Tag: Adoption Page 12 of 24

I’ve been a little depressed when I think about adoption.  Grieving a bit over James.  Frustrated with the Tanzanian system, not just for me but also for good friends.  And unmotivated about the future.

We have always known that we would pursue international adoption should the door close in Tanzania.  We thought that might happen after #2, so I started some research back then.  But after Lily, we had no reason to believe that we wouldn’t eventually bring home #4 from Tanzania.  Until January.  As you already know.

And I also knew that international adoption takes time.  A lot of time.  So if we want #4 anytime soon, I would need to get cracking on it.  And I did a little.  Here and there.  Asking some questions, making some inquiries.

But I was not motivated at all.  Depressed with the system.  Not feeling particularly excited about any other country.  And not even wanting to think about the time…and the money….that we would invest. 

And I knew that one of our biggest hurdles would be the homestudy.  We had already learned the hard way that there is no one in Tanzania who is qualified to do a homestudy for an American agency.  So that meant our only option would be to fly a social worker out here, from the States, to do a homestudy.  I didn’t even want to think about it.  I didn’t even know where to begin finding that person.  And I didn’t want to think about how much it would cost.

But I’ve been praying for direction.  Show me the next step, I asked.  Not really knowing what to do.  Or what to expect. 

Until Thursday.

It all started with a phone call.  A friend asking me, “Do you know where to buy smoke detectors?” 

She was not overly concerned about fire safety.  No, she wanted smoke detectors because her family is pursuing international adoption.  And she had just found out that an American social worker would be in town in just three days to do a homestudy for someone else.

My head immediately started spinning. 

I asked her if I could contact this social worker as well.  She gave me the info. 

So on Friday I emailed the guy.  He told me that he was arriving Sunday evening and leaving Tuesday morning.  Barely enough time to do two homestudies, let alone three.  But he asked if we would like to meet with him while he was here.  Yes!  Of course.

So last night, we took him out to dinner.  He’s from an American, Hague-licensed agency.  He’s done dozens of homestudies for missionaries living abroad. 

And they are starting a new program in Uganda.  Our country of choice.

We got lots of questions answered, and figured that would be it.  I figured that maybe we could catch him on his next trip to Africa to do our homestudy. 

But then he said it: 

“You know, if I could come to your house and get some information, then if you decide to move foward with this, we could complete the rest of the homestudy over Skype.”

What? 

Really?

But we wouldn’t have any time to get our house “homestudy ready.”  I asked him what we would need in our house to pass the inspection.

He told us:  Smoke detectors in every bedroom and the kitchen, and a fire extinguisher in the kitchen.

Holy cow.

Guess what our house came with when we moved in?  Smoke detectors in every bedroom and the kitchen, and a fire extinguisher in the kitchen.

From previous renters, or someone.  And if you don’t live in Tanzania, you can’t understand this significance.  Not only do houses hardly ever have smoke detectors in them, it’s extremely hard to even find them in a store to buy them.  When we moved into this house over two years ago, I remember thinking that a previous renter must have been paranoid about fire.  Because you just don’t see these things.

Sometime, years ago, before we even moved into this house, God made our house “homestudy ready.”  So that when He decided to bring us a social worker, but no time to do anything to get ready, all we would have to do is nothing.

I had been praying for direction. 

There you go, God said.

And He dropped a homestudy into our laps. 

So, um, I guess we’d better listen.

It feels like a miscarriage.  I had that happen once. 

It’s not the worst pain in the world; it’s not the worst tragedy.  It’s just so disappointing and sad. 

Probably the hardest part is knowing that James’ future is so uncertain.  He can stay at the baby home until he is five; then he will have to transfer to a children’s home.  Some of them are pretty nice places.  Some of them.  And then what happens when he is 18?  What happens to any orphan when they are 18?  So I pray for a family for him. 

I pray that God works in the hearts of Tanzanians to turn them to adoption.  There are some, of course, who are willing to brave the social stigma of having an adopted child.  But only a precious few. 

And I pray that God changes the hearts of those who have the power to change adoption laws in this country.  In the last years, the laws have gotten more restrictive, not less.  Last year, the law was changed to say that any foreigner has to live in this country for three years before they can apply to adopt a child.  And just recently, new regulations have been put in place that restrict the number of adopted children in a family to three.

And that is why we cannot bring home James.  And not only James, but we will not ever be able to adopt in Tanzania again. 

Of course, there are millions of children in other countries who need families, and we will be praying about that and considering our options.  But how sad, how completely sad, that in a country of 3 million orphans–a country we love and cherish–that we cannot give at least one more child a chance at love.

There are many, many things that have happened in these past months, or even these past five years of our adoption journey, that could make a person very bitter and cynical.  But I am choosing to remember that God is sovereign even over governments and the hearts of men.  His plans are greater than mine. 

James was found beaten and bruised, with scars on his tiny 15 pound body.

He was brought to Forever Angels on February 10, 2011 and subsequently given that birthday.  Same as Lily’s.  Exactly one year younger than Lily.

We want him for our family.  We think he would be a perfect fit. 

Normally, I would not post such personal details about a child for everyone to see.  Because it’s James’ story to tell.

But I’m doing it because I want to ask you to please, please pray that God will bring a family for this precious, beautiful little boy. 

Because it’s not going to be us. 

I’m pretty good at poker.

But that’s probably because I’ve never actually played with real money.  I doubt I’d be very good under those circumstances.

Because I am not a risk-taker.  I hate risks. 

And adoption?  Kind of risky.  But at least with my other three, I knew that as long as I persisted long enough, I would get my children.

This time, I have no idea.

I spent all day working on the adoption for that little guy.

It was a really rough day.  I wish I could vent about it, but it would not be very wise for me to do so here.  After all, this is a public blog. 

So let’s just say that after Meeting #1 with Person #1, I left the office in tears, broken-hearted and absolutely infuriated.  I immediately went up one more floor to try to meet with the Big Boss.  He was not in.  His secretary did not know when he would be in.  Tomorrow is a holiday, and next week he is going on vacation.  It’s December 8th, and I would not have another chance to talk to him until January.

I called Amy H. at Forever Angels, then I called our lawyer, and blubbered my way through those conversations.  We made a plan for January.

Since I was already downtown, I walked around, looking for some things I need for HOPAC’s Christmas Fun Day on Saturday.  I was looking for large sheets of plastic to make a Slip n’ Slide, and each shopkeeper kept directing me farther and farther down the street.  When I finally found it, bought it, and made it back to my car, another hour had past.

On a whim, I called the secretary again.  “He’s come back early!”  she told me.  “Come up now!”

So I ran back up the five flights of stairs.  And then I sat there outside his office and waited for two more hours while he was in another meeting.

We talked, I cried again, and he directed me to talk to yet another person, next week.  Someone who will be in the office.

Right before I left, he off-handedly mentioned that he wasn’t supposed to be in the office this afternoon.  He had been in a conference and been sent back early for another reason.

I was happy for that tiny reminder that God is in this.

And I need that, because this is riskier than any of my other adoptions.  I don’t know how this will end up.  So far, it doesn’t look good.  Yet I can’t seem to shake the conviction to keep going.  But I know already, based on my reaction to conversations today, that it will really, really hurt if we hit a dead end.

And I don’t like that. 

But I’m all in.

So here I go.