Well, we’ve been blessed to have so many great adoption stories this month! I’m pleased to announce another, this one by Amy Sotolongo. Feel free to stop by her blog and say hello!
who sets out on the road to adoption begins that journey with hope. Hope for
what the future holds, hope in the plan the Lord has for your life, and hope
that in the end you will be blessed by the addition of a life to your family.
Throughout the process you find that hope has a story to tell, each story
different, each person’s road to adoption unique, each one equally magnificent,
but all it’s own.
realized. We set out to start a family, seems easy for most so we didn’t worry.
Days turn into months, months pass, nothing happening, emotions begin to run
high, doubt begins creeping in, pregnancy tests that started out as exciting
become the ultimate dread. Ovulation sticks, doctor visits, and big choices
ahead become the norm. Infertility, its an ugly word. In those months and
months and years and years doubt crept in and grew like a weed around my heart.
Doubt in my ability to have biological children, doubt in that wonderful plan
God has for me that I was sold on in church for years, doubt that began to eat
away at my sanity. I grew a mask, I smiled, and I immersed myself in work,
hobbies, and time with friends and family. I filled my life so full I hoped I
didn’t have to feel. I smiled and bought baby gifts for everyone around me that
seems to be turning up pregnant at record speed. I attended baby showers and I
cried all the way home, and then felt guilty that I just couldn’t be over the moon
ecstatic for that friend or family member. I soothed the emptiness with
Starbucks frappuccinos and that hope I began with really started to waiver. I
had long conversations with my spouse about a future that did not include
little ones. We agreed that extensive travel each summer would be the lifestyle
we would choose, but it never felt like enough. I asked my spouse, “Are we
going to be ok?” because I knew underneath it all I was very much not ok and
there was nothing soothing that every growing abyss inside of me. It was pure
emptiness. Flat prayers, hope wavering, and emotional exhaustion began to be
was then God began to move, a new girl arrived at school, enrolled in one of my
classes, sitting right in front of me as her past has clouded her future making
her scary to all those around her. She resides in a group home and has a mask
one hundred times thicker than my own and my heart begins to bleed for her each
morning. This burning question begins to rise and speaks over and over, “What if
this girl would have been adopted into a loving family at a young age, what
would her life be like right now?” This hard shelled, angry teen might have
been saved so much heartache, so much pain…and we begin to consider adoption on
a very small level.
we arrive at church only to fine “Orphan Care” cards on the seats, and adoption
at the forefront of this topic, we chuckle as it begins to be a recurring
theme. I gave a tour to a parent who’s plan was to bring her teen to my school
the following year and somehow it comes up that he is being adopted by this
family and her adoption story pours out over me like ocean waves. I went home
and recanted every detail to my husband. A high school friend I had not seen in
year’s posts on facebook that she would love to be a comfort to those who are
childless on Mother’s Day, as she has walked that road too. A couple months
later I find myself sending that message to her, the one that says, “Can I talk
adoption with you?”. A coffee shop meeting that ends with hope spilling over.
Information, contacts, so much to do, and the road to adoption is on.
hiring a facilitator we love, creating a profile over Thanksgiving break, all
with hope continuing to build. January rolls around and we receive a call that
our profile was chosen by a birth mom with a baby girl due in April with a
request that we fly to Sacramento to meet. We board a plane and fly an hour,
more nervous than ever before. We sit at a restaurant learning all we can about
this brave mom to be who envisions a better life for her baby. A match is made,
we trade contact info and photos of a growing belly come through the phone week
by week. Work throws a shower, family rejoices, girl clothes pour in and
blankets are sewn and sewn. A crib is bought, and all the preparations are
made. Two weeks before the due date the phone rings, time to meet this angel on
its way to earth. Four hours into the drive the cell phone rings, “She has been
born, healthy, lots of hair…” and a photo appears on my screen. My heart melts,
four more hours to meet this miracle in the making. Minutes later the phone
rings again and the hardest words I have ever heard come through, “Amy, she has
changed her mind, she is going to keep her baby”. The world begins to spin.
Sitting in a gas station parking lot with all around us in slow motion our
hearts break wide open, there are not words for failed adoptions, only raw
emotions that you don’t wish on your worst enemy. The future dims, and you have
no idea how you are going to pick up all these shattered pieces of your heart.
You hold to that verse, “Hope is an anchor to the soul” that verse you have
held to many times before, but never like this. Hope has a story to tell, and
this one is not over, even though in these moments it certainly feels like it.
month old with a very complicated biological family is being placed for
adoption, they love your profile, come and meet? Airline tickets are purchased,
again. We sit around a table and share a dinner of In ‘n Out and talk life.
Four generations of this family around one table. We talk Cuba, our most recent
trip; they talk Chile, their family’s heritage. We love this family. We board
the plane; I have more doubt than hope in this one. Two weeks later the phone
rings, “Birthmother does not want to place the baby, but the family loved you
from all things adoption is in order. We travel to San Diego to watch our
beloved Dodgers for the weekend, days later we board a plane with Boston,
Cooperstown and Niagara Falls on the itinerary. We breathe in new places and
breath out grief over broken dreams. We discuss how many more of these we can
live through and hold to one last thread of hope.
runway I find myself in Palm Springs enjoying time with my grandma. My phone
rings, “I have birthparents that are searching for a family for their baby due
in two weeks. They want to place with a couple that cannot conceive a baby on
their own and have no other children, can I show your profile?” We agree to
have our profile shown and hold our breath and ask for prayers for five long
days. Then the phone rings, “They chose your profile, when can you come?” We
board the plane two days later with a much different feeling than ever before.
We meet the couple and it is an instant connection. They are open, honest,
kind, and want a life more than they can provide for their little one. Sitting
over a meal of Mexican food there are stories and tears, hope and pain, joy and
love. All the pieces fit, and there was peace and hope like never before. Hours
later we hugged goodbye knowing this was a match. As we left they asked, “You
will come back for this baby right?” Oh yes we will, just three days later.
Sitting at lunch with a friend I get a text, “Heading to hospital, get ready to
get on the road”. Nine hours later we pulled into the hospital parking lot. We
were ushered into the room and three hours later we witnessed the birth of an
angel. My husband got to cut the cord; I got to hold birth mom’s leg as she
brought this gift into the world. Out to the hallway we went, they wiped her
off, checked her out, bundled her up and handed her to us. To us. Surreal. Joy
like no other. So elated we felt numb. It had all been worth it, every single
day. Two days later as we sat in NICU with this angel baby our phone rang, the
birthparents calling to congratulate us on our baby. They signed the papers, she
is ours, forever. Does adoption get any better than this? Now we have the gift
of giving back, of cheering on others, of inspiring others towards adoption,
and we could not be any happier.
always has a story to tell, never doubt it has one for you.
I can be of any help or encouragement to you feel free to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.