Raise me up.

I can't count the number of people who asked me how long I thought it might take for me to bond or "fall in love" with Rubin before he came home.

I can only imagine how many others have thought about it, wondered within their own practical minds and unknowing hearts how long I might have to wait. How long it might take for them to love, on their own, this new baby in our lives, too. Their new grandson, nephew, cousin, neighbor, brother, friend...  

Oh, so little did we know.

No one asked me that when I was pregnant with Theo or Emmett. No one wondered, out loud or in private, how long it might take me to love my newborn babies.  No one ever even questioned whether or not I liked them. And, to be honest, at first I didn't. This really won't come as a big surprise to those of you reading this who know me in person.  Pregnancy and childbirth- I was pretty good at it! (Despite the ginormous weight gain and PUPPPS.) 

But newborn babies? 

Ugh! 

Spare me!

(Disclaimer: I am in love. Times three. But this doesn't mean that I always have to like.  To be honest, I didn't really like any of them today!!)

These three children each came to me in their own way. 

No doubt about it, nothing can or ever will compare with what it felt like, how I felt, what Dave experienced at the births of two of our children.  Theo and Emmett came into our world in two completely different ways. Their birth days, like night and day. Theo, slow and deliberate. Emmett, fast and furious (forecasting what was to come...)

No doubt about it, nothing can or ever will compare with what it felt like, what we experienced as a family as we waited for Rubin.  While he didn't grow in my tummy, he came to in my heart in a way that no one ever has before.  I, oh so clearly, was not in control of our waiting for Rubin the way that I fancied myself to be when I was pregnant.  It was so good for me, to have to put him completely in God's hands.

I remembered something so important this morning that I will never forget about the day that I first met my son in Korea.  It came to me just when I needed a reminder.  I meant to blog about it while I was there, but there was so. Much. 

My moms and I were driven to Rubin's foster family's home in an SWS van, by a gentleman driver and our caseworker.  I sat in the back seat and jotted down everything that I saw on our way... flowers, runners, street signs.  As I waited to arrive, to get to my son (another difference... the others came to me...), Josh Groban's You Raise Me Up came out of the stereo, sandwiched between two techno-y Korean pop songs.   

This song always strikes me, it's words an instant reminder to me of my sister's wedding, of the commitment of marriage, the importance of family and God. And here it was, so out of place and unexpected. I was thankful for it, and held onto it tightly, familiar words in an unfamiliar country. Certainty amongst my nervousness/anxiousness/apprehension/excitement.

And here it was again, this morning, as I was driving home after a couple of hours of respite, a long run with a dear friend, away from what has become the craziness of our household. Three little boys now, under the age of four. We are exhausted. We are getting to know one another. Emmett is really ticked about not being the baby anymore. Theo still is a baby, and Dave and I are expecting him to be too big and too perfect. Our house is a mess. I feel like our life is, too...

As all of these thoughts are pounding around inside of my head, making my head ache the way they did each time I brought my newborn boys home from the hospital, Josh Groban slipped in quietly on the radio.  When I am down, and oh my soul, so weary... 

And a shiny new minivan cut me off in traffic, as I was trying to navigate my way home in mine, through my tears. It's license plates reading, "Trust God."