Sunday, February 3, 2008

Down Day

In the last week, we've received ten new photographs taken of Baby A, half from a traveling family and half from Gladney. I am thrilled to have these, but here's how it makes things hard: one of my coping mechanisms during this time is to allow the details of Abenezer to fade in my mind. I'm constantly--and I mean constantly--aware of his beautiful existence in this world, but so that I can function, I avoid looking at his pictures. Having new ones come brings back into very sharp focus the reality of this baby, who may or may not get to be ours.

Ted is a one-track minded sort of guy. Sometimes I wish I were more like this. I think it's true of a lot of women that we can juggle many different ideas in our heads at once. I can laugh at a movie, get engrossed in a book, have dumb conversations with pals about pop culture, and get excited about the butternut squash soup I'm making all while being very aware of a life in Ethiopia that my heart is achingly bound to. He's become sort of like that lyric in a Lisa Loeb song, "the ghost in the back of my head." He never goes away, and I don't want him to.

So for the past few days, the ghost became slightly less vaporous. As my friend Jill said when I showed her the new pictures, "He seems like such a real person in these." Yes ma'am, he does. He's in the bright sunshine in all of them. In one, he's on his tummy, chewing the fingers of his right hand, head cocked to one side, eyes smiling, hair so soft and warm. In another, he's again on his tummy, looking high up at someone standing over him, revealing that he has tan stripes on his neck from when he lays on his back in the sun. In a couple of the photos, he was sick with a cold, so he looks droopy and sleepy.

In all of them he's breathtakingly lovely. In all of them he's real. For the last few days, he's stopped being the ghost in the back of my head, and it's hard as hell to take.

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

It must be so hard to both wonder if he will be "yours" all the while knowing that some piece of him already is. I am crossing every digit I have for you. I know you feel lucky to be blessed with this child but he is so lucky to have parents who are fighting for him.

Those last few lines you wrote really hit me. I have a 2 year old bio son with autism and I look at him and he is so beautiful he takes my breath away - but I can't reach him much of the time. He is physically close to me but he can be sooo far away.

I appreciate your blog. Y0ou have a way of capturing emotion and experience that I can connect to.

I am praying for you and baby A.

Kerri said...

Such trying times...
Thinking of you as you get through this,
Kerri and Ruby

Stacie said...

I can almost see those pictures- you describe them so well. I can also hear your hurt - my heart aches for you. Prayers, as always, are with you all!

The Roberts Family said...

Can't imagine the difficulty of this wait for you ... know that I keep praying. Thanks for sharing ... you're not alone in this. Blessings, ~Shelly

Stephanie said...

My heart aches for you. I wish there were words to relieve the pain. :( But alas, I can't find them.

Know that we are praying for you, my friend.

Jana said...

the one you sent me was so lovely--If I were you, I would simply not know how to feel. Still praying for grace and patience for you.

jill said...

this limbo that you are in feels endless to me, i can't imagine what it feels for you. prayers for you that you feel peace and that time goes quickly.

Courtney Rose said...

Dearest Lori-
You and Ted are in my thoughts daily. I don't know what to say besides the fact you are all in my prayers- and that I think this sucks. Big time.
xoxo,
Courtney

graceling said...

Lori, I can only imagine how you feel. But is is overwhelming, even in my immagination.

I'm so sorry- and I'm praying for you.

Jennifer and Jody said...

We pray for you and for Baby Abe every day. You definitely are not alone - so many people you have never even met think of you each day...Please don't lose the faith.

emily said...

What an honest post Lori. Thank you for being transparent here- it helps those know how best to pray.

the albertsons said...

I'm sorry sweet friend. I have a glimpse into how you feel. This is beyond hard.
Praying...
love
becca

Natalie Fournet said...

So very sorry sweet friend! I can't imagine how difficult this is...as nothing can prepare you for this most unusual roller coaster. I am praying for you and all involved!

Cindy said...

I am a lurker who keeps checking for good news. I hope that Abe is yours very soon. I also have EVERY digit crossed for your family and hope that you get wonderful news soon.