A Unique Adoption Love Song
This month's song is written in the voice of newly adoptive mother Deb to her newborn son Teddy. It's a love song of grand proportions, because the story of Deb and Teddy is far from your typical adoption story (if there even is such a thing!) And it is one that I have gotten to see from an up-close vantage point for the past several years, as this story has meandered, halted and faltered at bit in places, and is now experiencing it own kind of "full bloom."
A few years ago, and for many years before that, Deb was a beloved life coaching client of mine. We did great work together, helping her art gallery to become the flourishing success it is today. But the real work of her heart began in earnest when we came to know together that what she wanted most in the world was to be a mom.
Single, but brave and increasingly clear and ready, Deb began, inch by inch, to enter into the process of adoption as a single mom. You make a picture book, you pour your authentic self into the creation of its pages, and you trust that some young pregnant mother will feel called to choose your book, your story, your heart, over all the other eager adoptive-parents-to-be. You navigate numerous in-home visits. You explain to surprised friends and family about the journey you are hoping to embark on. And then you wait. And wait. And wait. All the while, you do your very best to hold an open place in your heart for this unknown visitor who you simply have to trust is moving toward you somehow, even as you doubt and wonder.
In Deb's case, while she waited, and waited, and waited, far away in her home in Portsmouth, I found myself sitting around on one particular day, thinking of her and her wait. Our "coach and client" work was done (everything but the waiting, that is!) But when I have opened my heart to someone, it stays open, even after the work has shifted or completed. So there I sat, thinking of her, feeling for her, holding a space. And this little "sound of waiting" just started coming forward through my guitar. It was not a commissioned song. No one was officially requesting it. I did not record it in a studio with a budget. No bells and whistles at all. It was just this little, simple arrival from someplace far away, which I recorded on my computer as I sat there. Something about it captures, for me, that experience of feeling so far away from what you want, yet locating the awareness that somewhere, somewhere inside of you, some part of you is holding out a space for something truer. More of what you imagine you most want and maybe, maybe, could have.
Single, but brave and increasingly clear and ready, Deb began, inch by inch, to enter into the process of adoption as a single mom. You make a picture book, you pour your authentic self into the creation of its pages, and you trust that some young pregnant mother will feel called to choose your book, your story, your heart, over all the other eager adoptive-parents-to-be. You navigate numerous in-home visits. You explain to surprised friends and family about the journey you are hoping to embark on. And then you wait. And wait. And wait. All the while, you do your very best to hold an open place in your heart for this unknown visitor who you simply have to trust is moving toward you somehow, even as you doubt and wonder.
In Deb's case, while she waited, and waited, and waited, far away in her home in Portsmouth, I found myself sitting around on one particular day, thinking of her and her wait. Our "coach and client" work was done (everything but the waiting, that is!) But when I have opened my heart to someone, it stays open, even after the work has shifted or completed. So there I sat, thinking of her, feeling for her, holding a space. And this little "sound of waiting" just started coming forward through my guitar. It was not a commissioned song. No one was officially requesting it. I did not record it in a studio with a budget. No bells and whistles at all. It was just this little, simple arrival from someplace far away, which I recorded on my computer as I sat there. Something about it captures, for me, that experience of feeling so far away from what you want, yet locating the awareness that somewhere, somewhere inside of you, some part of you is holding out a space for something truer. More of what you imagine you most want and maybe, maybe, could have.
CLOSER
For Deb
Waiting
For everything to fall
Into place
So I can see your face
And erase
All this waiting
Waiting in a state of grace
Afraid to stay
Afraid to make each next move
But I do
'Cause I keep on believing
That it is bringing me
Closer to you
Closer to you
Closer to you
And I
Am getting closer too
I sent the song to Deb, and she shared with me that it was deeply meaningful to her to feel so "seen" in her waiting. So many of us are waiting, in one way or another, and it can be invisible to those around us.
Many, many more days passed. The waiting continued.
When Deb got the call she had long been dreaming of, things happened astonishingly fast. One minute she was pondering whether or not she had it in her to follow this path indefinitely, and the next she was scrambling to pack a bag. Her new baby-to-be was being born, early: right then! She met up with her own mother, my good friend Sandy, and off the two of them sailed to Connecticut, just in time to be present for this miraculous birth.
And it was miraculous. And beautiful. And here, before she even had time to take a deep breath, was her beautiful son! She was filled with the wonder of life, gazing down at this bright-eyed little babe. Her heart opened, filled, flowed over on itself and outward in all directions. Here he is! The natural and beautiful end-point of all this waiting.
While she was signing the adoption papers, Deb learned that Teddy was going to need open heart surgery immediately. That his prognosis was unclear. That the road ahead was not a simple one. There were unforeseen complications.
I think this was a moment of truth for Deb. A life-changing one. Not because she carefully considered the options and made a thoughtful choice. But rather, because she knew the answer before issue was even raised. She was already in love. Teddy was already her son. The road before her was already not about deciding "in or out." It was about walking this path with this beloved boy. She had known him all of a few hours but already there was nothing to consider. Her mother echoed these same sentiments fully and completely. Little Teddy was already family. All doubts, uncertainties, what-ifs and second guesses had been left in the dust the very moment that Deb and Teddy connected. Such is the wonder and the beauty and the simple world-clarifying miracle of love.
The month that followed was like nothing anyone could have predicted. Deb got to learn every day how deeply her love ran, how frightening it can feel to step into the unknown, and be in the hands of doctors so fully. She got to know how intense and powerful it is to be so connected to another human being that everything else recedes into the background. (all of this occurred with her own mother, connected to her every bit as deeply, right by her side, every single day of that long and intense hotel-and-hospital month.)
A few months later, when the eye of the storm had passed and Teddy was home getting stabilized, I met with Deb to do an interview for a song for Teddy. Sandy had created a song for each of her other two grandchildren a decade before (children of her son and daughter-in-law, Andy and Michelle--Your Family for Jonah in and Great Big Heart for Ella. And now it was Deb's turn to create and receive a song or her son.
Many, many more days passed. The waiting continued.
When Deb got the call she had long been dreaming of, things happened astonishingly fast. One minute she was pondering whether or not she had it in her to follow this path indefinitely, and the next she was scrambling to pack a bag. Her new baby-to-be was being born, early: right then! She met up with her own mother, my good friend Sandy, and off the two of them sailed to Connecticut, just in time to be present for this miraculous birth.
And it was miraculous. And beautiful. And here, before she even had time to take a deep breath, was her beautiful son! She was filled with the wonder of life, gazing down at this bright-eyed little babe. Her heart opened, filled, flowed over on itself and outward in all directions. Here he is! The natural and beautiful end-point of all this waiting.
While she was signing the adoption papers, Deb learned that Teddy was going to need open heart surgery immediately. That his prognosis was unclear. That the road ahead was not a simple one. There were unforeseen complications.
I think this was a moment of truth for Deb. A life-changing one. Not because she carefully considered the options and made a thoughtful choice. But rather, because she knew the answer before issue was even raised. She was already in love. Teddy was already her son. The road before her was already not about deciding "in or out." It was about walking this path with this beloved boy. She had known him all of a few hours but already there was nothing to consider. Her mother echoed these same sentiments fully and completely. Little Teddy was already family. All doubts, uncertainties, what-ifs and second guesses had been left in the dust the very moment that Deb and Teddy connected. Such is the wonder and the beauty and the simple world-clarifying miracle of love.
The month that followed was like nothing anyone could have predicted. Deb got to learn every day how deeply her love ran, how frightening it can feel to step into the unknown, and be in the hands of doctors so fully. She got to know how intense and powerful it is to be so connected to another human being that everything else recedes into the background. (all of this occurred with her own mother, connected to her every bit as deeply, right by her side, every single day of that long and intense hotel-and-hospital month.)
A few months later, when the eye of the storm had passed and Teddy was home getting stabilized, I met with Deb to do an interview for a song for Teddy. Sandy had created a song for each of her other two grandchildren a decade before (children of her son and daughter-in-law, Andy and Michelle--Your Family for Jonah in and Great Big Heart for Ella. And now it was Deb's turn to create and receive a song or her son.
Driving up for the song interview, I hadn't seen Deb in over a year. I caught my first sight of her across a grassy field. She was pushing a stroller and I didn't recognize her at first. Everything about her energy seemed different to me.
SHE WAS A MOM! I could see it in the very arc of her movements, pushing that stroller and talking into the little bed within it.
At the song interview, I heard her give voice to what was plainly written all over her face. The wonder, the surprise of all the twists and turns and lifts and unexpected warm moments of living inside of love each day. The rightness of all the paths she had walked to get just exactly here. And her astonishment at how much MORE ASTONISHING it was than she had foreseen, even.
The song we created together is called "Teddy's Song." I played it live for Deb and her mom (and Teddy!) recently. Teddy was completely alert and engaged in his little bouncy chair as I played, and when I hit the last note his little hand raised up the air and he yelled out "Gaaaaa!" with such lightness and joy that I felt delight well up inside me! "Thank you for getting this song so right" Deb wrote to me, in an email afterward.
SHE WAS A MOM! I could see it in the very arc of her movements, pushing that stroller and talking into the little bed within it.
At the song interview, I heard her give voice to what was plainly written all over her face. The wonder, the surprise of all the twists and turns and lifts and unexpected warm moments of living inside of love each day. The rightness of all the paths she had walked to get just exactly here. And her astonishment at how much MORE ASTONISHING it was than she had foreseen, even.
The song we created together is called "Teddy's Song." I played it live for Deb and her mom (and Teddy!) recently. Teddy was completely alert and engaged in his little bouncy chair as I played, and when I hit the last note his little hand raised up the air and he yelled out "Gaaaaa!" with such lightness and joy that I felt delight well up inside me! "Thank you for getting this song so right" Deb wrote to me, in an email afterward.
It was such a profound honor to get to write this song, having known about the IDEA of Teddy in the earliest moments of Deb's awareness. I got to watch her awaken to the unfolding of her journey as a mom--unexpected, unforeseen requiring deep courage and belief.
Teddy is an astonishing little creature. Just being near him is an experience in feeling lighter. Last winter when he was born, his ability to make it through multiple surgeries amazed everyone at the hospital, and it escaped no one's notice that his simple presence drew everyone in this hospital in. Everyone seemed to have fallen in love with him. Everyone was rooting for him.
His eyes shine wide and bright. He looks right into you! And he has a lightness and an effortless beauty that makes him seem like an old soul. When Deb started to put words to her love for him, during the song interview, I felt the whole room expand!
More recently he has gone back to the hospital for a few more procedures, to make sure he stays on track. Each time, Deb plays him his song. I love telling you that it's like magic to him. He has heard it countless times now, and when he is upset, Deb tells me this is the one solution that soothes him right back to calm, every single time. And why wouldn't it? It is filled with the energy of years worth of waiting, and the joyous conclusion of that waiting in the form of an unbreakable bond of love between him and his mom. He is a little wonder, and somehow, I just know that some part of him hears all of that in his song, and it touches him in that deepest place.
Teddy is an astonishing little creature. Just being near him is an experience in feeling lighter. Last winter when he was born, his ability to make it through multiple surgeries amazed everyone at the hospital, and it escaped no one's notice that his simple presence drew everyone in this hospital in. Everyone seemed to have fallen in love with him. Everyone was rooting for him.
His eyes shine wide and bright. He looks right into you! And he has a lightness and an effortless beauty that makes him seem like an old soul. When Deb started to put words to her love for him, during the song interview, I felt the whole room expand!
More recently he has gone back to the hospital for a few more procedures, to make sure he stays on track. Each time, Deb plays him his song. I love telling you that it's like magic to him. He has heard it countless times now, and when he is upset, Deb tells me this is the one solution that soothes him right back to calm, every single time. And why wouldn't it? It is filled with the energy of years worth of waiting, and the joyous conclusion of that waiting in the form of an unbreakable bond of love between him and his mom. He is a little wonder, and somehow, I just know that some part of him hears all of that in his song, and it touches him in that deepest place.
This song is for Teddy, and Deb, and Sandy, whose generous support has brought this music, these thoughts, and so much else to life. It is for you, too. For the place in you that holds a dream. Maybe that dream seems unlikely, or far away. But it's in there, and it's yours, and the possibilities, when you truly engage with it, can be unexpected, revelatory and life-altering. This song is for the fighter in you, too. The place within you that is strong enough to sail through the likes of heart surgeries within minutes of your first showing up on the planet. And it's for the love inside of you: the love that was put there by those who raised you, the love you call on when you reach out to love another. And the love you will always have, deep inside you, flowing inward and outward, for all the days of your life.
TEDDY'S SONG
Open your eyes from the sweetest sleep
And all of the light inside you
Shines from those eyes so wide and deep
And everyone sees it, and feels their heart believe it
The miracle of you
You have a light so strong and bright inside you
And oh how it shines my boy
Shining so tender and bright inside you
You bring new meaning to the meaning of life
By shining so bright
And you were always on your way
And I’ve been heading always towards you
I will be grateful every day
For you, for you
Open your eyes and see my love
All of the light inside me
There is a whole new world because
Of the way that I find you; the way that you find me
‘Cause you have a light so strong and bright inside you
And oh how it shines my boy
Lighting up all the other hearts around you
You bring new meaning to the meaning of life
By shining so bright
And we’ll be always on our way
To all the futures we’ll create
For all the paths that we will clear
I’m just so glad you’re here, so glad you’re here
We are so glad you’re here
Anna Huckabee Tull is an award-winning Singer-Songwriter and Life Coach. "Teddy's Song" was recorded at Wellspring Sound in Acton, MA. Anna fulfilled a long-time dream of her own by recording this song with the profoundly talented Oen Kennedy (!!) on all acoustic guitar parts. Eric Kilburn performed fretless bass and mixed the song. As always, he did a bang-up job of helping tenderness align with crafty, exacting precision.
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