Tag: Adoption Page 6 of 24

One Less Orphan

On August 19, 2015

Monday, August 17th

Mwanza is 700 miles away in northern Tanzania, on the shores of Lake Victoria. Gil, Lily, and I flew up in the afternoon. Lily got to come because we were going to Forever Angels, My Orphanage, as Lily describes it. She was two when she left. She had no memory of it, so we aimed to fix that.

We arrived at Forever Angels at 6:00 pm. Hannah, one of the longer-term volunteers, was sitting outside with Johnny when we arrived. She told us later that he had been so excited all day, eagerly telling anyone who would listen that he was getting a mama and baba, and would be going on the airplane.

But when the longed-for moment came, he shrank inside himself. He knew how to relate to us when we were just ordinary visitors–because he had seen a lot of those. But a mama and baba? No clue. I crept up to him and sat with him on the couch, where he was clutching the picture of us that he had examined for the past two weeks.

Since it was dinner time, the plan was to go to a restaurant together with Hannah and Georgie, volunteers that Johnny knew and loved well. He let me hold him in the taxi, but during dinner, he stuck with Hannah. His big eyes kept a worry crease, but usually we could get him to laugh.

Tuesday, August 18th

We hung out in the Baby Home, which is not known for peace or quiet. The children barrage any friendly face–or even not-so-friendly–the moment you step in the door. If you’ve got an arm or a lap free–or part of a lap–they want in on it. As far as they were concerned, even Lily was big enough to be fair game.

When we went outside, we discovered Johnny was hiding behind a playhouse, which we were told he does often. He let me hold him, but mostly he kept his distance. I caught him solemnly watching us from across the garden.

At lunch time, we decided to take Johnny out with just us, to practice for that evening’s departure. We ate at a deserted hotel down the road, where it was just our family. We pushed on the swings and we played hide and seek, and Johnny was won over. For a while, the worry line disappeared and the smile emerged. I repeated to him what I had been saying all day. Will you come on the airplane with us? Will you come to our house? Finally, instead of stoic eyes, I got tiny nods.

Then we went to the social welfare office to make everything official.

In the evening, we took Johnny back into the Baby Home to say goodbye. The children mobbed him. Kwa Heri, Johnny! Good-bye, Johnny! Hugs, kisses.

I couldn’t hold back the tears.

Because so many had loved him.

Because the loss in his life is real.

Because there were so many others left behind.

He was so brave. He took my hand, a total stranger, and walked off from the place he loved. So much trust in one little three-year-old boy.

He fought sleep for hours, taking in dozens of new sights and experiences. He finally succumbed in the plane, and we got to our home in Dar es Salaam at midnight.

Wednesday, August 19–today

He met Grace and Josiah today, and as I write, he is sleeping after his first full day at home. More about that later. But for now, I just want to celebrate that there is one less orphan in the world, and that there are four children in my house, and that they are mine.

To My Son, On the Night Before We Bring You Home

By Amy Medina

On August 16, 2015

In Other

Dear Johnny,

All week I’ve been waiting for that letter. The social worker told us maybe we would get it last Monday, so when I had to wait all week for it, I was way too impatient. On Friday morning, he told us that “probably” it would be ready that day.

All day long, I pasted my phone to myself. Finally, at 4:00 pm, we got the text. The letter was ready. I jumped in the car to drive to town, even though I knew at that time of the day, it would take me three hours round trip, and even though we had guests coming for dinner. In traffic on the phone, I talked your Dad through making the lasagna and getting it in the oven. I finally got home at 7:00, but it was all totally worth it. We have the letter!

I never dreamed I would be this excited. I had really contented myself on having three children. When Tanzania turned us down the first time, your Dad and I had tried to adopt a son from Ethiopia. When that fell through, and the social worker here wasn’t budging, I had pretty much given up. We had always wanted four kids, but I figured it wasn’t meant to be. I told God that I was thankful He had at least given us three, and I could be content.

So you, my sweet boy, are just icing on the cake! You are such a special gift to us; an undeserved extra blessing.

I am in awe of it all now. When we first asked Tanzania for a fourth child and were turned down, you had not yet come to Forever Angels. It’s crazy to think that all this time, you were the one God had picked out for us. We just had to wait until it all came together.

And speaking of providential timing, it can’t be a coincidence that today would have been Jeremiah Petchnick’sthird birthday. You, John Jeremiah, are named after him, so it’s pretty amazing that you are coming home at the very same time as his birthday.

I know, my son, that this homecoming will not be easy for you. You are leaving the only place you remember, a place full of so much love and so much fun. I won’t be surprised if you cry when we take you away. But what you don’t know is that you would not have been able to stay there forever; in just a year’s time, you would have been transferred to a long-term orphanage. And there would not have been a Mommy to sit with you when you cry yourself to sleep. We know a family is what you need, even if you don’t know what a family is yet. So we are making this choice for you, and we feel the weight of that responsibility.

I look at your pictures and I dream about what you will be like. You are older than our other kids when they came home, old enough that you might even remember this event. We really don’t know anything about you, and as we’ve discovered from our other kids, the “Family” Johnny might end up being completely different from the “Orphanage” Johnny. Crazy how kids find their true selves once they finally belong to a family.

We know you might have a lot of tears. We know there might be a lot of anger inside you that needs to come out. That’s okay, my boy. You have reason to be sad and angry. That’s what we’re here for. It’s okay to be messy in this house.

But you are Coming Home. You have been chosen; our love has been put on you. And it’s a Never-Stopping, Never Giving Up, Unbreaking, Always and Forever Love.** That kind of love can only come from God, who loved us first. We hope one day you’ll know His love too, but for now, He’ll show it to you through us.

Welcome Home, My Son.

Love,

Your Mom

Photo credit: Hannah Towlson

**Thanks, Sally Lloyd-Jones!

Somebody Please Induce This Labor

By Amy Medina

On August 12, 2015

In Other

Yesterday I forgot the Swahili word for twenty.

It’s one of the first Swahili words I learned….14 years ago. I’ve used it thousands of times since then. Adoptive moms definitely get pregnancy brain.

We’re waiting for one. last. letter. One last blasted stinkin’ letter.

Apparently it’s been written, but needs to be signed by another person and then stamped by yet another person….in a different building.

These last few days, I jump every time my phone rings. If you’ve called me recently, and I sound disappointed that it’s only you, I apologize. Don’t take it personally.

I’m at least two weeks overdue. This baby wants to come out. Please, somebody induce me.

This was two days ago. Thank you, Hannah, for continuing to post pictures of our gorgeous boy. I can’t stop looking, even though it’s torture to see them!

This is Why I Am Pro-Life, Not Just Anti-Abortion

By Amy Medina

On August 6, 2015

In Other

Start with the Right Argument

Guess what? This generation, everybody knows that a fetus is a human life. Pro-Lifers need to stop thinking it’s a convincing argument against abortion.

Pro-choice advocates no longer try to convince people that a fetus is just a blob of tissue. 3-D ultrasounds fixed that notion long ago. Maybe there’s some uneducated 15-year-old girl out there who still thinks that, but not the abortion advocates.

Science has proven that life begins at conception. It’s not contested anymore.

The real question at stake today is whether the unborn child is a person. This is where the real debate begins.

“‘The question is not really about life in any biological sense,’ intones Yale professor Paul Bloom….’It is instead asking about the magical moment at which a cluster of cells becomes more than a mere physical thing.'” (***see below for source of this and all further quotations)

“Princeton ethicist Peter Singer acknowledges that ‘the life of a human begins at conception.’ But ‘the life of a person–a being with some level of self-awareness–does not begin so early.'”

If our universe has materialistic origins, then the human body is nothing more than a disposable, yet complex machine, and our personhood is a mysterious entity that is separate from the body. This split worldview began in the Enlightenment and has been subconsciously absorbed by most westerners. Our biological body can be manipulated like any other machine to match up with our unseen person. Just because a human is alive doesn’t mean he’s a person. Thus, the pregnant woman, an established person, should not have to sacrifice her well-being for the sake of a non-person, the fetus.

Ask the Right Question

Pro-Lifers….you’ve got to stop using the argument, “It’s life, so therefore it’s murder.” It’s falling on deaf ears! The real question is, “What makes a person?”

And that question, right there, is the best one to ask in an abortion discussion. Because guess what? No one really knows the answer. And that’s dangerous. “Once personhood is separated from biology, no one can agree how to define it.” It won’t just stop at unborn children.

“James Watson, co-discoverer of the DNA double helix, recommended waiting until after birth [to call a baby a person] and giving a newborn baby three days of genetic testing before deciding whether it should be allowed to live. For Singer, personhood remains a ‘gray’ area even at three years of age.”

If an unborn baby is not a person, then what about anyone who is a burden on society? What about children born with disabilities? What about terminally ill people? What about mentally ill people? What about the poor? What about the elderly? Who gets to decide who is a person with a right to life?

Why I Really Must Stick My Nose Into Other People’s Business

A political candidate’s view on abortion is, unequivocally, the most important issue for me in any election. Not because it’s the only important issue in our society, but because it’s the most vital indication of worldview. How does the candidate define a person? If he won’t defend the most vulnerable members of our society as having the right to life, then how can I be sure he will defend anyone else’s rights?

“Liberals sometimes say, ‘If you’re against abortion, don’t have one. But don’t impose your views on others.’ At first, that might sound fair. But what liberals fail to understand is that every social practice rests on certain assumptions of what the world is like–on a worldview. When a society accepts the practice, it absorbs the worldview that justifies it. That’s why abortion is not merely a matter of private individuals making private choices. It is about deciding which worldview will shape our communal life together.”

What Does the Pro-Life Position Have to Offer?

The pro-life position is by far the most humanizing worldview out there. A human is a person and a person is a human. There is no dichotomy. If I become disabled, I will still be a person. If I am in a coma, I will still be a person. If I become elderly and frail with drool coming out of my mouth, I will still be a person. If I become pregnant, a new person forms inside of me with an equal value of personhood. Whether or not I choose to raise that person, he or she has a right to life.

“The pro-choice position is exclusive. It says that some people don’t measure up, don’t make the cut. They don’t qualify for the rights of personhood. By contrast, the pro-life position is inclusive. If you are a member of the human race, you’re ‘in.’ You have the dignity and status of a full member of the moral community.”

Are You Pro-Life or Just Anti-Abortion?

Listen, Pro-Lifers. This is where our passionate arguments often fall flat. It’s got to be more than a political position. It’s got to be a lifestyle. Don’t just be anti-abortion. Pro-life means pro-foster care. Pro-adoption. Pro-hospice care. Pro-Pregnancy Center. Pro-Single Mom Ministry. Pro-job training. Pro-Special Needs Ministry.

Picketing only does so much. Voting on election day only does so much. Are we just anti-abortion? Or actually Pro-Life? Are we willing to carry these “burdens to society?” We are asking women with unplanned pregnancies to make a huge sacrifice. Are we willing to walk alongside and sacrifice with them?

Ah, sweet boy, they tell us that now you know that you are getting a family, and you are so excited! We can’t wait….hopefully any day now!

***All quotations are taken from Saving Leonardo by Nancy Pearcey, who has been the most influential voice in my life on this subject. Read her brilliant book.

Grace’s Pilgrimage

By Amy Medina

On July 18, 2015

In Other

“I’m from Moshi,” Grace would always proudly announce.

Yet she had never been there since she was 10 months old. So one of the main purposes in our road trip was for Grace to finally see the city where she was born. There’s a lot of questions about her history that we won’t ever be able to answer, so we want to be able to fill in as many holes as we can. Grace needed to see Moshi and her orphanage–to put together a few more pieces of her identity.

So we drove 340 miles up north to Moshi, the city that rests in the shadow of Kilimanjaro. She saw the building where she lived until she was 10 months old; she toured the orphanage and she met Mama Lynn, the founder of Light in Africa and the woman who welcomed her as a newborn.

This visit was meant to be all about Grace, but I found it to be a pilgrimage of my own. It all came rushing back to me–the first time I met her, the three subsequent trips up to Moshi by myself to fight for her paperwork, the social worker who battled me on it. I was relatively new to Tanzania, new to adoption or even any kind of parenting. That same year, I had a miscarriage and had gotten my hopes set on two other children whose adoptions fell through.

I wasn’t just fighting for a child, I was fighting to become a mom. The wait felt excruciating. It finally ended on November 1, 2006. Grace entered our lives with her sunshine, and our lives were never the same again.

God has been so good to us. It was good to remember.

outside the building that used to be the baby home where Grace lived for 10 months

at Light in Africa, outside the Girls’ Home

with Mama Lynn