A Split Second

My little Ukrainian guy was a little younger than Four when his country became his legal guardian.

I saw a photo of Matt Damon the other day. He looked awful. (No offense, buddy) He looked over weight, sloppy, and his hair was grown out a bit. Hopefully he's assuming a character for a movie and hasn't let himself go like that. I hope he can go back to his "Bourne" look soon. haha

It was weird. He looked like a regular joe schmoe . He could've been anyone you see at the grocery store every day. Then, I had this moment, you know the kind where you have enough thoughts flood your mind that it seems an entire hour or more has passed by, yet it has only been a split second. In that split second, this is what happened in my mind:

I thought about how with a personal trainer, chef, hefty income, any one of us has the potential to achieve the "Bourne" look. Any one of us, given the resources, opportunities and education could have endless possibilities. Who's to say I'm any smarter or more successful than another who has had less an opportunity. Who knows how many Bill Gates or Oprah Winfrey's or Einstein's are in the world at any given time, only to remain unrealized due to their country of origin or their gender or birth order.

Which led me to her. The boys' biological mother.

Behind every orphan, every fostered child is a biological parent who for some reason, usually many reasons, is no longer the suitable caretaker of their own child. It is true that these biological parents have had their rights stripped from them due to choices they have made. They behaved in an irresponsible and sometimes dangerous manner. Losing guardianship of their child was a direct consequence of the life style they chose.

But then I thought of her. A woman whose history I only know a small part of. The part I know is ugly. It's enough reason for anyone to judge her, to be disgusted with her, to make assumptions about her, to even hate her. But in that moment, my heart broke for her and I loved her.

What had led her to this chapter of her life? I don't know for certain how things played out, but from the conversations we had with BoyOne and the information we know from court documents, I can almost guess. I think it started out alright but then, somewhere along the way, a path of pain and heartache was taken.

I choose to believe that most people are inherently good. We all come from the same amazing, loving Father, so how could that not be true? I think a lot about the life of an orphan. The sadness of the events that led them to that place. The loss they have experienced. The pain that they have suffered. The heartache they endure. The statistic they are and the likelihood of the statistic they will likely become.

When I look at Four, I can't imagine my life without her. I can't imagine doing something that would terminate my right to be her parent. I can't imagine what it would be like to not wake up to her "toddlerness." (yes, I just made up that word) I can't imagine what it must be like to wake up each morning without her and remember that I had done something to make that happen. I can't imagine the unbearable pain that I would feel. I can imagine what it might lead me to. I imagine that there must have been some terrible things going on to lead me to that point.

And that is where that split second brought me to. Imagining how hopeless and sad and impossible her life must have been for her to have not been able to stop all of this from happening. Imagining how she must feel every day-if she allows herself to think of her precious babies. Imagining that she had done everything she could and that she loved them so much and that life just didn't work out the way she had hoped it would. Because of where she was born, because of her gender, because of the lack of resources available to her, poor decisions were made. I'm not trying to make excuses for her, I know that what she did was not ok. I also know that she lives with that every. single. day. No matter how hard she may try to forget and how uncaring she may seem, she is still a mother. And as a mother, I feel her pain.