in a third world country is very different than life here in the USA.
While putting Sweet Pea to bed that evening she lowered her voice while talking to me so that Sunshine wouldn't hear.
They have been through so much Mommy. They are so little to have gone through all of that. They are such amazing kids!
I completely agree and am so glad that she is recognizing that her little sister did not grow up down the street. Her first five years were very different from Sweet Pea's.
My friends who have adopted tell me that this is good that they are sharing so much about their life. I find it difficult to know what to say at times.
My precious Little Buddy is definitely grieving his life there. It is so hard for me to help him. Between the language barrier and three year old comprehension his hurts are difficult to pinpoint. He had major loss as he was turning two. I am pretty confident that no one took the time to help him through the process at that time.
Overall he is a happy, silly, adorable little boy. He is very obedient and has completely bonded to Stand-Up Dad and me. Maybe it is because of this that he feels safe enough to grieve in my arms.
I want to make his world OK and I can't! My mother love comes out and I work to protect his heart and make him feel safe, but it doesn't seem quite enough. I am praying that God will cover over his hurt and heal the broken parts. I know because of this brokenness that he will be a different man someday than if he had not gone through it. May God bring beauty from the ashes, because there are a lot of ashes.
If anyone reading this has thoughts to share, I would love to hear them. I have a call into my social worker, but she is out of town.
I feel so privileged to call this little boy my own. I have just never felt so much at a loss as to how to help one of my children. I assume the phrase Time heals all wounds is appropriate here. But I can't just wait this out. Please pray for us as we pray through this process.