This past weekend, we received two bags full of our kids’ possessions from their lawyer. She was given the items by someone in the kids’ birth family after the kids were placed in state care. I opened the bags for the first time tonight and decided to wash the clothes and linens that I found. As I loaded the clothes into the washing machine, I found myself fighting back tears. The clothes are over a year old, which means they were bought for a much smaller Boy, a toddler Girl, and a newborn Baby…kids we never got to know.
I don’t often dwell on thoughts of our kids’ birth parents, because honestly I have a good deal of anger about how our precious ones were treated. That anger is best turned over to our righteous, just, compassionate, perfect God. Tonight was different, though. As I sorted the clothes into different loads, so many thoughts came to my mind. Someone bought these clothes. Someone helped these kids bathe and dress. Someone watched them play, learn, and grow in these clothes. People loved them, even if those people made some really awful choices.
And the baby stuff. Oh man, I’m a sucker for cute, tiny things. As I fingered the little bitty headbands and the newborn onesies, my thoughts drifted to the birth mom. Was she excited about Baby’s birth? Scared? Regretful? Hopeful? What had she been thinking as she picked out the pastel bows and the hooded ducky towels? What is she thinking now, separated from the children she brought into the world?
When our kids were wearing these clothes, I was finishing college, becoming a nurse, and longing to become a mother. Adoption was a real consideration, but not the active plan. I am so incredibly thankful that the Lord opened our hearts to CPS adoption. Because He did, we have our children. We missed out on a lot of their sweet lives, but they are still young, and Lord willing we have a lot of time ahead of us.