The Children I Don't Know but Can't Forget

I have been putting off writing this for a while. It is hard and like most people, I'm not a fan of doing hard things. However, there is a saying at our house, which I find myself repeating so often to my kids, "If something's hard, that's not a reason not to do it, it's a reason to do it." They will usually sullenly say the last part back to me, like I'm sure I did to my mom and dad with their sayings. But this is something I need to remind myself of just as often.

I figured by this point in the year we would already know what child or children we would be adopting! I wouldn't have thought we would still be waiting on a referral! This isn't where I wanted to be and from my human perspective, it doesn't seem fair or make any sense. This adoption has not gone at all like we planned or thought it should.

This post is about all the kids we tried to pursue but couldn't, for one reason or another. I never imagined this list would be so long. But you see, I'm writing this because I don't want these kids to be forgotten. My insightful sister had an especially helpful and wise perspective. She said that perhaps Luke and I became aware of these kids so we would be able to specifically pray for them. I think she's right and if you continue reading you will now know them and I hope you will pray for them as well. Read on to learn about Betty, Chloe, Zoe and Madeline, Maggie, Dotty and Hugh. These are real kids with real stories and lives, even if what I can tell you is very little. Adoption matters. These kids matter.

When we saw Betty's profile, she was three years old and had spina bifida. There was a short video of her. She wasn't talking yet. That's really all we knew. We were strongly considering pursuing her, even though we knew hardly anything about her medical condition. But then, we stumbled upon another profile, which caused us to move in a different direction.

Chloe was six and living in Asia. She was totally blind, due to literally not having eyes. We felt strongly about her and were scared for her in Asia as a blind girl. There was much doubt if her country would even work with us, due to my blindness. While we waited to find out, we found a video of her, posted on the website of the christian residential home where she was staying. I still remember the sound of her voice! I had so desperately needed that reassurance, as we had been given old information, and there was doubt as to if she could speak. I was afraid, wondering if I could safely raise a nonverbal child without sight. But God let me hear her speak! And then, the day after we heard that her country's government would work with us, we were told that her profile was no longer available and that it had most likely been given to another family, from another agency, who was further along in the process. Even though we were told of this risk up front, it still hurt. I think about her often.

So then, we decided to go back through the country where Lexy and Jon are from. We contacted the agency through which we adopted Lexy. We were familiar with the requirements and the staff and felt fairly comfortable. We started working toward adopting twin girls, Zoe and Madeline. Things seemed pretty set. We talked to the kids and Lexy began making plans as to who would have what bed. Then, the week after we had organized a garage sale to help bring them home, we were told that we had not been approved for them by the country's government. I have written much about that experience and the grief it brought and still brings. They were three when we started the process. Zoe is sighted and healthy, all things considered for living in overseas orphanages. Madeline is blind and was not speaking, last we knew. I miss them terribly.

Maggie was six when we saw her profile and were considering applying to try and adopt her. She had had a brain tumor, was not speaking and had frequent seizures. After a lot of internal struggling, I determined that I would not feel safe, as a blind person being the main caretaker, dealing with seizures. I pray someone has or will soon adopt this little girl. I resented my blindness, which I haven't done in quite a while, because I felt it prevented me from caring for her and being the mom she needs.

Dotty is three and has hydrocephalus, but to what severity we don't know. There is a high link between hydrocephalus, hearing loss and seizures. Again, as a blind person, I didn't think i could safely care for her if she had either of these, let alone both. It hurt and I grieved to say no to pursuing her further. I don't think I acted wrongly in my decision, but it still hurts and I still think of and worry over her.

Hugh is a one year old boy with a heart condition. We applied to adopt him but still have heard nothing back. It has been a long while since our application and I strongly believe that he will be another name on my list of kids whom I haven't forgotten but will never know. I never thought I'd even have such a list to begin with.

Please join me in remembering these kids and their names and what little details we o of their lives. They matter. Their stories matter. Pray for them. Pray that they are safe where they are, that they are being fed enough, that they are not being neglected medically and that they will be adopted by loving families. Adoption matters.

One Statement that Shouldn't be Said to a Grieving Mother

This is not an easy thing to write about, but I feel it needs to be done, despite my discomfort.  I hope that this can be seen as a polite, yet vitally necessary, public service announcement.  I’d like to tell you the one thing that you shouldn’t ever say to a parent who has lost a child, through either miscarriage, stillbirth, or failed adoption.

Now, I know that seeing a person grieving, whatever the cause, is hard.  You want to be of some comfort.  So I understand the good intentions that are there, I really do.  I also understand that, often, there aren’t concrete actions we can do for a person in such circumstances, so all that is left to us are words.  We want these words to be comforting, healing and encouraging.  That said, there is one phrase that is none of those things.  I have heard it myself a time or two.  It is the phrase “you didn’t know the child well or very long” and variations on such wording.

I know that being hurtful is not your impulse and when so many say this phrase, there is no malice intended.  However, that doesn’t detract from the negative emotions this statement, and the sentiment behind it, bring.  I feel I can best explain why this is the case from my own life.

You see, last year, our family thought we were going to adopt twin girls.  We were sent videos and pictures of them.  We were committed to them.  We loved them.  They were already our daughters and the sisters of our two children.  It didn’t matter that we had never seen them in person.  It didn’t matter that we had never held them before.  It didn’t matter that we had only known of their existence for a few months.  They were our girls.

So when we were told, abruptly and unexpectedly, that the government in their country had decided another family was better suited and that furthermore, we could not appeal this decision, we were devastated.  Our children had been taken from us and there was absolutely nothing we could do about it!  When someone says, in effect, the sadness can’t really be that bad because you didn’t really know them or you didn’t physically hold them, etc., it frankly hurts and feels rather demeaning.  I essentially now am put in a position where I have to justify my grief to you.  It doesn’t matter how long or short our time was with them or by what methods we interacted or how much or little we knew about them.  None of those factors influenced our love for them or how much we grieved, and honestly are still grieving, for them.

Let’s put this in a different perspective for a moment here.  You wouldn’t say such a statement to a parent who, let’s say, tragically lost their two-year-old to cancer.  You wouldn’t, not even for a second, think that just because the child was only two, instead of 12, therefore, they shouldn’t be that sad.  You wouldn’t let the length of time they had known and loved their child be a factor in assessing their grief, so why does this happen in the above mentioned situations?

As true as this is for myself, as an adoptive mother, I feel it is compounded many times over for those who have lost a child to miscarriage or stillbirth.  I beg you, do not express such words around them, no matter how kindly you mean them.  For these women, there is no possible way they could have known their child more!  They carried them; their bodies nurtured and sustained that child!  They literally felt that child growing inside them!  There is no connection that is as personal and nothing more painful and poignant when it is severed!  If you are reading this and you have experienced this loss, please don’t let anyone minimize or trivialize your grief!

The loss of a child, no matter how it happens, is probably one of the most horrible events we can endure.  Let’s be mindful of the impact of our words.  Let’s be there for each other and help each other grieve fully and well.

A Letter to My Son: Keep Overcoming

Dear son,

I remember when I first met you in that eastern European orphanage.  You couldn’t walk, but rather stumbled and stomped about, and only when a worker held you up by your hands.  Your legs were weak and your steps extremely uncertain.  Your skin was pockmarked, and you were so thin for your age of seven and a half years.

It is not our proudest moment to say this, but your dad and I were nervous.  We had been told that you were blind, just as your sister and I are.  We were familiar and comfortable with blindness; it was already our normal.  However, we were also told you had cerebral palsy, but to what extent, we had no idea.  We honestly didn’t know much about cerebral palsy.  We were told repeatedly by the orphanage staff that your entire left side was weak, and we should avoid things like holding your left hand, for example.  When we visited you at meals, all you ever had was runny soup and a piece of bread.  You didn’t know any English, and our questions to your caregivers about your schooling were met with vague, roundabout answers.  But son, please do not be angry at those who cared for you before you became ours.  They were doing the best they could with what little time, information and resources they had.  We hold no malice towards them, and I hope you won’t either.

 Please believe me when I say that I’m not bringing up any of these things about your past to shame or humiliate you.  On the contrary, I want you to know where you came from so you can all the more easily see how far you’ve come!  I want you to see how truly incredible you are and how your determination has impacted your dad and I.  I want others to learn from your perseverance and strength of will.  You’ve only been home with us for 17 months, but in such a short amount of time, you have overcome in so many areas!  You have astounded so many people, including us.

Keep overcoming your supposed physical limitations.  When you first came home, we wondered if you would be able to climb the stairs, unassisted.  Within two days, your dad had taught you how to use both hands on the railing for support and you were navigating those stairs!  Within a couple weeks, you had learned to scoot around the living room and you reveled in this new-found independence.  When we first took you to physical therapy, it was doubted whether you would ever be able to walk on your own.  You started to use a walker and loved it but we weren’t sure if you would ever be able to be without it.

 Within three months of coming home, you took your first tentative, unassisted steps at grandma’s house!  I wish you could understand how proud of you your dad and I were at that moment and what an incredible feat you were accomplishing! You were so scared but determined, and you let the excitement of getting to ring that musical doorbell at grandma’s front door, motivate you to walk farther and farther on your own. 

 

When you first came home, you were afraid to use your left hand for anything.  Now, you know that God gave you two good, strong hands and you are using them both to play piano.  When you first came home, the heaviest thing you most likely ever lifted in your orphanage life was your shoes.  Now, you are gaining the upper body strength to hold your own growing body weight on one of the uneven bars at your sister’s gymnastics facility.  In your orphanage life, you mostly sat on a couch, with only a TV or radio for amusement.  Now you are running down our hallway, jumping on your trampoline and even jumping some without support!  Your legs continue to grow even stronger; you are now also able to pedal your new adaptive bike!

My son, keep overcoming in your learning.  You have grasped English incredibly well for how short a time you’ve been home with us!  If I were suddenly uprooted and thrown into a place where no one spoke my language or understood anything I said, I’d be a bawling mess!  But not you.  You aren’t afraid to put yourself out there and just talk to people.  I love seeing you at church, the playground or restaurant, talking with whoever will listen.  You have learned so many new concepts since you’ve been with us.  You can read short sentences using embossed print letters and braille as well. You have a knack for phonics and spelling and are grasping the basics of grammar.  You are learning how to add and subtract and are even learning about the geography of United States, this new place that is your home.

You have already become so much more than I think anyone in your home country would have imagined.  Honestly, you have amazed me.  Yes, your dad and I try every day to give you the opportunities, encouragement, and tools to overcome.  We try and challenge you to learn and work as hard as you can.  But if you did not have the desire to overcome, to become more, the drive to push yourself, even when it’s hard, none of what we do would matter.  My son, keep overcoming!  My son, keep teaching us and everyone around you that a person doesn’t have to be defined only by their disability, current circumstances or for that matter, their past.  We are so glad to be a part of your journey of overcoming and can’t wait to see how far the next years take you! Your dad and I are so proud of you.

Your Parents

An Overview of a Year: as Experienced Through Our Third Adoption Journey

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.

Christmas Time Reflections of an Adoptive Mother

I can’t believe it’s already Christmas eve, time sure goes by so fast! It’s also so hard to believe that I have been a mom for a little over 3 years now. In some ways, the time has flown by and in others, well not so much. I think how far my son and daughter have come in such a short time and I am so proud of them and thankful to God for His care of them. This time of year lends itself well to reflection and adoption sure gives one much to reflect upon.

This is our first Christmas, in quite a while, where we are not traveling. This has caused me to experience mixed emotions. On the one hand, I miss my parents, siblings and in-laws and want to see them, particularly around such a special time.  However, even stronger than my own feelings, I want my kids to experience Christmas around all the extended family. But on the other side, I am excited to discover what Christmas for just our little, immediate family looks like.

I think Christmas, and all its associated traditions of family, food, decorations and gifts is probably one of everyone’s fondest memories of childhood.  It is also, if we don't take a moment to pause, time which we can so easily take for granted. As I think back on my childhood and associated Christmas memories with my family (certain music, making the same desserts every year, smelling that breakfast casserole in the morning), I find myself thinking of my kids, especially my son. For the first eight years of his life, it is extremely likely that he never enjoyed any of those things that we can just assume is part of every child's experience around this time of year. He doesn’t have any of those special memories. He never had that anticipation; it was probably pretty similar to all his other orphanage days, with perhaps a couple pieces of candy thrown in.

But far more important than the fun aspects, I want them to know the true meaning of Christmas.  When I was growing up, we had the nativity scenes (which my mom and I had this continuous game of rearranging); we would talk about the meaning of it.  We would read the christmas narrative from the gospel of Luke before starting the morning festivities.  There was also our church's annual Christmas eve service.  I doubt either of my kids were told anything about who Jesus is or the reason why Christmas is so important.  I'm hoping to change that, too.

this is a new experience for both my kids.  I have been trying to find ways to give them those unique reminders that this time of year is different from all the other months.  It can be a bit tricky as, they are both blind, so they can’t just by default see the Christmas tree every time they run into the living room. I’ve had to find other ways, through sound and touch, to remind them that Christmas time is unique and special. We play Christmas music a lot, we’ve been making special Christmas candies (chocolate butterscotch peanut clusters, white chocolate covered peanut butter crackers, etc.), talking about Christmas dinner, decorating and of course the gifts under the tree. But even those gifts, which to most kids are the highlight, have taken some time to excite them. Just a couple days ago, Lexy came and asked me, for the first time, if she could “go look at the presents.” This simple act of feeling the packages and shaking them and trying to guess what they are, that seems so central to every kid’s Christmas experience, literally just occurred to my five year old daughter. Jon has not yet expressed any such interest. I am very hopeful that by next year, that will change for him.

Emotions are such a crazy thing. I find myself wanting to give my kids all they’ve missed due to their orphanage years. I want to somehow undo any negative things they may have faced during that time when they weren’t ours. I want to make up for all the missed opportunities, learning and experiences, but I know that isn’t fully possible. I also wish we had been able to adopt sooner and had somehow found these two when they were younger. Again, I know that isn’t rational or for that matter, healthy.  I also frequently think of Zoe and Madeline and wonder if they are home with their family by now. I hope so. Finally, I wonder who will be coming to join our crazy family; I wish we could send them a Christmas present. But in all this, there is one thing onto which I hold; I know that God is sovereign and His timing is perfect. So the best I can do is give my kids all that I can and pray that it will be enough. So, if you have kids or grand-kids or nieces or nephews, and you see them reveling in all the joy of Christmas, enjoy it with them for all it’s worth! And in the quiet moments, think of all the kids, here in this country and overseas, who won’t be enjoying this time. Consider if you could change that for one or multiple of those kids by this time next year. What a Christmas gift that would be!

A Letter to My Lost Twin Girls

***Author’s note***

First, I just need to say I honestly feel pretentious using the term author, but I felt like “writer’s note” was an odd phrase.  Be that as it may, I wanted to explain what this letter has come to mean.  When I started writing it, I didn’t realize the impact this seemingly simple thing was going to have on me.  I wanted to try and communicate to people (family members and friends of those adopting and those in the trenches of the adoption process) about the loss in adoption when things don’t go as planned.  I think this is an area of grief that so many are unaware of or ill-prepared for.  We certainly were.  I also had hoped that it could be a comfort to anyone who has lost a child, regardless of the circumstances.

In my social work career (before I became a full-time mom), I had at times suggested this approach of writing a letter to someone, even if it could never be sent.  I never had a reason to do it myself.  Well, as it turns out, it is quite effective and reveals a lot of things.

It didn’t take me long, as I started writing and the words tumbled out, for me to realize this was more than an exercise or an educational tool. I was and still am drastically grieving the abrupt and unexpected separation from my twin girls.  I have to admit, this surprised me.  I, of course, knew I was still sad over what had happened, but I didn’t realize how deeply embedded it still was. I had continued to think that there would be healing once we were matched again.  Our family could finally just move forward with our adoption journey.

As the weeks have gone on, though, the wait has become more and more frustrating.  Writing this piece has shown me, as I need constant reminder, of God’s wisdom and sovereignty once again.  I’ve come to see that perhaps the purpose of this continued waiting is, at least in part, to give me time to rightly and properly grieve.  I have been granted the time to not hurriedly disregard their memories, while also not projecting emotions onto the new child or children.  Both of these realities are so important.  I do hope, if you decide to read the actual letter, that it will be of benefit to you or someone you know.  However, if you don’t feel that it would do either of those things, please feel no obligation to read it.  There is no reason to read something that could make you sad, just for sadness sake.  There’s already enough sadness in this world.

***End Author’s note***

Dear Zoe and Madeline,

There is so much I want to say to both of you, yet somehow it is still so hard to find the right words. I guess I’ll start at the very beginning, when we were told we could adopt you.  When I learned that you two were identical twins, I smiled. You see, I am blind, just like you Madeline.  I had always had this idea in the back of my mind that I would one day have identical twins and that they would mess with me as they grew up, making me guess who was who and just generally making my life crazy but silly.  It was so funny to me that this was actually going to happen.

We were excited and anxious to get you both home as fast as we could.  We were happy to start another adoption journey, and we couldn’t wait to meet you.  You see, it takes a long time to adopt, and there is so much to do, but none of that mattered.  All we knew, what kept us moving forward, was that we didn’t want you to be in that orphanage anymore.

Madeline, we wanted to help you learn to walk and speak and to show you that blindness doesn’t have to hold you back.  Zoe, you were going to be our first sighted child, and we were excited about that and maybe a little nervous too.  We couldn’t wait to see you discover the world, getting to literally see the amazing things around you, not to mention all the mischief you would get in to because of your sight.

You two deserved so much better than the orphanage life.  We couldn’t stand by and do nothing.  We wanted to be your family, regardless of any difficulties.  We wanted our son and daughter to know you as their sisters.  We wanted you to have the chance to experience so many things that we take for granted about childhood, like having a favorite toy, going to the playground, Thanksgiving, decorating the Christmas tree or experiencing grandma’s cooking for the first time.  We had so many plans and hopes for you.  We told so many friends and family about you.  Your sister was excited about sharing her room with you both and had already planned who would sleep where.  We had no idea what to expect but we knew we’d love you and we’d all figure out a new normal together.

But now, the government in your country has suddenly taken all that from us.  They say we’re not to be your family after all.  It feels like something has been ripped out of us.  We never met you in person but that doesn’t matter!  We saw pictures and videos and read about you and that was enough.  You were already our daughters; we were committed to you.  It’s so strange and feels so wrong that someone literally around the world, who has never met us, can just say no, that they don’t think we’re right for you and just uproot you from our lives.  It hurts.  We miss you and think about you so much.

Your daddy and I find ourselves thinking about things like how you would have gotten along with your sister and what adventures you would have had together.  I wonder how you would have tormented your brother.  Would you have learned an instrument or been an artist or played sports?  What foods would you have relished?  Who would you have grown up to be?  We’ll never get to know, and I just never saw that coming.

I think the hardest part is wondering who your new family is.  Who did the people in charge choose and why them over us?  Will you have siblings?  Where will you live?  What will your days look like?  Will you be safe?  I can’t know any of this. Even so, I am so happy that you will get out of the orphanage.  I’m so happy that you will have a family. I just wish it could have been us.

We are still planning to adopt, but we want you to know that we will never forget you.  We will always think of you, miss you and pray for you in your new lives.  You will always be our girls.  If our adoption journeys have taught us anything, it’s that you shouldn’t be afraid to give. Don’t be afraid to sacrifice for others, to truly give your best for them.  Please work hard, learn as much as you can and grow into beautiful, intelligent, kind and strong women.  Your mommy, daddy, brother, and sister love you both so much and are always praying for you and your new family. May they treasure you and teach you well.

Part Two: Things to Consider if pursuing an International Adoption

This is the second part of the post titled “Things to Consider if Pursuing an International Adoption.”  If you missed the first part, you can read it HERE. I'd like to share three more factors to be aware of when considering an international adoption; I hope they will be helpful to you.

1. Expect to be given little medical information about the child.

I am speaking here of simple medical information that we take for granted.  I can't count the number of times when taking Lexy or Jon to the doctor, how often we would be asked things like what medications they are allergic to, what their overall medical history is or their family medical history.  When we say that we do not know, due to their adoption circumstances, my favorite response is “well, didn't you ask those questions?”  We answer this by calmly explaining that yes, of course we asked, but we are given little information in general and there is questionable accuracy as to the few details we were given.

However, if you will allow me a moment of sarcasm, what I want to say is something like...  “Oh of course, how could we be so forgetful?  The mother who left our daughter at the hospital soon after she was born, invited us over for dinner before we left the country.  She gave us a detailed background on her medical history and that of extended family.  And as for our son, when they left him at the orphanage nine years ago, they wrote up a detailed report before they left.”  Thank you for indulging my sarcasm.  As you have gathered, these are the type of questions that you unfortunately rarely have the answers to.  Often the profiles you receive are vague regarding medical history and birth families, and what is written there may not even be accurate.  This conversation usually happens to us every time we take our kids to urgent care or to a specialist; we are met with perplexed looks or sometimes condescending glares.  Sadly, a lot of medical issues you have to find out on your own, once your child is home.  It can be a bit overwhelming at first, but finding a good primary care physician (which I am happy to say we finally have) can make a huge difference.

2. Jet lag is a force to be reckoned with but don't let it stop you from experiencing the country.

Seriously, jet lag is an insane entity all its own.  We had no idea what we were dealing with.  When we traveled to meet Lexy, for example, we were allowed to see her each morning through the early afternoon.  We would be dropped off at our hotel around 3 pm. And for the next 5 hours, everything we would do was designed to keep us awake.  All we wanted to do was sleep, but if we went to bed that early, it would be even more terrible.

So we walked around the town, stopped at shops and ate way too much incredible food.  I'm sorry America, but we just don't know how to make chocolate here.  My mouth is watering just thinking about that country's chocolate, not to mention cheese.  We thought though that as the week went on we would grow accustomed to the 9 hour time difference, no such luck.  As we flew back to the states at the end of the week, we had a long layover in Philadelphia. After killing time fruitlessly trying to find an authentic Philly cheese steak place in the airport; we just went and found a quiet corner to take a nap.  I used my purse as a pillow.  While under normal circumstances this might seem like a reasonable idea, these were hardly normal.  I was so unspeakably tired that I forgot the bag in question contained a large cheese that some friends had given us before we left the country.  I vaguely remember wondering as I dozed off why the bag was so soft and comfortable...  Needless to say, the cheese was rather misshapen when I awoke.  I had really been looking forward to eating it, not to mention sharing it with all my friends.  But as tired as we were, I am so glad we still made ourselves get out and see where we were.  I would encourage everyone to do the same and if you are traveling to a country in Europe, buy as much chocolate in local shops (not the airport) as you can carry.

3. According to the files and orphanage staff, every child is just perfect

Allow me to clarify here.  There seems to be a pattern, whether you are reading an adoption profile on a website or in the country speaking with the orphanage staff, that every child in question eats fine, sleeps perfectly throughout the night, never gets upset and is just a wonderful specimen of a human being.  We found this to be true with both Jon and Lexy's caretakers.  I imagine the main reason for this is the fear that if truthful, negative information is given, the couple will change their minds.  It makes me so sad every time. I wish they would believe us that we have no intention of backing out.  However, it really would be so helpful to know the true character or issues that our child might have. It could only help us be better parents.  Sadly, just like with the medical information mentioned above, you get the fun of discovering all your child's behaviors and issues firsthand.  But I suppose that is pretty typical of parenting; you don't get a detailed manual about the child before they are born either.

I hope that these lessons from our adoptions have been useful to you.  If you or someone you know is considering this, we would be more than happy to help however we can.

Our Adoption Stories Through Song

Music has always been a big part of our family.  I wish by that statement I meant that we all played instruments or sang beautiful four-part harmony together, but sadly neither is the case.  Although I think Jon has the potential to be the musical genius of the family.  But what I actually mean is that we all love listening to good music.  It is a part of our family culture and songs are tied to certain events in our lives.  This had been the case when Luke and I were dating and then in our early marriage, but when kids came into the picture, the influence of music and the meaning songs held for us only increased.  I thought I would share with all of you 4 songs that have specific ties to our adoption stories and continue to have a deep impact on myself and/or the whole family.  These songs are very personal to me, as you'll see if you decide to read on; I hope though that perhaps you may find the words to these songs comforting to you as well.  If these songs don't specifically affect you, find some that do. Music is one of the many beautiful gifts that God has graciously given us to enjoy.

Iona is a Christian Celtic-esque band that I have enjoyed since early college.  However, one of their songs took on a whole new meaning for me when we went to visit Lexy for the first time in September 2015.  We had spent a crazy, terrifying yet wonderful week with her, getting to know her and trying to comprehend what on earth parenting would mean for us.  Luke and I were dreading that last day when we would have to say goodbye to her for an undetermined amount of time.  You see, our case had to go through the courts of her home country and we also had to get Lexy's visa and other immigration documents together on the U.S. side.

We spent that last day at a park and then had a nice lunch nearby.  The social worker let us go back to the swings with Lexy for a few more minutes after we had finished up lunch.  I remember pushing her on the swing, fighting back tears, and suddenly that song came to mind.  I started singing it to her, even though she did not know English yet and had no clue what the words meant.  But somehow those words could not have been more poignant and meaningful to me at that moment.  It was so hard to leave her, wondering if she would even remember us and having no idea when she would get to come home, but we knew that God would take care of her.  He absolutely did and we were able to bring her home much faster than we expected! She was home eight days before Christmas.

Anyone who knows our family well won't be surprised by more than one Rich Mullins song making this list.  As we began the adoption process for Jon, we were so unsure about his condition.  We didn't know how mobile he would ever be or what other challenges we would face in raising him.  I had known about this song for a while, as I listen to Rich Mullins music quite a lot.  His music was always played around the house growing up and listening to it always makes me think of my home and parents in FL, among many other things.  It didn't take long for this song to come to mind, even well before Jon was home. We already knew that Jon was completely blind and had a mild form of CP that affects his legs and restricts his mobility. The image of God's mercy not only taking him by the hand and "leading" him but also being the "strength in his legs" could have been written specifically for Jon. The words are just so perfect for what we felt as we prepared for him to join our family.  As he continues to grow and learn, the lyrics are just as relevant.  They embody so perfectly what we hope for him, the person we pray we will grow to be.

This song carries for me both joy and sadness, hope and regret.  When we thought we were going to be adopting our twins, this song held so much meaning.  Now that they will be with another family, it still means a lot to us, but on an even deeper level.  When we had finally decided on their names, we immediately thought of this song for the girl we had called Madeline.  And it's not just because the title has her name in it.  The song is about a little girl who was sick from a premature birth and not supposed to live. From what little we knew about our Madeline's history, this was so similar to her.  We think of the song often and, in a way, it helps us grieve but also makes us smile.  I can only wonder, if we had gotten to know Zoe, what song we would have found for her.  I am very sure we would have, as it seems songs find our kids.  I just wish we could have had the opportunity.  We miss them both.

I've heard this song since college.  It depicts everyday common things in life but is also written very beautifully.  I think, as we wait with excitement to see what child or children will be joining our family and yet still grieve over those we have lost, the words of this song ring true.  I know that whatever changes are coming our way and whatever emotions and thoughts they bring, God is constant throughout it all.  I hope, as my kids grow up, they will come to love music as I do (although I am hoping they will have the discipline to learn and develop a talent, unlike their mother) and that I can teach them through beautiful music and poignant lyrics about God and His wondrous creation.

Things to Consider If Pursuing an International Adoption

There are so many things to consider when beginning the international adoption journey. I think even making the decision itself to start researching can be an effort and already feel like quite a feat. Since we are on our third international adoption, I thought I would share three points that I hope will be helpful to anyone considering this amazing and terrifying undertaking. There will be more of these types of posts to come, but I was very sure all of you would not want to read all 10 or so of my considerations all at once.

1- Seek out any friends (or even friends of friends) who would be willing to talk with you about their experiences.

When Luke and I finally after months of paperwork, worrying over funding and feeling like the call would never come, were at last given our travel dates to go meet Lexy. We were ecstatic and also frightened out of our minds. We had absolutely no idea even remotely what to expect. We felt like we had just made it out of a huge pit, only to be now thrown into another, even deeper one. By God's providence, we were connected with a family (friend of a friend type situation) who had recently adopted their first son from the same country. Nicole and Jeremy are now some of our dearest friends and they are in the process of adopting their fourth child.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. So, we were put in touch with this family we had never met who had previously adopted from the same nation where Luke and I would soon be traveling. I hesitantly called Nicole, honestly not sure how awkward or short this conversation was going to be. Nicole was nothing but gracious and forthcoming, and we soon were having dinner with them. She is an amazing cook, so the food was great, but what was more important was the conversation. It helped more than I can even express to be able to talk with someone who had been to the country and could give us a basic idea of what to expect. Perhaps even more important than the practical, logistical points was that they were willing to share how they felt and thought as they met and then later brought their son home. It helped us later, as we struggled with similar fears and feelings. It made the pit seem much less deep. There are also many forums and email lists out there dealing with international adoption. While interpersonal connections I think are overall better, sometimes it just isn't possible. The internet is an amazing tool, so make good use of it. Don't be afraid to ask all your questions, even the ones you think are silly or embarrassing. Learn all you can from others.

2- Take the time to research country requirements.

I do not say this as a hard and fast rule, but I think it may save you heartache or unexpected frustration in the long run. The requirements of countries can vary significantly, and there are many factors to take into account. Here are just a few:

1. income/assets required
2. length of time in the country
3. allowed ages of adoptive parents
4. number of trips required
5. whether the adoption is finalized in the country or has to be finished in the US courts
6. the types of medical evaluations needed
7. length of marriage of adoptive parents

Another difference that up until recently we were not aware of, is that some countries release their child profiles to multiple adoption agencies at once. This means that, if you were in the process of working to adopt a specific child from one of these countries with agency X, another family, using agency Y, may be farther along in the process without you or your agency even knowing it. The family that is ahead in the process may then be given full access to that child's file which would halt your effort for your desired child. An important question you might want to ask when looking into adopting from a country is “at what point in the process will the child’s file be held exclusively for my family?” In some countries that is much later in the process than in others. Now, please hear me, I am not saying to avoid these countries altogether and therefore those children. I am simply saying to be aware of this possibility in advance so that you are not blindsided if it happens.

Another important item to be aware of is which countries are under the Hague convention. Basically, countries under the Hague convention have signed agreements setting standards in international adoptions. This essentially means that the chances of corruption or unfair dealings are reduced. Also, it is important to keep in mind that some adoption grants will only allow one to apply if the adoption is being done through a Hague country. Again, those children in nonHague countries deserve permanent and loving families and should not be avoided just because of where they happen to reside. However, it is worth knowing this information up front, again so that you will not be shocked if things do become more difficult.

3- Seek out agency recommendations from those who have adopted.

The agency you will end up working with will be a huge part of your life for many months. It is a good idea to hear feedback from others on what they liked or didn't like about the specific agency they went through. Of course, your agency choice may be limited by what country you are adopting from, but it is still a good idea to hear what others have to say in this matter. For our part, we especially recommend Children’s Hope International; we can, of course, only speak for one of their country programs, but we have consistently found their staff to be professional, helpful, and thorough. They can often and easily be reached by phone, which is helpful for unexpected questions and just overall peace of mind, especially if it is your first adoption.

I hope, if you are considering international adoption, I hope you found this helpful. If you know anyone who is interested in the process, please feel free to pass this along. As I said above, this is only the first installment, so keep an eye out for the others on this topic in the weeks ahead!

An Unexpected Turn: Grief and the Adoption Process

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.

One Year Home: Jon's Story

At the airport the day we brought Jon homse

Today is a special day for our family.  This day is Jon's homecoming anniversary; he has been with us for one whole year.  At this time last year, he had just gotten home and we were all tired, nervous, and were wondering what the days ahead would bring.  It is hard to believe. In some ways, it has flown by, while in others it doesn't feel like it could have been this long already.  Let me be a proud mom and tell you about him for a moment.

Jonathan (Jon) is 9 and has a gift for music.  He loves his piano lessons and talks glowingly of Miss Laura, his teacher.  He has an ear for harmonies and possesses literal perfect pitch.  We can play any note on his piano and he can quickly and confidently tell you what note it is and if it is flat or sharp.  This talent extends beyond instruments; he can tell you what note a car horn or doorbell is.  He particularly loves acapella music and at times will literally appear entranced by it, sitting perfectly still and just listening intently. 

When Jon laughs, it is a full, loud belly laugh.  He is timid and prefers what is routine and familiar but is gradually learning to embrace and enjoy new activities.  He loves to socialize with people and tries hard to engage in conversations and, in this way, shows much bravery, as he has only been in this country for such a short time.  He loves to eat and particularly enjoys burgers, fries, and chicken bacon pizza from Dominoes.  He has a fascination with babies (real ones, not dolls) and loves to hover around new mothers, often asking random questions about the baby and hoping for a chance to see them.

He is doing well in school; he can read sentences in print, is grasping basic math concepts, is understanding the difference between nouns and verbs and is showing quite a knack for learning braille.  When he reads a sentence, there is excitement in his voice as he tracks with the thought or concept that he has just read. Physically, he's still a little wobbly and uncertain of his legs, but he is overcoming in so many ways!

Jon is a member of the Roma people group, an Asian people who came to Europe from India in the 14^th century.  The Roma are often mistrusted and disliked by much of the world, especially throughout Europe, and were even targeted as undesirables during the Holocaust.  Both Lexy and Jon love each other and love being siblings. There are times when I watch them playing together and would never guess that they have only known each other for such a short time.  This is an awesome thing, made more so by the fact that Jon is Roma and Lexy is of native European ethnicity.  These two groups have not had a good history, yet through adoption, they have become family without malice.  It is a beautiful picture of love and family, where ethnic tensions have no place.  In fact, it is a wonderful example of what the gospel of Christ should look like in all our lives.  

Now that you know a bit about my son, let me step back and tell you what he was like and what his life consisted of before he came home to join our family.  We know that Jon moved around to multiple orphanages, some of which were not well spoken of, although no specifics were ever given to us.  He spent his whole life, before coming to America, in various institutions.  There is speculation that he was visited by his mother for a time, but we have no proof of this.  We are unclear if he was ever given any formal education.  He could not stand or walk unsupported, even though (after diagnosis by doctors here) his legs and hips were capable of these activities.  He was discouraged from using his left hand and arm, as the left side of his body was perceived, rightly or wrongly, to be weaker.  His cerebral palsy was assumed to be more severe and, to an underpaid and overworked orphanage staff, it was easier to have him sit on a couch by a radio while they attended to the harder, more mobile children.  If our times visiting him during meals are any indication, all he generally ate was soup and small pieces of bread and an occasional piece of candy.  His skin was blotchy and rough in many places.  He seemed never to have brushed his teeth or taken a full-on bath before coming to America, at least based on his first reactions to both activities.  He now loves bath time, by the way.  He weighed 48 pounds when he came home at eight years old.  No one took an interest in his posture; he was often, when we visited him, hunched over with his chin literally on his chest and his whole body had a general left lean to it.

Jon during our first visit

Why am I telling you this? It is not because I am wanting to show what a great family we are and how far we have taken this poor boy.  On the contrary, he teaches me so much every day. Nor do I wish to disparage the orphanage or the staff that cared for him before he came to be with us. We are thankful for the care they were able to give him. Instead, I am telling all of this in hopes of showing the impact a stable, loving, structured family and home life can have on a child.  It is not easy by any means and some days are better than others.  Children need family and structure, and I hope this comparison of my son's former and latter life proves that.  We are far from a perfect example, and yet even in our home, a child like Jon has been able to thrive and grow in astonishing ways!

Consider if you, as a foster parent or through adoption, could provide this change of life for a child.  It will be at times a painful sacrifice on your part, but these children are worth a little discomfort.  I can't help but wonder where Jon will be in another year from now or, for that matter, five.  I will admit, sometimes I find myself wondering how far we would be if we had been able to adopt him earlier.  But going down that road never accomplishes anything.  I am thankful that he is with us now and for all the progress he has and is making.  I look forward to my post about his two years home. :)