I was sitting in one of the rocking chairs on our front porch yesterday, enjoying the breeze, reading the “Twilight” series for the second time, and doing some thinking.
It’s very rare that I revisit our past failed adoption experiences. I think that’s the only way I can keep moving forward in this journey. Experience the pain, tuck it away, and go on. But for some reason yesterday, my mind and heart wanted to take a look back.
In the last eight months, we have said “yes” to eight children. Eight opportunities to have a child to love and call our own. Yet we have no child to love and call our own.
There was an adoptive situation back in the winter that I never wrote about.
There was the birth mom who found her way to us through a friend of a friend, who said she wanted us to raise her child, and who changed her mind about giving the child up for adoption days before the baby was born.
There was Smiley who was available for adoption through the foster system. We got a call from the adoption worker the week before the placement meeting telling us that someone with a biological connection had come out of the woodwork and wanted to adopt him. The placement meeting went on and none of the participants had even one concern about placing him with us. They whole-heartedly agreed that he’d be loved and well taken care of in our home. Yet we didn’t get the opportunity to be his parents.
Then there was Mark, who we loved so much. The time we had with him was some of the best of our lives. I decorated his room. D got him a sandbox and put up a swing. I read him bedtime stories and decorated cookies with him. He and D drew chalk pictures on the front sidewalk and watched a ridiculous number of Diego episodes. Mark had us (and our hearts) quite squarely in the palm of his hand and three days before he was to move in, we had to walk away from him because of someone else’s evil choices.
There were also the two babies we said “yes” to fostering. We got the call and I went racing to Wal*mart and spent $300 on things we’d need – things they’d love. I'd barely gotten the car unloaded when the phone rang with our worker telling us that the babies weren’t going to be available.
And finally there is the situation with Amy. At one time or another, she has mentioned us raising all three of her children. It remains to be seen what will happen with the unborn baby, of course, but I have very little confidence that she will follow through on placing him/her with us. The one that is really killing us is Chris. What once looked like a sure thing now seems to be falling apart day by day. Amy wants us to have him, but apparently DF^CS no longer cares what she wants.
There was absolutely nothing we could do to make any of these situations turn out differently. Not one of the outcomes had anything to do with us or our merit as parents (other than our choice to walk away from Mark, and even our SW said there was nothing else we could have done). It just seems that in each case, fate or God intervened and things promptly and spectacularly went off the rails, in ways that have surprised even our very experienced SW. And she doesn’t know the half of it.
I have to ask myself WHY. Why have each of these situations come into our lives, raised our hopes, fallen apart, and left us devastated time after time after time?
We didn’t seek out any of these situations. Not a single one of them. Each one was brought to us. For what reason? ***
It’s very rare that I revisit our past failed adoption experiences. I think that’s the only way I can keep moving forward in this journey. Experience the pain, tuck it away, and go on. But for some reason yesterday, my mind and heart wanted to take a look back.
In the last eight months, we have said “yes” to eight children. Eight opportunities to have a child to love and call our own. Yet we have no child to love and call our own.
There was an adoptive situation back in the winter that I never wrote about.
There was the birth mom who found her way to us through a friend of a friend, who said she wanted us to raise her child, and who changed her mind about giving the child up for adoption days before the baby was born.
There was Smiley who was available for adoption through the foster system. We got a call from the adoption worker the week before the placement meeting telling us that someone with a biological connection had come out of the woodwork and wanted to adopt him. The placement meeting went on and none of the participants had even one concern about placing him with us. They whole-heartedly agreed that he’d be loved and well taken care of in our home. Yet we didn’t get the opportunity to be his parents.
Then there was Mark, who we loved so much. The time we had with him was some of the best of our lives. I decorated his room. D got him a sandbox and put up a swing. I read him bedtime stories and decorated cookies with him. He and D drew chalk pictures on the front sidewalk and watched a ridiculous number of Diego episodes. Mark had us (and our hearts) quite squarely in the palm of his hand and three days before he was to move in, we had to walk away from him because of someone else’s evil choices.
There were also the two babies we said “yes” to fostering. We got the call and I went racing to Wal*mart and spent $300 on things we’d need – things they’d love. I'd barely gotten the car unloaded when the phone rang with our worker telling us that the babies weren’t going to be available.
And finally there is the situation with Amy. At one time or another, she has mentioned us raising all three of her children. It remains to be seen what will happen with the unborn baby, of course, but I have very little confidence that she will follow through on placing him/her with us. The one that is really killing us is Chris. What once looked like a sure thing now seems to be falling apart day by day. Amy wants us to have him, but apparently DF^CS no longer cares what she wants.
There was absolutely nothing we could do to make any of these situations turn out differently. Not one of the outcomes had anything to do with us or our merit as parents (other than our choice to walk away from Mark, and even our SW said there was nothing else we could have done). It just seems that in each case, fate or God intervened and things promptly and spectacularly went off the rails, in ways that have surprised even our very experienced SW. And she doesn’t know the half of it.
I have to ask myself WHY. Why have each of these situations come into our lives, raised our hopes, fallen apart, and left us devastated time after time after time?
We didn’t seek out any of these situations. Not a single one of them. Each one was brought to us. For what reason? ***
If I’m being honest, when I look back at all the pain – all the unnecessary pain we’ve been put through just in the last eight months, it’s very difficult not to be angry. It very much feels like we are simply being toyed with.
IF WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PARENTS, THEN PLEASE LET SOMETHING GO OUR WAY. JUST ONCE. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?
IF WE AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE PARENTS, THEN JUST TELL ME! JUST TELL ME AND WE’LL FORGET ABOUT IT AND GET ON WITH OUR LIVES.
IF WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PARENTS, THEN PLEASE LET SOMETHING GO OUR WAY. JUST ONCE. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?
IF WE AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE PARENTS, THEN JUST TELL ME! JUST TELL ME AND WE’LL FORGET ABOUT IT AND GET ON WITH OUR LIVES.
AND IF THERE IS SOME SORT OF LESSON WE ARE SUPPOSED TO DERIVE FROM THIS STRING OF PAINFUL SITUATIONS, THEN TELL ME WHAT IT IS! I DON’T GET IT.
I DON’T.
(See, this is why I tend not to entertain the Ghosts of Failed Adoptions Past. I end up yelling at God on my blog. That can’t be good.)
*** Though the tone of this post is one extreme frustration, we are also grateful that every one of those opportunities came into our lives, because each one represented at least a chance to become parents.
