In the absence of Ana

I have always wanted to foster or adopt and have always wanted 4 children.  I really envy mothers who have 4 plus kids.  This was not Gary's wish and marriage is a partnership so I was forced to let that 4th child go.  Being the person I am, I had run with this idea and imagined her entire life.  She was already born, she was a little black girl who was 2 years old at the time and I would be her mom. I was adamant about her gender, I was afraid of a teenage black boy.  Of what a male black child could become.   Yes I know it's totally f*cked up!

My daughter's name was Ana and 7 years ago I had to let the dream of her go.  She would be 9 now and in grade 3 or 4.  I was sad and cross and letting go of a child you never had in the first place is a very difficult process.  When you go through the process of adoption you have to get your heart and mind and soul ready.  My kids were all on board, my mom came with me to the adoption agency and was ready for another little grandchild. I had been praying for her and writing her letters as I did not want her to feel left out that her siblings had a preggie book before they were born and she did not have one.   She even had a bedroom that would be all hers

Gary would have allowed me this daughter but to force a man to adopt a child, a cross cultural adoption, it's just not right.  He just didn't want another child.  So I went against this enormous want, a want that felt so 'God' and I let her go and closed that book and moved on.  Time passed and I was super happy with my 3 kids and decided to study and threw myself into that.  Somewhere in the journey of my studies I got over my fear of black men.  I know its shameful, that fear.  That prejudice.  But it was there and now it is totally gone and my discernment and gut is still honed for danger but from anywhere and anybody who makes the hairs on my arms prickle.  I have always wondered why God placed such a strong, strong urge to adopt a child and then not grant the same desire to my husband?

Today I had to tell the boys at Bright Lights I would be leaving the end of the month.  My internship is up.  I get to work and the day kids and some girls are there too.  I have been involved there for two years, building trust, building relationship and waiting for the damaged ones to come to me, to open up.  I never force a hug or get into someone's space.  Some pulled me in from day one.  Others kept their distance.   I get out the car today and I am Bieber at a tween party.  Big smiles and big hugs from the hardiest of kids.  The little ones clamber up my long legs and squirm until they in my arms. The big ones give me a hug while maintaining their coolness at the same time.

I sat in the sun with them in their play park and we chatted about me going but doing monthly fun outings.  Putt putt and swimming and the beach and horse riding and sports.  This Saturday we are VIPs at a boxing match.  I hate boxing but for them, I will go.  When I drove home one had snuck in my car giving me a frikking heart attack.  I turfed him out the car and felt so very lucky that I had these 2 years with these boys.   Black and coloured naughty teenage boys.  The very kids who I feared who God then placed in my path and gave me His huge unconditional love for.  

I never got to adopt my Ana.  I never had the 4 kids I so badly wanted.  But I have so much more.  I have a whole home of boys who make me laugh and challenge me and stretch me and break my heart.  I am their Tannie Mel and they are my boytjies.  I am so very, very lucky.