June 11, 2004. We bring home J-Man, a little 6-month-old bundle of joy. We've taken all the classes, read the books...you name it. But nothing could truly prepare me for the roller coaster of emotions I felt during the following months. No one ever told me that it may take awhile to bond with this little one. I mean, it seems obvious now, but I must be dense or something. I was expecting to hold this little guy and immediately fall in love with him. But instead, I looked at him and as the months wore on, I thought of him more as a "nephew" than a "son."
My soul was in anguish. I felt like there must be something wrong with me. I would look at Mr. C: our dear biological son, and be filled with pride. My heart would skip a beat when I saw him accomplishing new things, learning about the world around him. But with J-Man, he was like a child I was babysitting. I wanted to protect him, take care of him, provide for his needs. But I didn't yearn for him when he was in my absence. I didn't look at him and think, "That's my son. He's perfect."
I prayed nightly that the Lord would change my heart. I felt my worst nightmare was coming true--I had brought this little boy into our lives, but I didn't love him like he needed. I desperately sought comfort and guidance from the Lord. I confessed to Superman (my husband) that I was struggling. He comforted me, told me to give it time, that it would be a process, not something to happen overnight, but I had to work at it.
Almost seven months went by. One morning, J-Man took his first step. Suddenly, my heart went pitter patter and I thought, "That's my son! He's perfect!" And I realized, surprisingly, that the Lord had answered my prayers. Yes, my friends. I doubted. Sure, I prayed those prayers, but I didn't really believe that they would be answered in the way I expected! Quietly, nonchalantly, He had taken my heart, and reformed it. I loved this child! I looked at him and filled with pride. I was joyful in his triumphs and saddened by his struggles. How this happened is a mystery to me. I only know that HE did it. I've never looked at Prayer the same.
My soul was in anguish. I felt like there must be something wrong with me. I would look at Mr. C: our dear biological son, and be filled with pride. My heart would skip a beat when I saw him accomplishing new things, learning about the world around him. But with J-Man, he was like a child I was babysitting. I wanted to protect him, take care of him, provide for his needs. But I didn't yearn for him when he was in my absence. I didn't look at him and think, "That's my son. He's perfect."
I prayed nightly that the Lord would change my heart. I felt my worst nightmare was coming true--I had brought this little boy into our lives, but I didn't love him like he needed. I desperately sought comfort and guidance from the Lord. I confessed to Superman (my husband) that I was struggling. He comforted me, told me to give it time, that it would be a process, not something to happen overnight, but I had to work at it.
Almost seven months went by. One morning, J-Man took his first step. Suddenly, my heart went pitter patter and I thought, "That's my son! He's perfect!" And I realized, surprisingly, that the Lord had answered my prayers. Yes, my friends. I doubted. Sure, I prayed those prayers, but I didn't really believe that they would be answered in the way I expected! Quietly, nonchalantly, He had taken my heart, and reformed it. I loved this child! I looked at him and filled with pride. I was joyful in his triumphs and saddened by his struggles. How this happened is a mystery to me. I only know that HE did it. I've never looked at Prayer the same.
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