Thoughts For Now, Thoughts For Later

For the past couple of days I've been sitting on a post, one which I was reluctant to publish due to its deeply personal nature.  There are parts of that post that I'm not sure I'm quite willing to divulge yet, for one reason or another.  I went back and forth with myself for days, leaving the blog interface up, deciding whether to hit 'publish' or whether to save it for later.  I knew I would eventually put it out there - it wasn't a question of yes or no, just a question of when.  But I have decided, for now, to keep those thoughts to myself and take things in a different direction.  Do not be concerned - you are not missing out on anything of great importance - the goal of the post was just to give some background information about where I was in my life prior to my discovery of Reece's Rainbow; but it is a very heavy post, and for now, there are so many other things I want to say.

My heart aches today.  At times it jumps for joy, for the grins and giggles of the many angels who are already home with their forever families, but today, it truly aches for the ones who are still waiting.

This little boy, though even at ten years old, he knows no words, spoke to me loud and clear today.  I need somebody to love me.


Read what Reece's Rainbow has to say about sweet 'Brett':  Boy, Born August 23, 2001

Diagnosis: Down Syndrome, Severe lagging behind in his development, Alopetio areata.  The photo was taken on May 2009.   This child had a rough start in his life.   Immediately after giving birth to him in the open country she abandoned him on the field.  He was found and taken to the hospital.   His condition was poor but the doctors saved his life.

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$97.70 is available towards the cost of my adoption!

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Oh, Brett.  I never thought a little boy would speak to me the way you have.  I've raised girls.  My boy, my dear borrowed boy, only stayed with me through about 20 short months.  Little girls have always had a hold on my heart... but you, sweet little Brett, abandoned by your mother, left to die... and then rescued only to languish in a horrid institution with no family to love you... Brett, ten years old but so very tiny, growing ever nearer to that un-adoptable age of 16, but still very much a child... how my heart aches that I can't just jump on a plane and come get you and bring you home to a family who would love you for the special person that you are.  


People, if you are out there reading, won't you consider bringing Brett home?  I know he's somebody's son.  God did not put him on this earth and deliver him from certain death only for him to die alone in a stark, cold institution.  His Mommy is out there somewhere, I just know it.  His region is relatively popular for adoptions because they place fewer restrictions on adoptive families with regards to age, family size and travel.  It is also a region in desperate need, for these children are wasting away.


I've been up all night, ideas bouncing around my head for what to blog about next.  I have so much to say, but how and when to say it continue to befuddle me.  I thought I had a plan for a post today, and then a little face caught my eye... and all the sudden that plan wasn't so important anymore.  That post, like the one before it, will wait for another day.  


Today, I just ask you, to look into the eyes of this little boy.  Hear the words he cannot speak.  Feel the love he has to give to a Mama he does not yet know.  Hold him in your hearts, keep him in your prayers, share his story with your friends... in hopes that Brett might soon find his Forever Family, before it's too late.  


This day, incidentally, is the anniversary of the day my uncle Tony was lost to Down Syndrome, at ten years old, the same age as Brett.  Ask my mom, my uncles and my aunt.  Ask them what a blessing he was on their lives.  These children, too, will be a blessing on the lives of the families who take them in.  They just need to be given a chance.  I love you, Uncle Tony.  I know you're up in heaven playing with your suitcase and your trucks and your M&Ms... watching over these precious souls... waiting for the day they can go home, just like I am.  


These are my thoughts for today.  Two little boys with Down Syndrome, separated by time, space, heaven and earth... but special, to someone.  Somebody's son.  Somebody's brother.  Somebody's friend