Our adoption puzzle at 46.7% |
There isn't a good
way to give an introduction to this, in part because there was no
introduction for us! It was just dumped on our laps, and
just as unceremoniously removed from our laps.
The day before
we left for our first camp of the summer, I received a call from my
cousin in Pennsylvania. In a nutshell, there was a friend of a
friend that was going to give birth to a baby boy in September, and
she wanted to know if Philip and I wanted the baby? She knew we were
waiting to adopt a boy, and this was a crisis pregnancy and they were
hoping for a good, solid Christian family in which to place the baby.
Uh, right. Wow. How many days do you get a call along the lines of
“in 9 weeks you can choose to have your life permanently changed
for forever.”? Like, never. But it happened. We were completely
floored. There wasn't much I could say except that we'd pray about
it.
There were SO MANY
emotions rolling through my brain. Actually, so many conflicting
emotions that they kinda canceled each other out and I felt a little
numb. On one hand, there is nothing
that has prepared me for a newborn, white, American baby. Nothing.
Everything we'd imagined was an older, un-white, international child.
On the other hand, my husband and I have always said that the only
way we would adopt an infant (at this point in our lives) is if it
was a crisis pregnancy, and we were specifically asked to have the
baby placed with us. Well, here it was: a crisis pregnancy where we
were asked to parent this baby.
Both
Philip and I were confident that this was not
a substitute for our Ethiopian adoption. We would not go back on
something that we had previously committed to and been called to, but
was there a chance that this could be an “in the meantime” thing?
Prayer.
Much prayer. Thought, council, and more prayer. We have always
been of the persuasion that God directs when we are moving in a
direction, not just sitting on our hands. God has the power to close
doors and open them. We asked for His obvious leading. We felt as
if we should at least move forward with the idea, trusting that if
this was God's plan for us, He would put every
piece into place for us. If it was not God's plan, He would
completely shut the door so clearly that it was unmistakable.
In
the time of uncertainty, I went about my day evaluating every aspect:
could I do this activity with a newborn in tow? What would I need to
change? Nap times, play mats, jogging strollers, car seats,
babysitters, diapers, formula, etc. My girlfriend in New York got bombarded by tons of "newborn" questions. I'm thankful for her patience!
Sometimes
I felt rather excited about the impending adventure. Other times I
felt overwhelmed. It was a decision that felt VERY out of my
league, and I certainly did not want to push for something that
Philip wasn't on board with. A huge part of my prayer had been that
God would lead through my husband. I trust God, and I trust my
husband's judgment.
Baby.
Infant. Domestic adoption. Not my first choice to start a family.
I struggled a fair amount and held it before the Throne constantly.
In a prayer to God, I tried to tell Him that I honestly didn't want
the baby. But.... He wouldn't let me even voice that. Truth
came crashing down on my shoulders: this baby was
precious in God's sight. Unplanned and unwanted by his birth family,
this baby was still a gift from his Maker. He was beloved and
valuable. I cannot say that I don't want something that God has
deemed so precious. I just can't. Seeing that child through God's
eyes completely changed my perspective. This baby was a gift. No,
not my first choice for a family, however, all of a sudden, I did
want that baby. I
would care for, love, and raise that child, and take joy in the fact
that he was a good gift from God.
Philip
and I began to make calls to our Ethiopian adoption agency. They
said “yes”. They offered to write a domestic homestudy for us at
a low price. We got a referral for a local adoption lawyer and spoke
with him. It was a positive conversation. The costs were relatively
low compared to the adoption we're currently pursuing. We asked for
council from several trusted friends. They were
unanimously in favor. All the pieces were falling into place. All
of them. It was so uncanny it was scary.
Hadson and Philip in Brazil, 2008 |
As many times as I have heard sermons and
talks on the preciousness of a child, I never thought about it in
such a relevant context before. I doubt we'll ever get a chance to
meet that little boy, but he certainly is not far from my thoughts,
and those thoughts touch a tender place in me. It was also a
realization about how much my husband wants a family. I was let down
and disappointed and kinda sad, but Philip was much more so than I
was. He so looks forward to having kiddos of his own!
This
is the second time God has placed an almost-within-reach child in our
lives that has changed the way we think. In 2008, God led us to
pursue Hadson's adoption in Brazil, and then closed the door in a
similar fashion to this baby.
The 50 puzzle pieces sponsored by the camp kids! |
Me with some of the girls in my cabin |
Wow, amazing story, my mommy heart aches with yours. We had a similar experience. Eric didn't feel right about asking somebody for their child and he said that the only way he would consider an adoption was if Addy's birth mom asked us to care for her and if she agreed that it would be permanent--an adoption and not a custody thing. It was uncanny also and totally a God thing how He worked it all out, and is still working it out.
ReplyDeleteSitting here reading your story, it seems from my perspective that perhaps one reason for all of this is that the Lord was preparing your heart, testing perhaps (almost like Abraham when he was asked to sacrifice Isaac) to enlarge your already big compassion for children--I hope I'm making sense. And to show you that the thing you may "fear" or have reservations about (mothering an infant), is the very thing that the Lord wants to have laid at his feet and surrendered to Him. It seems to me you did that, even though it was painful. And from where I'm sitting its a beautiful thing. <3