Of all the emotions I experienced on our big gotcha day, anger was the one for which I was least prepared.
The gratitude, the joy, the sorrow, the relief...all took turns invading my heart at different moments throughout the day.
Anger, however, came under the cloak of darkness as my little boy grieved the loss of all he's known. It crept in as the quiet tears ran down his face. It overpowered me as he struggled to understand what was happening to him.
I was angry with his birth parents, that they would work for ten years to acheive a pregnancy only to abandon him once he'd arrived. I was angry with a society that would expect them to do just that and walk away from such an imperfect child, angry at a government that would make it so easy, and angry at the medical establishment that would feed the fears of grieving parents and make them feel irresponsible if they considered anything else.
I was so angry that this boy, my son, had to wait three years to find a family that wantshim, not for anything that he may give but just because he deserves to be loved.
It became a fire inside of me and I was unprepared for the vehement manner in which it arose. No one ever mentioned this in all the stories that I've read. Or was I just not paying attention?
There have been people telling me that he was meant to be mine, that he was always supposed to be a part of this family. It is a wonderful sentiment and I agree...
But only to a point.
Of all the orphans, in all the world, this one is supposed to be ours. God placed this child in our hearts, long before we ever knew his name. He opened our eyes and led us directly to him. I have no doubt.
However, you will never convince me that he was supposed to be an orphan...that it was God's design that he be rejected, abandoned, unloved. As thrilled and honored and humbled as we are to be plan B, we are not plan A.
And it hurts my heart - and yes, angers me a little, still - that he needed a plan B.
Because this child is perfect.
He is engaging, mischevious, clever, affectionate, funny and we have barely begun to scratch the surface of who he is. We have already fallen in love and we can't wait to watch this love deepen and grow as we get to know our little guy.
God is writing his story with a new ending, because God is like that. He delights in bringing redemption. But I had to remember why redemption was needed. I needed to grieve for and with my boy. As he begins to adjust to his new normal, already, the anger is fading. It is being replaced by grace and compassion for those to which it was directed, and utter humility and gratitude that God chose us to be His pen.
I don't know why I write this. All I know is that there are thousands upon thousands of children whose plan A has gone tragically awry and all of them deserve a plan B.