Mother Again

Isaiah moved in with us officially again last night at 3:00 a.m. In many ways I am not ready for this. I did my time. I raised my boys. They were cute and tiny and had my blood in their veins. They were mine. Now I have a 182 pound boy of a different race. He is big and smelly and talks too much and moves too slow and has a mother somewhere else. But for some reason God wants me to be Isaiah's other mother. I know he needs me. He needs me to teach him so many things. Like how important education is. How to have manners. How to treat a home so that the furniture stays nice. How to be clean. How to act like you "got some sense". How to cut a pork chop with a knife and fork. But I need him too. To teach me that people are more important than furniture. That sometimes God likes you so much and thinks you did such a good job that He had another kid for you. That I am needed when so very many time I don't feel I am at all. That even though I have one son who won't speak to me that I am a good mother or I wouldn't get to raise another one.

I love Isaiah so much. It broke me into tiny pieces that still haven't ever gotten back in their original places when his mother took him from us. Having him back is bitter sweet. He is so messed up now. He is on 4 different psych drugs, he is grossly overweight, he is weaker than a new born baby, he has no clue about table manners. This is going to be so much work. It's going to wear me out, it's going to be hard on my marriage, it's going to cost me a fortune, it's going to take so much time that I don't want to spend. But I can't not do it because I love Isaiah so much.

I picture us talking, baking cookies, going to the library and having long conversations over books. He loves books, I love books, how cool is that! I have so much to teach him and so much to learn from him. This is going to be an adventure and I am ready for it.

The saddest part of this is that the reason we are getting him is that Cynthia, his mother, may be nearing the end. No one else will take him. She was going to put him in foster care if we didn't take him. We can't let that happen. Cynthia is very sick and in the hospital right now. To look at the fear and helplessness in my husbands eyes is more than I can bear. I can't imagine what it would be like to outlive one of my children. It's not supposed to be like that. Cynthia is only 33 years-old. Too young to die. To know there is nothing I can do to help my husband is awful. He is a good man. It tears me apart to see him hurt. I've never seen that look on his face before. I can't put it into words. He is scared and he knows he can't help his baby girl. It's a horrible thing.

So I'll be there for Isaiah and my husband and we'll do this the best way we can!