It is amazing how quickly and unexpectedly one's life can change so
drastically. This is a post I frankly never imagined I'd be
writing to all of you. We were so certain (well as certain as
one can be with an international adoption) of our family growing from
these two little girls and I have been so happy to share that
excitement with all of you. However, we were told on Wednesday
morning that we would not be able to adopt our twin girls after all.
Apparently, the governing authorities in their country decided
another family was better suited. Now, from everything I had
thought I understood about this country's process, I didn't think
this would happen. I am so sad to learn I was mistaken.
For what consolation there is, our caseworker seemed as shocked and
surprised as we were.
I am grieving the loss of my girls, yet I am happy to know that they
will have a home. I pray that it will be a loving family who
will teach them the gospel, but it still doesn't lessen the sadness.
Their home was supposed to be with us; they were supposed to be
Lexy's younger sisters and those three girls were going to drive me
crazy by sharing a room.
I think what makes this even more difficult is twofold. First,
this isn't the only time Luke and I have had to wade through these
emotions. A while back, we had tried to adopt a little girl
from India (Chloe, I will always remember her name and now apparently
Zoe and Madeline's as well), and we met with this same result.
I knew Chloe would always be the child that we lost, but I just never
imagined it would turn into the children we lost.
The second reason as to why this is just so hard is that when we
started down the India path, we were very well informed of the
risks. Our caseworker was very open that we could be well into
the process and another family could be given her file. We
chose to take the risk and it hurt when it happened. This time
around, we really thought we knew the country’s program. We
were sure we understood how their system worked and we also had our
previous two adoptions, from the same country, as precedent. We
really thought that we had been “pre-matched” with the twins and
that no other families would then be given her file unless we
withdrew. We didn't think we were taking a very big risk. That
is part of what makes this so much harder; it utterly blindsided us.
This has caused me to be even more exceedingly thankful to God for
his providence in our adoptions of Lexy and Jon. I am so
grateful that both of those went through and that we have both our
kids; it could have so easily not been the case. When we were
applying to adopt Lexy, it was taking a long time for our FBI
background check to come through. We were contacted by our
caseworker who informed us that the country officials were growing
impatient and that if we didn't have it done soon, our application
for Lexy could be withdrawn. Now, there was literally nothing
we could do to speed up the FBI's process; we were threatened with
the loss of our daughter. I am now, after this event, so beyond
thankful to God that He didn't allow that threat to become a reality
when it so quickly and easily could have been.
I would expect anyone who has ever had to go through a miscarriage,
stillbirth, lost a foster child, or dealt with a failed adoption, can understand
and relate to what Luke and I are going through. I am not
merely writing for myself as a sort of therapy (though I am doing
that), or as a way to simply garner sympathy, but I am writing for
all who have grieved or are grieving the loss of children in these
ways. It is a real, painful and long process and, like all
grief, not one that ever fully goes away. Even well after we had
started the process for Zoe and Madeline and I was full on in the
excitement of it, some random thing would remind me of Chloe.
This will now be the case with two more little girls.
I'd like to say something to friends, co-workers, and family of those
who are going through similar grief to our situation. Please
don't say things such as “Well, at least you never knew the child”
or “well, it's got to be a bit easier, since you never met them.”
or “Well, at least they weren't around you for very long.”
Now, I hold no malice toward anyone for saying such things; I know
you all mean well and are trying to comfort and reassure. But
those type of statements just aren't true and I'm quite sure anyone
going through a similar situation to ours would wholeheartedly agree
with me. In a very real way, we did know them. We were a
part of the child's life. We saw pictures or videos or interacted
with them to an extent. Even if there was no real-life,
in-person interaction (as in our case, for example) Luke and I were
still fully committed to Zoe and Madeline, and before them, to
Chloe. We loved them unconditionally. They were already our
daughters and Lexy and Jon's siblings and now that has been taken
away from all of us. For women who have lost a child due to
miscarriage or stillbirth it is even worse. They could not possibly have known the
child more! They literally gave it life and saw and felt it
growing inside them; there is nothing more personal and poignant when
taken away.
So what is next for us? We are still going to adopt.
There are still so many children in desperate circumstances who need
loving homes. We cannot and will not ignore the plight of the
orphan. This does not mean, however, that this is an easy
decision for u, to move forward with again. It means taking
another risk, putting ourselves out there in a vulnerable, emotional
state, perhaps to be hurt again. But as I have said in previous
posts, adoption requires sacrifice on the part of the adoptive
parents, but these children are worth our discomfort. We have
already spent time and substantial funds toward this country's
program and our dossier is nearly finished. We can still use all of
that. We will still adopt from the same country; our family
will still be growing. We just now do not know by how many, or
what gender or age.
Grief is such an odd experience in general and this type of
situation, I feel, only makes it more strange. It is an odd
place to be, feeling hope and excitement as to who the new child will
be, yet such deep sadness and regret over those whom we have lost all
at once. I find myself feeling guilty over my hopefulness
regarding the next child, as if that is somehow doing Zoe and
Madeline wrong. I know that sentiment is not true, but it is
still there. Again, we have been through this before, but I
thought we were done with this roller coaster. When I first got
the call, it felt like a sick joke, as we had so recently experienced
this with Chloe. It's not amusing though, not in the least.
I have found myself thinking about two things a lot over these last
few days. The first is the sovereignty of God. There is
nothing that is outside his control and even this sad situation was
not an accident. It didn't slip by God or get past Him or leave
Him in a situation where He wanted to intervene, but He just wasn't
able to. There is a purpose in all this, even if I cannot see
it now or will never see it this side of eternity. There is
such comfort in this. One of the biblical passages that
continues to come to mind is Romans 8:28-39:
"28 And we know that in all things God works for the good
of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
29 For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to
the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many
brothers and sisters. 30 And those he predestined, he also
called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he
also glorified.
31 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God
is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his
own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along
with him, graciously give us all things? 33 Who will bring any
charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies.
34 Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who
died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand
of God and is also interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us
from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or
famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36 As it is written:
'For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep
to be slaughtered.'
37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through
him who loved us. 38 For I am convinced that neither death nor
life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future,
nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else
in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God
that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
This experience of grief is not just random or accidental. God
is using it for the good of conforming me to the image of His son,
Jesus Christ. I can think of no higher purpose for any
difficulty. God is not only using this grief to bring me closer
to Him, but, if I trust what His word says, He is using it to make me
more like Christ. That is an incredible and comforting
thought. This is what I hold on to as we figure out what next
is for us exactly.
I have also been thinking a lot about a song I heard often growing
up, as my mother played it frequently. As a child, I didn't
really understand it. I knew it had deep meaning but I could
not tell you what that was precisely. As I have grown older,
gotten married, and had children, I have come to understand it more.
This experience of grief over now three lost children has, I believe,
finally helped me fully understand the song. Anyone who knows
me and my family well can probably guess the artist; it is a Rich
Mullins song. I've included it in this post in case perhaps it
will be a comfort to someone else, as it is for me. It is a
reminder of whom I cling to and why.
I hope that my sharing of this post, with its grief and honest
emotions, will not detour anyone who may have been considering
adopting or fostering. There are so many hurting kids who need
families. As hard as it is, we need to put them above our
wanting to be comfortable, wanting to be happy and just not hurt.
That is what we are striving to do, and this can only fully be done
by God's grace and strength. If you are considering opening
yourself up to these kids (and to all the heartache that can come
with it), I encourage you to not go into it blindly or unprepared.
You can be aware of the difficulties ahead and yet still choose to
make the sacrifice and risk discomfort for the sake of someone else.
I'd encourage you to take that route, hard as it is.
