For days, maybe weeks, I've been feeling a nudging to write this post. No idea how or what it will turn into, but bear with me while I try and transform some of the thoughts in my head into words.
I've been thinking about adoption...a lot lately. Our lives are by no means tranquil or empty. So, it's not that I feel the need for more children. Life in the Bombardier household is well, it's chaotic. It's busy. It's exhausting. But, it's our life and I wouldn't trade it for anything.
I often wonder if sweet hubby thinks differently when he's trying to play a game on the computer, read a book, or watch a football game and has kids coming to him for all sorts of reasons. Once in a while when I feel bad for him, I ask. Sometimes thinking I may hear that he's wishing for calm, peace, quiet. But he's never yet responded with anything like that. On the contrary, my wonderful, sweet hubby loves his life. I love my life. We both love and live for our family.
Don't get me wrong. We love calm. We love peace. We sometimes really love and desire quiet. But when I think or imagine my life without all the hustle and bustle. When I think of what it would be like without the "he took this away from me" or "she won't move out of my way", I shudder inside. Then, when you throw in the "Mama, I'm tired. Can you carry me?" or "Mama, you're the bestest Mama in the world. I love you soooooo much!", my heart just turns into mush. I don't ever want to stop hearing those little voices. Many times, the hustle and bustle isn't even us. It's them keeping busy. Our home is filled with laughter and giggles and much running up and down stairs, in between couches and in and out of rooms. It's filled with a hormonal teenager wanting to be left alone and minutes later, coming to curl up with me or tell me about a TV show or something that she's reading. So, while we're obviously a very average family, why is it then that I feel that we are extraordinarily blessed?
I'm guessing you are thinking why am I rambling and what does this all mean? It means that I would love another child. I would love to be blessed again by another sweetie looking up and calling me, "Mama!", even if it is followed by a whiny complaint that someone was unfair to them for some crazy reason, like not wanting to be their best friend.
I'm not making any grand announcement that we are adopting again, because sadly, we're not. What I am trying to say is that I don't think the feeling of wanting to be a Mama for the seventh time in my life, is one I know my heart will never stop yearning for. It's a feeling that I have been trying hard to learn to live with.
I am the last one to go to bed at night and I couldn't tell you, as I do my rounds of kisses while they are sleeping and give everyone one last tuck-in, how blessed I feel. Sometimes to the point of tears. Joyful, thankful tears. I have been given the most amazing and incredible job in the entire world. And I'm thinking that to ask God to allow me to do it again, even if it's only one more time, would just be plain selfish of me. But Lord, I'm thinkin' that you may not really be against that kind of selfishness. I'm leaving it all in your hands.