... for the upcoming week to bring us news of being assigned to a family coordinator and a social worker. We held out hope to hear from anyone during the Thanksgiving holiday with no luck. Though we both thought it unlikely-- there was always just a spark that someone would be in touch.
... to feel like things are starting to happen. It is amazing to me, that though we are in the very beginning stages and have so far to go, that I have an urgency to get this done so we can bring home a new Narunsky or two. I just know that a baby is waiting for my love, a cry is going unheard, and a need is going unattended. I so want to get my paperwork started-- I want to see progress, I want to have a task to complete that makes me feel I am making steps to getting my future babe(s) home.
... that someone out there is loving on my babe(s), while I wait to get my arms around them. I weep openly at the fact that our first child-- Josiah-- rarely cried. I can recall that he would cry when his bottle was empty and I made assumptions at the time that his tears were for fear that it would be his last meal. It still hurts my feelings to know that my son did not feel loved. His cries went unheard and unattended for the first ten months of his life and he had learned at such a tender young age that no one would respond. As a result, he did not and does not cry. Josiah still does not cry unless he is badly hurt or at a point of frustration that he feels he has no other choice. As I sit here-- I cannot recall the last time that he shed tears-- it has been that long. My daughters, on a humorous note have no issue with shedding tears. In fact, we have had several teary moments throughout the day. :) I believe in my heart of hearts that Josiah knows that we love him with a love that is so deep that nothing can ever change that. However, no matter how often I tell him or show him, I live in fear that part of him-- deeply rooted or on a subconscious level questions it.
... to get some rest tonight. --Jill