When we started this third
adoption process, we knew it would be an emotional experience.
Our last two were no exception, but we just didn’t realize the kind
of emotions we would have to process this time through. During
our adoptions of Jon and Lexy, we dealt with the anxiety of waiting
and the pain of separation in between trips. We dealt with the
concern over what our “normal” would now look like, once they
both arrived. This time around though, we have dealt with so
much uncertainty and sadness. My goal, as 2018 is ending, is
for this post to be a remembrance for the kids we never got to know.
I also hope this will give you a very personal glimpse into the life of an adoptive family. Maybe this will be a chance for you to learn
about a different perspective and life perhaps from your “normal.” routines.
Around this time last year, Luke
and I were in the living room of my family’s home in Florida.
We were looking at a profile of a little girl from an Asian country,
named Chloe, who was blind. We felt immediate concern for her
but held back. Jon had just come home three months earlier and
we also weren’t sure we were financially settled enough to start
another adoption. So we delayed, but finally, in February, we
contacted the agency that had her profile and started the process.
There was an immensely long unexpected wait for the authorities in
her country to decide if they would consider our family, due to my
blindness. When they finally did, in April, we were ready. We were
ready to go through the country’s more stringent and frankly vexing
requirements for Chloe’s sake. The very next day, after we
had just heard the positive news of our acceptance and readying
ourselves, we were told Chloe would be given to another family.
We had been well warned of this possibility, but it still hurt.
The immediate thoughts of “what if we hadn’t delayed, back in
December” pursued us relentlessly. I still think of her and
hope she is safe with her new family, wherever that may be.
Then, after taking some time to
regroup, we went back to the agency through which we had adopted
Lexy. We were given the profile of the twins, Zoe and
Madeline. Now, the loss of Chloe, as hard as it was, at least
made some sense to us now. Surely, these were the girls we were
supposed to adopt. We were very familiar and comfortable with
the country’s process, having gone through it two times before.
We were very certain that they could not be given to a different
family, as we had adopted from the same country twice with no such
experience. Surely now, this would go smoothly. Well in
September of this year, a few days after our friends from church had
just helped us organize a large garage sale specifically to raise
money for our girls, the most unexpected news hit us out of the blue;
the twins were not to be ours either.
Just a few weeks ago, we asked
for more information about a little girl named Maggie. However,
after reading through her medical information, we learned that she
suffers from seizures. This was one of the few things, that we
stated in our paperwork, we couldn’t take on. As I am the
primary caregiver and am totally blind, we just couldn’t do that
for safety reasons. The other issue we cannot make work is deafness, as communication
with the majority of my family would be exceedingly difficult for a
deaf child. I wish I could explain in appropriate words how
hard it was to make that phone call, saying that we couldn’t move
forward with Maggie’s profile. I know there was no moral
guilt in that decision. I know from a purely logical
standpoint, we made the right choice, for her safety and for our
entire family’s well-being. But I still feel that I abandoned
that girl; I found myself wishing that I wasn’t blind. The
agency already experienced great difficulty in finding a family for
her (due to her many medical problems) and I hated that we were now
just another number on that list. Pray for Maggie.
So now, as this year draws to a
close, we are not at all where I thought we’d be in this process.
I thought by this time we would have gone to meet our child for our
first trip. We don’t even have a child yet that we are
fighting for. We are just waiting. We are waiting to
finally be matched with a child. All our paperwork is submitted
and approved; there is nothing we can do to speed up the process.
So we wait. While we wait, we think about these four girls that
we lost for various reasons. It grieves me that there is even
one name on such a list, but for there to be four. I just never
saw that coming. I had always known how blessed we were, in
regard to how smoothly Jon and Lexy’s adoptions went. Now, I
truly am aware of how gracious and beyond kind God was to us.
But God is good all the time, and
all the time God is good. I know that these four girls are not
lost to him; he has not forgotten them. He has a purpose in all
of these difficulties that our family has faced, and He also has a
purpose for each of those girls lives. God is sovereign over
all things, and none of this slipped through his fingers. I
hold to that, whenever I start to think of those girls, and I wonder
if there was something else we could or should have done. I
hold to that as I wonder what the new year will bring for us.
Music is another passion of mine
so I’m ending this post with two songs. The first of these is in the above video. This is a
beautiful song, written by Rich Mullins, (but recorded by his friends
after his sudden and unexpected death) that has really resonated with
me as this year has progressed. It is a song of raw emotion but
also trust and hope. I hope it will make you think and also
bring you comfort, as it has done for me.
The second song is one I first
heard at church. It reminds me of who is in control and why we
are doing all of this to begin with. It is one that I am
planning to start playing every New Year’s Eve as a reminder.
Perhaps it can be that for you.
