{"id":273,"date":"2020-03-01T12:50:27","date_gmt":"2020-03-01T12:50:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/morganburkewrites.inversionwebstudios.com\/?p=273"},"modified":"2020-08-06T23:49:18","modified_gmt":"2020-08-06T23:49:18","slug":"our-first-night-with-jayden","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/2020\/03\/01\/our-first-night-with-jayden\/","title":{"rendered":"Our First Night With Jayden"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

My husband, our two year old and I were the definition of\nrestless as we sat in our hotel room in Jackson, Mississippi. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was a big day for our little family. Our lives, both\ncollective and individual, were about to be changed forever. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As we sat in that small room, waiting to drive to our\nadoption agency\u2019s office, we were only a week removed from my father\u2019s funeral\nthat took place in our home of Huntsville, Alabama. Our family had been pushed\nand pulled in every direction up until that point. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We looked at each other with expectancy for what the next\nfew hours would hold. I can remember it perfecty: the couch, the TV, our\nsuitcases sitting on the floor, one of which was filled with baby boy clothes\nand supplies. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I scrutinized what to wear. I had only packed a few options,\nand my \u201cfavorite\u201d outfit was worn the night before when we got to unexpectedly\nhold our baby boy at his foster family\u2019s home. The grief and trauma that had\naccompanied the weeks prior had set my perspectives slightly away from shopping\nfor a special outfit to wear for our placement meeting. I wasn\u2019t overly\nconcerned that I hadn\u2019t packed well. There was too much on my mind. But I\nwanted to look presentable and for my clothing to somehow represent the immense\nimportance of the day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The weather was still hot, even for Alabama standards, and\nwe were still in the month of August, after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So my short-sleeved cheetah-print shirt and jeans it was. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Somehow, it was perfect. I felt that it represented how I\nhoped to approach the day: easygoing, carefree. In some ways it was the perfect\nparadox to the way I actually felt: nervous, anxious, determined. As excited as\nI was, I was more than ready for our family to at last be together and for our unification\nto be complete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our plan was to drive from the agency\u2019s office to\nStarkville, Mississippi where a good friend had coordinated housing for us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We had thought through every step of that day, and our small\nSUV was completely packed to the brim.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we finally arrived at the office, all my mind could focus\non was where Jayden was. His foster mom, Carol, was on her way. We went to\nanother room to sign some papers, and when we walked out, there he was. In a\nblue smock, in his foster mom Carol\u2019s arms. As hard as it had to be for her to\nhand him to me, just as his birth mother had done with her weeks before, I\nstood there, with my arms open and waiting.
\nIt was a posture we had learned to envision over the previous two years. With\nmy dad\u2019s sickness, my own health unknowns, and now our second baby. Open hands,\nexpectant hearts, with a full understanding that things could look all together\ndifferently than we planned or hoped for. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He looked up at me, from my own arms, and tears filled my\neyes. He was in our family at last. And yet, this tiny beautiful boy carried so\nmuch with him. Lives that were forever changed just because he existed. His\nbirth parents, his foster mom, and their respective families. Because he was\nnow in our arms, all of those lives were ultimately connected to ours. In a\nway, I was holding all of them wrapped into this child who we now called our\nson. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once emotions had somewhat subsided, and we were able to tie\nup all of the final to-dos at the office, we were on the road to Starkville. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

There, in our little SUV, our family felt so right. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

For the first time in a long time, we looked at each other\nand felt total peace about where we were and what was going on around us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I felt so at home in those moments, in that\nfilled-to-the-brim car. We were together at last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jayden slept peacefully, after a few fussy minutes, and as\nyou can imagine, I was climbing over suitcases to try and make sure both boys\nwere settled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We made the two hour drive to Starkville without much\ndifficulty. The boys napped, and we talked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As we drove up to the home that was arranged for us, in a\nquaint neighborhood off of the campus of Mississippi State University, we were\nmore than ready to unload the car and get set up for what we knew could be two\nto three weeks of waiting for out of state paperwork to go through.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had spoken with the owner of the home earlier that\nmorning. An incredibly kind man, he told us all about his house and how he was\nhappy to have us stay there as long as we needed. He also mentioned that he had\nbeen doing some work in his basement. Something had leaked oil, or gasoline,\nwhich had caused an odor, but he had various people come check it out to make\nsure it was safe. It had been better when he left it to go on a trip out of\ntown. Apparently in the few days he was gone, the smell had gotten worse to the\npoint that it almost knocked you down when you walked in the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Unbeknownst to him, that lovely home was completely\nuninhabitable for us and our brand new baby. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It took all of thirty seconds for Tucker and I to look at\neach other, and then turn around and walk back out the front door. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Back to the car we went. We drove around as we talked about\na Plan B. There were very few AirBnB\u2019s still available during the weeks we\nwould be there, and we wouldn\u2019t be able to check into one until the following\nday. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next thing we know, we are in a Kroger parking lot while\nTucker runs inside to get some groceries and snacks for the boys. I begin to\nmildly panic. How are we going to spend the next several hours? What if a hotel\ndoesn\u2019t have a room? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A few wimpers from the back seat let me know that we needed\nto get out of the car as soon as possible. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thankfully, a Hampton Inn was nearby, so we took refuge in\nthe lobby for about an hour. I fed Jayden his bottle at the little breakfast\ntable by the front desk, and somehow, I began to realize that even though this\nwas a situation that was outside of what we would have planned, we were finally\ntogether, and that was what mattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Meanwhile, we came to find out that our sister in law was\ncalling her friend whose grandparents lived in a town nearby. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Next thing we knew, we were driving down some back roads to Mayhew,\nMississippi to find Billy and Bess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Billy and Bess lived on some land that contained some\nstudent housing that they managed, an old storage barn, their charming brick\nhome and a historic guest house that they lovingly referred to as the \u201choney\nhouse.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This honey house was well known amongst locals, as it used\nto be the hub of a large honey making business. It was actually set up with equipment\nto be used for honey processing back in its day an entire century before. Eventually,\nBilly and Bess converted it into both a local relic and guest home. It housed memorabilia\nfrom several time periods, down to a working glass phone booth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We pulled down the drive and up to the honey house. The\nfront porch, complete with rocking chairs and a porch swing, opened up to a\nliving room, kitchen, and then a couple of guest rooms and bathrooms. Every\nsingle time I looked around in this guest home, I found something new and\ninteresting to explore. An old news article about their town, an award the\nhoney business had earned, a painting or an old photograph, and oh, there were\nbees. Bee pillows, bee paintings, bee figurines, bee salt shakers. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I felt so at home, as this beautiful, historic place was so\nobviously set up to both provide hospitality and act as a place of rememberance.\nFor someone who rarely likes to throw anything of sentimental value away, I\nappreciated the walls filled with momentos to special moments in their lives,\nand indicators of what they love or enjoy. Just walking around that house, I felt\nas though I was right where I needed to be. Down home, quiet, surrounded by\ntrees and open fields, with countless places to look around and absorb Bess and\nBilly\u2019s history.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Turns out, having a newborn and a two-year old around doesn\u2019t\nafford much for that sort of thing. Regardless, we were happy to have a place\nto sit, feed our babies, and rest our heads for the night. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before we knew it, Bess and Billy had walked out to greet\nus, and they were exactly the kind of people you might imagine. Pure as gold,\nkind hearted. We weren\u2019t five minutes into our conversation before they offered\nfor us to stay multiple nights, a week if we needed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bess just happened to have a roast cooking in the crock pot,\nwith all<\/em> the sides and her special dessert. She said she had just planned\nto do it that day, and didn\u2019t have enough people to eat it all. God\u2019s\nprovision, as she told us. We were grateful. We hadn\u2019t even thought about what\nwe would eat for dinner, but little did we know we would be given a true feast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When one of the most important days of our lives held\nunexpected twists and turns, we were given Bess and Billy with their honey\nhouse, pot roast, and famous sponge cake. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Still numb with the emotions of all that had occurred over\nthe previous month, I wasn\u2019t too covered up with cobwebs to see the way that\nGod\u2019s hand was in this. We were given physical hugs from sweet grandparents in\nMayhew, Mississippi when our family was a state over and my dad was gapingly\nabsent from this earth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dinner was exquisite, and we enjoyed conversation with them\nat their table while Jayden slept on the couch behind us. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The night went as well as it could have, as Caleb slept\nsoundly in the room next to us and Jayden was snug in his bassinet beside our\nbed. At 5 am the next morning, I sat on the couch feeding Jayden as tears\nflooded my eyes. The miracle I held in my arms overwhelmed me. The kindness of strangers\noverwhelmed me. And the finality of all that had occurred in those few weeks\noverwhelmed me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

What struck me more than anything in that moment was how\ntaken care of we were on our first night with our baby boy. It was increasingly\nclear to me how much God loved this child, and how much he was proving that he\nnot only had Jayden securely in his hands, but all of us and our circumstances\nas well. In the midst of our great loss and in the midst of many unknowns, he\nlayed out provision after provision in a small town in Mississippi. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Saying yes to something like adopting a baby boy may be\nscary, and there is great risk involved. But what I want people to know is that\nby saying yes, you are opening your life up to an adventure alongside of the\nGod of the universe, who loves His children more than we can fathom. Through every\ntwist and turn, He invites us to open our eyes to His ways, which are unique\nand brimming with beauty, better than anything we can plan or come up with on\nour own. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My husband, our two year old and I were the definition of restless as we sat in our hotel room in Jackson, Mississippi. This was a big day for our little family. Our lives, both collective and individual, were about […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":279,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[13,6,14,10],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/273"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=273"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/273\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":282,"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/273\/revisions\/282"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/279"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=273"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=273"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/morganburkewrites.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=273"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}