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Searing Loss

It all started in the car. Georgia was chattering away as the trees whizzed past outside. “I spy with my yittle brown eye…a shoe!” Yes, she does not quite have the art of it down but loves to say that over and over. Next, Parker piped up, “Mama, if I was born in your tummy, why are my eyes a different color?”

Me: “You did grow in my tummy, and your eyes are a mixture of Daddy and Mama and your eyes are bluish green, a little of both of us…”

Parker: “Georgia and Ravenna have brown eyes. Don’t they, Mama?”

Me: “Yes, just like their birth mamas and daddies, beautiful deep brown eyes.”

Parker: “But, you are their real Mama, right?”

Me: “You bet I am, forever and ever!”

There was a pause and then from the back of the car, eyes filled with tears.

Ravenna said, “My birthmom is my real Mama.”

Me (deep breath and praying for wisdom): “You are right both of us are very real.”

Ravenna: “But, my birthmom is my REAL mom…you are just my new mom.”

Again with the deep breathing…

Me: “Honey, I love you so much, and your birthmom and I are both a part of your story, and you get to choose what you call us. I’m happy to be your new mom. You are such a gift in my life.”

Then, up pops Georgia, “I spy with my yittle brown eye…my shirt!” and soon all three were playing eye spy and giggling. But, for the rest of the day, she called me “Mother” instead of Mama. It took everything in me to not start up the conversation again, to defend myself, to explain why I should be her real mama…but, truthfully, I am her mama but so is her birthmom, both intertwined, both just as important, and I don’t get to choose. It is important that I do not choose, but that I walk alongside and allow her to go where she needs to go. I love her more than I need to be first in her life…but that doesn’t mean that it is not hard.

Later that night, tucking her under all the pink softness of her blankies I saw deep pools of grief in her eyes.

Ravenna: “Mama…will I ever see her?”

Me (also in tears): “With all my heart I hope so.”

For awhile she just rested her head on my chest and let the tears fall then…

Ravenna: “Mama, is she safe?”

Me: “I know that we can pray for her safety, and God is with her just like he was with you while you waited for us to come.”

Ravenna: “What did you pray for?” (through deep sobs)

Me: “I would go in your room and pray every day, holding your stuffed animals and praying that God would hold you in safe arms, that He would whisper in your ears that you were loved and that you were so precious and wanted, that He would make the time go quickly until we could be together…”

Then she rolled onto my chest, wrapped her legs around me and bawled and bawled, hot tears soaking my clothes.

“I just want to see her…I want my birthmama…I want my birthmama…I want my birthmama.”

Until she just lay there cuddled as close as she could possibly get, laying curled on every inch of me, my lips pressed into her silken dark hair…silently praying and whispering how very much I love her, how beyond precious she is to me…how I will love her forever. All the while, Georgia, on the other bed is saying, “Nenna and Mama stick together like paper and glue, like paper and glue Nenna Mama always!”….and finally she let go and curled up to be tucked in and whispered, “I love you” as I gave her one final kiss.

And then, I curled up in Doug’s arms and wept, sort of because it hurt to be the “new” mama but mainly for the hurt in my little girl, for the searing pain that I cannot take away, for the fact that she is 7 and should have no deeper care than what kind of ice cream to get or what playground to play at. Because I would give anything to meet her birthmom too. Because I cannot promise that we will ever find her, I cannot promise that the pain will ever go away…because I just love her so much. My tender, deep, searching little girl.

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted

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In Their Parents Image…or Not

My husband and I teach Sunday school for first and second graders at our church. Until recently, our daughter was in the kindergarten room which uses the same lesson as our group. Earlier this summer, we were teaching the kids about people being made in the image of God. The lesson included this discussion question:

My husband and I talked about our dislike of this question, given that both of our children are adopted. We debated whether or not to mention our concern to the children

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Wondering

I pray for you often. I wonder when I walk the streets if you are the one. Are you the one I sat by at lunch today or passed at the market? I wonder if you are the shadow outside my window peeking in or the noise I hear in the bushes at night? I wonder if I haven

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In Love With Adoption

Had one of those sweet conversations with my boys last night. The kind that make you all warm and fuzzy about being a parent. It was bed time and I was impatiently telling them to turn off the light, stop talking, get under the covers, no more drinks, when Keaton asked me a question. Now, he very well could have been stalling; it worked.

He said, “Mom which one of us kids do you like the best. I know you love us all, but which one do you like?” I very much wanted to say I like you all the exact same now go to sleep so I could run into my own bed and start reading my book or flip on the TV. But, I decided to take a deep breath and explore what he was really asking me. So, I told the boys that I have so many things I like about each of them, but I would share one thing about each of them tonight. And, we began. And, in case I don’t tell them enough I will put them here in cyber-print…

Keaton, one thing I love about you is that you were my first child. You taught me how to love like a Mommy.

Kayden, one thing I love about you is that I see so much of your father in you and it reminds me why I love him so much.

Laney, one thing I love about you is you were my first daughter and have been so fun, girly, and full of life.

And, Macy…

Keaton interrupted me and said, “I know what it is you love about Macy, Mom. You love that she is adopted. Right?”

My instinct was to jump on that and say I would love Macy if she wasn’t adopted, and I don’t love her differently than you because she is adopted, and you are no less special to me because you aren’t adopted, and ask them do you love Macy any differently than your other siblings? and so on…But again, I was still and listened.

He went on, “because you are in love with adoption, Mom, and you have been ever since we brought Macy home.” Kayden jumped in and said, “because we are all adopted Mom if we choose to love God.”

And, there it was. They said these things with such admiration and clarity that I was humbled. I hadn’t signed them up for an Adoption 101 class, hadn’t made them read a book about it or write a paper, or even made them sit down and talk to me. God was revealing Himself to my boys through me. Through my love for adoption. I was about as giddy as a mommy can be.

And the truth is I am in love with adoption. Sure, I love what it brought to our family in Macy. Sure I go crazy about orphans and figuring out what I can do to help God set them in families. But more than that, I love what adoption has taught me about God. I don’t know anyone else’s story, just my own, so I can only speak for myself. My adoption story isn’t about becoming a mommy to Macy. That was a miracle and a gift, but my adoption story is that God used this time in my life to draw me to Himself. My adoption story included a loss of one of those gifts. A death. And that makes it all the more life changing for me. Because in Gaby’s death, Macy’s twin sister, not the concept of it, but her literal physical death, those last 20 minutes with her on this earth, I experienced the physical presence of God in a way that I have never before in life. I felt the eternal. And, I am forever changed.

This year, I have moved from being a lifelong Christian who God blessed through normal life. I was all high and mighty about my faith and that it could never be rocked no matter what. When in all reality, He had never let anything come into my life to test that. Now, I am someone who saw and experienced pain and hurt that I believe God could have prevented and stopped but chose not to. And, I am okay. I love Him. I believe in Him. I trust Him. And, I still believe that He couldn’t take or do anything that would change my faith in Him. The ONLY way that I can say those things is through His strength and power.

Praise the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! Through Christ, God has blessed us with every spiritual blessing that heaven has to offer. Before the creation of the world, he chose us through Christ to be holy and perfect in his presence. Because of his love he had already decided to adopt us through Jesus Christ. He freely chose to do this so that the kindness he had given us in his dear Son would be praised and given glory. Ephesians 1:3-6

Macy, one thing I love about you is that you were my first glimpse into the miracle of adoption.

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Shelley Brown

Shelley has been married to her best friend, Gabe, for 11 years. They have 5 children–3 the old-fashioned way: Keaton (9), Kayden (6), and Laney (4). Their family adopted twin girls, Macy (1) and Gaby in 2010. After fighting for 7 months with Hypoplastic Right Heart Syndrome, Gaby is now in heaven with Jesus. Shelley is a preschool director of a Christian school part-time and Gabe works for a Christian insurance company providing insurance for Missions trips. Their family enjoys the adventure God has them on and is always looking to follow Him and give Him glory in all things. Check out their family blog.

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Hearts Connected

As we walked along the paths to the play yard, in search of our daughter, it was never far from our minds that this was our last day with her. Her groupa was already headed outside, but once we caught up with them and called her name, a moment unfolded that I hope to never forget.

We called her name, she turned, spotted us and her face lit up like the sun itself. Her whole entire countenance changed as she began running toward us. As soon as I saw her face shining, I got down on her level and received her into my embrace. My heart was full.

Our play time together was just like any other day, but we were treasuring every moment. I felt like Mary in Luke 2:19:

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.

As we played, it was clear she had learned over the days to anticipate our every move. She would get to the top of the slide and wait, slightly lifting her arms, expecting one of us to come up behind her, slipping our arms under hers, enfold her into our embrace, count to three in Russian and then slide down in glee.

When we would begin to climb the stairs, one of her hands used the rail, the other stuck out in anticipation of the filling with our bigger, stronger one to help her up.

She would sit on the swing sideways and quietly listened as I told her of her new family and sung to her. Sometimes she

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A Review and Giveaway: Secret Daughter

I have some friends I’d like you to meet – Kavita, Jasu, Somer, Krishnan, and Asha. I met them here at the beach on vacation; I’ve only known them for a few days. As much as I’d like to speak to them and allow you to do the same, we can’t; they are alive only in a well painted portrait of words. But, they’ve spoken to me.

There aren’t many books in which I find myself drawn in some way to all the characters. Maybe one or two resonate with me, not all. Shilpi Somaya Gowda’s

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Part 3 of 3: I Refuse

Through this season of prayer and seeking God through His Word, Scott and I had become convinced that indeed God was leading us to begin the process to adopt a little girl from China with “special needs.” It was all so different than the process we went through to adopt Beniam from Ethiopia. This time, we were looking at photos of waiting children and asking God to show us which one we should adopt. It felt so strange to make this choice and often we felt paralyzed and unsure of where to go from here.

We spent hours looking and reading and praying. Sometimes I wondered if we were taking too long. But now, I can look back and see what God was doing in that time. Every child we looked at I wondered, “Could this be our child?” So with every child, my heart was opened to see them as a son or daughter, not just a picture or a statistic of yet another orphan who I could not help. With each passing week, I became more willing to say “Whatever, Lord. Whatever you want. I just want to love one of these precious children.” And following this season of searching, my heart has broken more and more for children waiting for a family. Their faces are etched in my mind, and I am totally confident that God will use these things that have happened in my heart for further use down the road.

Then one day, I think we were just ready. And, we saw this picture of Mei and Scott said, “That’s her.” We did not know much about her at all, and her special need was one we had not considered before. That night we put her file on hold in order to have it reviewed by an international pediatrician who could tell us more. When I was getting ready to go to sleep that night, I began to think more about little Mei’s “special need,” and I thought maybe this wasn’t something I was comfortable with after all. I just let my mind focus on her medical records and lost sight of some other things. My heart was heavy, and I was worn out. I sighed and rolled over to turn on the alarm for tomorrow. As I did this, I whispered out loud a quick prayer, “What do you think, Lord? Please speak to me.” (Thinking that I was checking out for the night, and the prayer could maybe be answered tomorrow) I pushed the button to check the volume on the radio, and these were the exact words I heard:

He cries in the corner where nobody sees
He

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Part 2 of 3: Everything in Here is Crazy

Scott did not freak out. I decided to tell him on our car ride to see family over the weekend since the kids would be engrossed in their books or DVDs. And, he didn’t freak out. His attitude was that if God is calling us to this, then He would make that clear and take care of everything. I was so sure he would freak out that it freaked me out that he didn’t freak out. I handled it all very maturely by telling him he was crazy and climbing into the back seat to hang out with slightly more sane people. At which point, I kid you not, Scott calls out, “Hey kids, you wanna adopt a sister into our family?” This was met with a rousing cheer from the back.

Now, I was really mad! This is not how we normally handle family decisions!

But, I was beginning to get excited too.

After talking about it some more, I agreed to find out more about “Mandy” acknowledging that God was probably calling us to be an advocate for her and help her find a family. When I inquired, we found that Mandy had found her family.

But, we both knew that God was doing something in our family, so we began to pray and read scripture, seeking His will. My heart began to be softened and eager to follow wherever God was leading us. But, I was still scared. At first, all I could see was my own weaknesses, limitations, and inabilities. But, day after day of drawing near to God, I found that I was seeing things more from his perspective. And, everything changed.

And I do mean everything. Not just my desire to follow his will no matter what. But the way I looked at my day and my kids and my house and my husband. The further we went on this journey, the more I was throwing off all these things that had hindered me from stepping out in the first place. Worry. Fear. Selfishness. Doubt. Discontentment with what I’ve been given or how my day goes. All of a sudden things that used to seem such a big deal- a missed nap, a temper tantrum, the flu, potty training, a migraine… they were all things that I could laugh in the midst of. Because, slowly, I was seeing it all through a different lens.

And that lens was Truth. It was the Word that I said I believed and loved but now I would have to live. It was the God I said I trusted but never had I been asked to trust so much. And, He was so very patient with me in my doubt. So very gracious to continue to meet me when I asked for Him to show me the way.

I remember specifically one night when I was focusing my thoughts on what others would think of our decision to adopt a child with “special needs.” I was holding my Bible open again.

“God, this is crazy. Seriously. This is crazy.”

And just as clear as day, this is what came to my mind . . . a patient, gentle voice, but firm . . .

“Haley, everything in here is crazy.”

And, I looked back down at the Bible and thought, “Did I hear that right?” So I began to think through all the stories of the Bible I could think of. And it is true. From a human perspective, everything in there is crazy. Everything.

It was a significant moment for me. Because I knew that I believed it all and God had confirmed it over and over again in my life. So if what was Good and True and Love and the Way of Jesus were crazy in the eyes of man, well then, call me crazy.

Part 3 to follow…

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Haley Long

I am a recipient of amazing grace. I’ve been married 11 years to my husband, Scott. We had 2 children, Isaac and Zoe. Then one day God met us both in the same moment and broke our hearts and filled them with love for orphan children. In 2008, we brought our son Beniam, now 3, home from Ethiopia. We are currently in the process to adopt a little girl named Mei from China. I am a Florida girl who loves sunshine, water, and sand. I enjoy almost anything you can do outdoors, especially in the mountains. When forced to stay inside, I love to read and write.

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Part 1 of 3: Not On Our Radar

Adopting Mei was not our idea. We both knew that we wanted to adopt again and had our ideas of what that would look like. We would adopt a girl, maybe about 4 years old from Ethiopia or domestically, and we would wait until Beniam was in kindergarten. Because God knows we have our hands full right now. I mean, if everyone who sees me in the grocery store with all three kids remarks that I have my hands full, surely God knows, too. That is what I thought. Because that is how I looked at it then.

But, then one night, I was looking at this girl staring back at me on a computer screen. She was a “waiting child” from China. I had not intended to see her. (It is easier if you do not see.) I was innocently checking a blog to see an update on a friend’s new daughter from China. I did not know that she primarily uses her blog to advocate for waiting children in China.

So there I sat, looking at