Upclose and personal

Today we were supposed to go on a tour of the Guangdong Museum and also visit (and shop at) the Pearl District. Andrew and Abi went, but I am at home today with our little boy who has a fever of 101.2. It was a little over 102 last night. With all the drooling going on in the last 24 hours, I think he is cutting some new teeth. He still has a bit of an appetite and is mostly happy, so I don't think it's sickness, but teething instead. We're keeping a close eye on him, and I'm going to go get some teething stuff later today. We also gave him 1/2 a teaspoon of Children's Tylenol, which seems to be helping a little.

So here we are, just the two of us, playing and giggling and gazing. He started looking sleepy, so I decided to give him an early bottle and nap.

I can't describe the place in my heart this little boy is taking, but I am going to try! When we first saw his photo in March, I knew he was our son but I didn't feel an immediate connection to him. This took me by surprise because when I first saw Abi's face, I fell ridiculously in love with her. Andrew had the same experience. Since I knew Luke was meant to be ours, I figured the "love you like crazy" would come later, probably once I was holding him. We received updated photos before we came to China, and again, while I loved him from the sense of -- he is God's creation and precious in His sight, and meant to be my son -- but I did not yet love him from the sense of, he is MY son and I am crazy about him.

Gotcha Day came. We could hardly wait for the time to get here, and it felt like the longest day in the history of the Robinson world. Finally, we were walking into the civil affairs office, and there he was. When I laid my eyes on him for the first time, my heart said, "My son." I knew something was happening in me. Then when I held him for the first time, those eyes of his began to work their way into my heart. I knew the bonding had begun, but I also knew it was going to take some time -- for him, and for me. With Abi, it was immediate. But we didn't have any kids yet, and there was something Abi filled and satisfied in us that was 10 years in the making. And by the time we had Luke, we had three full awesome years with Abi. She had us all to herself, and we had her all to ourselves. Just the three of us figuring out together what it meant to be family. So our bonding and attachment with her was, and is, deep. And for me, I don't let a lot of people in to the deepest part of me. I may not appear to be that way because I am friendly and loving (for the most part). :) But the truth is that I only want a few people deep in my heart. So Andrew and Abi are already there. How am I going to be able to make room for another?

What I have learned this week is that bonding and attachment takes time. I figured the fact that Luke was going from orphan to son in our family because of God's destiny, that that would be enough to complete the bonding and attachment for me. Not true. It takes an open heart. And not once, not twice, not 18 times, but over and over and over and over again -- day and night. It takes an open heart with every look into his eyes, with every temper tantrum, with every giggle, with every diaper change, with every feeding (and the food that gets thrown on the ground in his case), with every moment in the Boba, and every little step on the ground. With all of these and more, it takes my heart saying to him, "You have a place in me, little son. Every time, in every way, come in and stay. Come in and be welcome."

There is a song that says, "Will you hold me in your arms as I rest on your knee. Won't you tell me my favorite story. I was an orphan and you adopted me.... Wrap your strong arms around me, this is my peace. Father, stay close to me. Stay." This is the place of adoption. Adoption: bonded and attached to the one I call son; bonded and attached to the one he calls Mama. Adoption is not a signature on a piece of paper, it is not China and America saying that he is ours. It is me saying he is mine. So I choose with each moment of every day to say to him, "Luke, you are mine. You are kept forever by my heart."

Luke playing with Abi's hat.

You look at his eyes, and you think, How could I not bond to him immediately?! He is so cute, so luscious, so lovely! But matters of the heart don't happen that quickly. At least they don't for me. He has observed me and whether he knows it or not, makes intentional choices to trust me step by step. And I observe him, I care for him, I meet his most basic needs, and I choose to meet his greater needs by intentionally letting him in with each interaction, and even with each moment I think about him.

There are a few words I constantly hear over Luke. They are "nearness" and "closeness". When I was putting him down for his early nap today and holding him in my arms, he and I were gazing into one another's eyes as we do every time, a song came through the playlist Andrew made for Luke called, "Closer." Some of the words say, "Pull me a little closer, take me a little deeper, I wanna know your heart, I wanna know your heart / 'Cuz your love is so much sweeter than anything I've tasted, I wanna know your heart, I wanna know your heart." I then understood something: These are the words of Luke's heart. Luke has not experienced the deep love of a mama, even though he had a wonderful foster mama. But his foster mama could not say to him, "You are mine." It is my time, and it is Luke's desire to tell him that he can know this kind of love. That he can have this parental love—this love of complete acceptance and without condition—any time and all the time. And not just given to him by me, but living inside of it in me. Living inside my heart, and Andrew's. This was the moment of attachment for me. I let him in. I let him in where Abi and Andrew live. And I heard again the words, "Nearness. Closeness." I somehow understood a little more why God is so close to the orphans. It is because their need for fatherly and motherly love is so great. They do not have a father or mother to let them into that place of deep acceptance and irrevocable love. I knew this was why the presence of God is so, in fact, present with orphans. Because he broods over them, he hovers over them, he cares for them, he lets them in.

I laid my sleeping peaceful baby in his crib, and then wept. And wept. And wept some more. I knew this was a moment to savor, it was a moment to remain and remember. It was a moment where a bond was established that could never be broken.

Andrew put the song on Luke's playlist called "Home" by Michael Bublé. How perfect. Yes, yes Luke - you are home.

I love my little boy. My little boy.