Late last week, Dan and I inquired about a baby girl in China who's waiting for a family. We got her file on Friday and sat down last night to pray over her, about whether she's our girl, about the timing and where the money's going to come from. When we concluded, we still weren't sure about anything, but we had one question we needed answered.
I emailed our social worker this morning about our question; in her reply, in addition to telling me they would inquire, she also told me another family is seriously considering baby girl. I sat down at my dining room table and sobbed uncontrollably into my hands.
After I calmed myself, I began contemplating why I was so upset. Unlike with Michael, I'm not sure that this baby girl is my baby girl. She seems like a great fit for us, but there are several others that could be too. As well, choosing a child this early isn't how we planned things to go.
Then it hit me. I'm not upset at the possibility of her being matched with another family, I'm still grieving.
We were approved four years ago this month for our first adoption -- domestic infant. Just a mere two weeks after we were approved, we got a call from our social worker saying someone had gotten our names and knew we hoped to adopt. She had just given birth and would like to place her baby with us. We raced to our agency, signed paperwork, got everything sent to the birth mother's attorney and we never heard another word. Over the course of the next 10 months, we asked to be considered for another 15 children; we have no idea how many times we were presented outside of these requests.
At one point, about eight months into our wait, we got a call from our social worker, two days before we were supposed to be leaving the country, asking "There's an expectant mother who wants to meet you and another couple. Can you go tomorrow?" We made the eight hour roundtrip drive to her hometown and met her, her daughter and mother in a study room at a library. Things were a bit awkward, but they went well. I felt like she liked our answers to her questions and that we could have a great long-term relationship. However, before leaving for the airport the next day we got the news she'd chosen the other couple. I understood, but I was devastated. Over the next few months there were more children we asked to be considered for and again, we were rejected over and over.
I don't want you to misunderstand -- I don't begrudge an expectant mother or birth mother's decision to choose another family or to parent her child herself. I believe anyone who wants to parent their child should be given every opportunity to do so and it is HER right to choose who will take over that role if she's unable to.
At the same time, though, I grieve for myself. I grieve the loss of ease of growing my family. I grieve that every time we want to add to our family I have to fight like hell. I grieve that I've struggled to be happy for friends and family when they conceive. I grieve from being continually rejected. I grieve for my sons' birth mothers who I know continue to grieve heavily for their loss too. I grieve for my baby girl, whoever she is, who is sitting in an orphanage in China right now, growing up without her mama, daddy and big brothers.
Until today, it had been years since I'd this feeling of despair, but when it welled up I realize it is still there, not so far beyond the surface. I don't know if my heart will ever fully heal, but tonight I am finding comfort in these words:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18
My sweet friends, those of you grieving infertility, chronic miscarriages, broken dreams of marriage and children, those of you are birth mothers who have placed children for adoption, those of you who are mothers in your heart but do not yet have babies in your arms, those of you grieving your children taken from this earth too soon, I pray these words over you tonight too; The Lord saves those who are crushed in spirit.
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