When First We Met

A poem about the first time I saw the Littles

Dreena Melea Tischler April 27, 2014

A Song for the Littles

When first we met, oh when first we met

My heart skipped a beat;

My shoes were suddenly nailed to the floor

And I found myself unable to speak.

Your delicate hands painted the air

You voice was a song on a breeze

But your face– oh, your face — your beautiful face

It left me weak in the knees.

You looked at me shyly then glanced away;

You were coy, flirtatious, a sprite.

When you hit me with that dazzling smile,

My world was then set aright.

—————-

This poem is a reflection of the very first time I saw our three youngest children, then 10 months, 21 months, and 35 months old. If you have not had the experience of adopting yet, let me assure you, you will never forget that first sighting.

We first met the Littles February 22, 2010. We went with our social worker to the CPS office in their town, about 50 miles away. It was just my husband and me: The older girls were with friends for the day. We stopped for coffee on the way– it was early– and I couldn’t drink it. I was so nervous, I thought I couldn’t keep it down. We went into the CPS waiting room, and within moments, the case worker was there escorting us to the play room. When we entered the room, we saw the older two first: they were on the far end of the room and playing with toys. Their foster mother and two CASA workers sat near them. The baby was actually right beside the door, in his foster mother’s arms; he wasn’t crawling yet.

It seemed like it took me 5 minutes to walk into that tiny room and speak to the kids. I was enchanted. They were so cute– I just couldn’t believe it, actually. I will never forget how they looked, how they smelled, their soft skin. The time just flew by. It was miraculous.

I have talked to lots of adoptive parents about their fears before they adopted and the big one always is, “What if I don’t love them?” I’m here to tell you that I think the phrase “love at first sight” may have been coined by an adoptive mother. You may not always enjoy them, you may sometimes wonder what you were thinking, but you will love them. Count on it.

Dreena Melea Tischler

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Dreena Melea Tischler

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