Perspective

This will be a short post, but I've really been thinking the past week about February 2010, the month I placed little David into Dave and Amy's arms.  February 2010 also marks the 2 year anniversary since my beloved step-dad, Lynn Kraaima, became sick and slipped into a coma. It was only 11 days before I was due with little David, and I can still remember being in the ICU at McKay-Dee Hospital with him. I asked my mom if I could have a few minutes alone with him.

Lynn was unconscious by this point, and we wouldn't ever see him awake again. I started crying when my mom left the room and begged Lynn to wake up. I kept telling him that I couldn't do it [placement] alone, that I needed him, and I didn't know how I'd survive if he wasn't there to help carry me through. I held his hand and waited for a sign... any sign... that he would be there for me.

Lynn never woke up. Little David was born, and placement went flawlessly.

Knowing now that Lynn was never meant to wake up, and looking back and how perfect placement was, I truly believe he WAS with me.  Just before placing little David into Amy's arms, I took him into another room to feed him one last time. While in there, he got wide eyes and just stared past me into the corner of the room. That sweet little boy was so at peace in that moment, and I couldn't help but wonder who he was looking at. There was nobody else there.

Whether or not little David saw Lynn, I know that I did have his help at placement. More than anything, I had my Heavenly Father's help.

When Lynn passed away three months later, I gained a whole new perspective on placement and adoption.  I quickly went from "woe is me", in regards to placing and missing little David, to "I'm so grateful he is alive!".  Immediately after placement, I thought nothing could be worse than not holding "my baby". The empty arms feeling was devastating.  After Lynn passed away, I realized it could be much, much worse. Little David could be gone forever.  He could have died at birth, or been stillborn, or any number of things. But here I was, getting pictures and emails about a perfect, beautiful little boy who was happy and so full of life!  I may not be there to hold him, but I know that I will see him again in this earth life.  I know Lynn is in a happier place as well, but it will be some time (I hope?!) before I will see him again.

I still tell people I wouldn't wish the pain of placing a child for adoption on my worst enemy.  I also can say that losing a parent, for me, has been more painful.  I still have time to tell little David I love him (I do quite often in letters), but I so wish I had had more time to thank Lynn for everything he did for me, and tell him how much I love him.

I miss you, Lynn. I love you.