This post is based on my earlier post titled "The Bassinet" which I wrote prior to our adoption of Baby J. I have since updated it and am entering it into Scribbit's Write-Away contest this month. So, as Paul Harvey would say, here is...the REST of the story...
The Bassinet Bids Us Farewell
The room was cozy and was decorated with a couple couches and wing chairs--all anchored by a simple oriental-style rug. A ficus tree or two dotted the room making the feeling of this space surprisingly homey. Then I spotted it. Tucked over in the corner next to the window was a white bassinet complete with a snow white skirt—looking regal—as if dressing for its first cotillion.
I guess the purpose of the bassinet was lost on me at first. I just assumed…"OK, so we're at an adoption agency…maybe there are times when clients need the use of a bassinet." It wasn't until the midst of our discussion when our case worker pointed out that we were sitting in the room where placement occurs that it dawned on me. THAT was the very bassinet where we would meet our child for the first time. The weight of the revelation was breathtaking.
Wow. Suddenly, the bassinet took on an entirely different persona for me. It wasn't just a white contraption that families kept their child in during a meeting. No, this particular bassinet was more angel than furniture. It was a comforter of children about to discover the joy of a new family. It was a place of transfer…the transferring of hopes and dreams from one human to another. But, most important, it was a temporary place for my soon-to-be child to feel safe until I take him or her into my heart and home forever.
As we exited the room, I glanced over my shoulder at the white bassinet in the corner. "Goodbye, for now..." I whispered… and then reluctantly turned to walk away.
Nearly a year later, we got THE CALL. A baby boy was soon to make his journey into our family and our home. Plans were made, last-minute rushing about was done and a few short weeks later it was time. It was time to go and bring our son home.
After the paperwork was signed, my husband, six-year old son and I were standing outside a small room knowing full well what was inside...a white bassinet. My heart skipped several beats as the caseworker slowly turned the knob and the door opened into what we like to refer to as our “delivery room.”
There, inside that sunny little room, was the fragile wicker bed that held within its grasp a piece of our heart. As we took a step toward the bassinet, a small arm clad in a hand-knit blue sweater slowly reached upwards in the air as if to say, “here I am. I’m ready to go.”
And go we did.
After an emotional time spent bonding with the newest member of our family, it was finally time to go home. Home to a nursery painted with a bright red bird, a cheerful zebra and a little brown puppy. Home to freshly washed baby bottles and never-been-used pacifiers in a rainbow of colors. And, home to a driveway-full of grandparents ready to swarm the car the moment it appeared in the distance.
The little white bassinet certainly fulfilled its role that day. It lovingly embraced our child until we could finally drive away—faces full of both smiles and tears—a family of four at last.