I donated a stroller the other day and then sat in my car and cried about it for a solid five minutes.
It was the best stroller I ever had. It was a double umbrella stroller that could recline for napping kids and fold up tight and was light enough to carry. It had carried two little boys numerous times through Disneyland, airports and had logged at least a hundred miles. It was convenient and helpful and carried a lot of hopes and dreams I hadn’t realized until I handed it over to the woman at the parenting center.
The boys grew out of it a few years ago but I held on to it because I knew we were planning to foster and adopt and I wasn’t sure if we would need it again.
We got our girls in March of 2019. We had started the process in 2018. We took the classes, read the books, got certified and waited. We said yes to a few different placements but were not chosen. It was disappointing and also good as I cherished these times with my two little boys knowing they were short lived, things would change soon.
When we got matched in Feb 2019 we were thrilled and scared. I started to grieve the life we were leaving and dreaming about what was coming, I had been around enough foster and adoptive families to know that you kind of never know what to expect.
Trauma and loss bring a whole host of hurts and changes and questions and tears. We were thrilled to have them and worked hard to connect and build trust. We tried hard to meet all the needs but going from two to four kids, 2-7 years old, that was impossible. But we did the best we could. It was hard, it felt overwhelming. Would the girls feel safe? Would the boys think we ruined their lives? Would we ever have a semblance of predictability again?
Yes. Yes to all of it. And also yes to things we never even thought to ask? Would our adopted daughter and bio son look more alike that any of the biological siblings and people would think they were twins? Yes. Would our special needs baby would grow so much and learn so many words doctors and therapists would be in shock? YES! Even though our oldest would question this addition would he love and protect his sisters? Yes!
Would we all grown and learn and change?
It’s been almost three years. We have more good days than bad and things are fairly predictable. Not to say they’re perfect, we still have melt downs and tantrums and hurt feelings, but even then I can usually see a trigger and anticipate where we are going.
We don’t need a double stroller anymore. They are 10, 7, 7, and 5 years old, they are too big for it. So it was time to give it away.
I cried tears I didn’t know I had. I had started driving away and realized I needed to park, this was not safe. I was not just saying bye to a stroller, I was saying bye to a part of me I was sad to see go. The mom of two boys with a fairly easy life. The woman who dreamed of adopting and didn’t know the hard that would come with it. I was saying bye to a life that looking back looked idyllic compared to the wild and crazy one I was living.
As I cried I felt the compassion of God. Like he was there with me, comforting me and letting this wave a grief hit and take it’s time, not rush me out. It made me think of when Jesus wept with those mourning the death of Lazarus. He knew he was going to bring Lazarus back to life, but first he wept with those who were weeping, acknowledging their pain and joining them in it.
I texted my mom and sister and sister-in-law, the one who had bought me the perfect stroller to begin with so they could mourn with me. We got those strollers because we each had two small kids. We both lived in Southern California when we had our first. We have been close since she joined our family. She is such a gift to me. When I moved we both cried so many tears, grieving the fact that we would not get to see each other so often. Since we now lived more than three hours apart when we could get together to cart those kids around it was a sweet reunion every time.
So as I sent the text about crying over a stroller I knew she would feel the depth of my sorrow. The next day she sent me such a comforting message. That in sharing my grief it gave her permission to acknowledge the things she misses too – the younger kids and the easier days.
And it made me realize how often we don’t really acknowledge our pain for a couple reasons. One, who has time to sit and cry when there are literally so many things that need to be done and kids with needs and the Target pick up I was off to next! And second, am I even allowed to acknowledge these hurts and losses when I literally signed up for this?
But let’s be real, no amount of books or people telling you really prepare you. I knew (theoretically) it was going to be hard, but I didn’t KNOW how hard until I experienced it. I knew with my head, but now I KNOW with my life and there is a difference.
And then I thought, how kind it was of God to let me feel my feelings and meet me there and not rush me out. As I dried my tears and finished the drive to Target I thought how thankful I was that I am a grown adult and could process these feelings with God and articulate it with those who love me and can comfort me. And it made me think of these precious kids in my care who are having their own triggers and reminders and waves of grief and maybe don’t know how to articulate it all.
Ah, poor babies! Poor Sissy and her big behavior, how many times is it more than just sharing or taking a turn, it’s a feeling of being overlooked or forgotten? Poor big brother who remembers what it was like to have years of mom falling asleep in his bed as I tucked him in and the last three years being mostly rushed or mom not there at all as mom and dad rotate nights between the girls’s and boys’ rooms. Maybe the bed time drama has more to do with feeling rushed or pushed aside?
Whatever it is, by taking the time to acknowledge and grieve myself, it let me also feel the comfort and compassion of God. He does not despise our weaknesses. He made us, knows us, and already accounted for it. He loves us and in giving me that compassion he refilled my heart with compassion to pour out to those who need it most, the very kids I always dreamed about, the precious sons and daughters, full of life and love.
He is a gracious God. He gives us good things so we can give them to others. Life is hard and beautiful, heart breaking and yet there is much healing to be had. It was just a stroller, but it was much more. It carried hopes and dreams, giggles and crumbs, grief and so much compassion.
January 16, 2022 at 2:22 am
This was such a lovely, read. Well said, Debs.
February 5, 2022 at 4:19 am
God gave you the gift of words and I’m so glad you share it with others. What a great post.