Today marks the third anniversary of the day that Rafael joined our family.
The foster care protocol was adjusted and bent and changed repeatedly to facilitate his arrival to our family. I shared about when we went to meet him at the hospital, accompanied only by his birth parents.
I didn’t write about the process of actually getting him, though. I shared pictures of his homecoming with all the kids holding him (go back and look again – weren’t they all so sweet?!?), but there were no pictures of me. All I referenced in the post was that it had been very draining. Very.
On the day we got Rafael we had another bending of protocol that added a huge emotional load to the experience for all of us. Instead of us picking him up from the hospital, he was checked out by his birth parents, who then took him to the offices of the foster care organization. It was in that office, accompanied by their social worker, our social worker, the head social worker, that both families finalized the agreement.
Finally the technicalities were completed. All that remained was to physically transfer the baby from them to us.
All that remained. As if that was a minor technicality.
No, it was all the reams of paperwork were the technicalities. The transfer of the baby was the most sensitive and heartwrenching experience.
His birth mother placed him in my arms, her eyes filled with tears. I don’t remember saying anything. What I do clearly remember is that they immediately left the office, and I turned toward the window overlooking the street, unable to speak for the tears in my eyes and the pain in my heart.
It was a moment of incredibly heightened emotion. We had so much anticipation of this little baby joining our family, but for me there was no happiness in that moment. In that moment, I saw only the heartbreak of another mother.
Through all the talking and paperwork, the baby slept.
We were told the baby needed to be awake for an extended period before he could be taken home. The ideas was to minimize trauma, so that he didn’t go to sleep on in one place and wake up in another, that there was some kind of preparatory transition for him.
This took quite some time. I don’t remember how long we were there, while the social workers observed us with him – more than two hours, but I don’t remember how much longer.
Once he was finally awake, my husband and I both held and interacted with him for a while.
We were at last allowed to give him a bottle, the final activity before taking him home. We couldn’t feed him sooner because it was likely he would have fallen right back asleep and he needed to be awake for an hour.
When we got home, all his siblings got a very brief chance to hold him. For the following week, he was hardly held by anyone but me. After having multiple caretakers for two months in the hospital, it was critical for him to bond with me and know me as his primary caretaker.
————–
Last week I had a meeting with staff at his school, and they commented that they never would have guessed that he wasn’t really my child.
He really is my child. While I didn’t give birth to him and he doesn’t (yet) legally share my last name, I couldn’t love him a drop more.
I am so deeply, deeply grateful for the opportunity to parent this adorable ball of sunshine. It just keeps getting better.
Avivah
Thank you for sharing about such an intimate and special time in your life.
You’ve been a blessing to Rafael and he surely has blessed your lives.
May Hashem continue to give you koiach.
Thank you, Surie (and welcome!).
Thank you Avivah for sharing Raphael’s journey with us. We all see clearly how he has grown into a calm,happy child. May you continue to inspire , and teach us what love is all about.
Thank your for continuing to share our journey here, Rachelli!
Haven’t read an entry in a while ..you always inspire and give chizuk. You are such a beautiful strong neshama ! May you and your beautiful family keep going from strength to strength!!
Literally every single day think of a post I want to write, but the stars have to line up with available time, quiet, a working computer and internet…. 🙂 Lately those things haven’t been lining up!
Avivah, this is very moving to read. May HaShem continue to give you and your husband strength to raise all your children.
It’s always nice to ‘see’ you here, Susan! Thank you.
Aviva, I have been reading your blog for the past few years, and It is so heartwarming how much love you have to give. We all have what to learn from you! Rafael is so adorable. May he continue give your family much bracha and nachas!
If I may ask – how is it that a mother can be so sad to give up her child yet does so anyway?
That really broke my heart to read 🙁
Hi, Shani, thanks for introducing yourself!
You’re asking a really good question.
In Israel, almost every newborn who is available to foster has Down syndrome. Almost every one of those babies come from charedi families whose rabbi told them to give the child up. Some of them belong to chassidishe groups whose rebbe has a blanket policy of giving up every child with T21. Others are only given this psak when asking if they should keep the child. Someone from one chassidus told me, in her chassidus, they can keep the child but if they ask if they should keep him, it is assumed they are asking because it will be too much and the answer is always no. In this case, as soon as Rafael was born and they found out he had T21, they knew the policy of their rebbe was that they would not be able to keep him.
You could make the mistake of thinking anyone who gives up a child because he has Down syndrome is a terrible person, but that has not been my experience. These are parents in pain who are having to make terribly difficult choices. If they had kept Rafael, they would have been amazing parents for him (they are wonderful people), but that was not perceived as an option for them.
No matter who they are or why they are making this choice, it is a deep trauma for a mother to give up her child. Many, many of these mothers have ambivalence about their decision. Even if they intellectually believe they are doing the right thing, the distance from the head to the heart can be enormous. I think that whether a mother is crying on the outside or not, there is a deep mourning that is there for the rest of her life, whether she recognizes it and gives it expression or not.
Aviva, thank you for explaining. Your answer sheds more light on my question. I am chareidi (and in Israel) myself but did not know that about certain charedi sectors.
I wonder why it is preferable according to those Rabbis to give the child to someone else, especially since, as far as I know, it is agreeable amongst all that these children are neshamos of big tzaddikim. Isn’t it possible that the child will be adopted by a nonfrum family?
And why send the child to be fostered vs. adopted?
(you do not have to answer these questions of course. It is really just my curiousity. I do not judge the parents, and I am at awe by all those like youself who find more love and space in their hearts and home to raise another neshama).