Adoption Journey, Part 4

Click here for Part 1.

Click here for Part 2.

Click here for Part 3.

That evening with Eliana’s foster family is such a special time that I will never forget.  As usual they offered us snacks, coffee and tea. I was so thankful to hear Eliana’s foster momma be the first to call her “Eliana” and to see our sweet girl look up at hearing her new name.  Her foster dad poured us each a tiny bit of Armenian brandy and made a toast, saying our family was a blessing from God to their family. Ohhhh, no. They were a blessing to us!  I will forever remember and remind Eliana of the love her first family had for her as they chose to give her life and the love her foster family had for her as they selflessly cared for her for seven months.  We are blessed to have known this family for a short time and I’ll thank God for them, always.

After a while we all settled together on the couch and took pictures of our two families, joined together to love the little girl at the center of it all.  We said our goodbyes and made plans to be back the following day after noon to take custody of our daughter.

Of course, life often doesn’t go according to plan, so of course getting a court decree amended so the name would fit on the birth certificate wasn’t a simple matter.  We spent the morning packing our luggage and preparing to leave Akhaltsikhe. The plan was to pick up Eliana and then leave town so that she wouldn’t have to transition to the guest house and then transition again to Tbilisi.  Meanwhile, our facilitator was at the courthouse working to have an amendment drawn up that would change the name to read “Eliana FaithZeinab Kelley.” Three names to fit in the three boxes on the birth certificate! No easy task when the judge has gone on a two week vacation!

By around 3 pm we realized we’d gotten ahead of ourselves by packing and preparing to leave.  We let the foster family know about the delay and prepared for *hopefully* one more night in the small town.  Our facilitator had worked it out with another judge to have an addendum drawn up the next day so that we could be on our way.  

Another dinner out, and another night of sleep.  Thursday, October 11 would be our gotcha day.

Thursday was a beautiful day in Akhaltsikhe.  The sky was so blue. Our bags were packed. We all went together to the courthouse to wait in the lobby for the new judge to prepare the addendum.  As soon as she finished, it was delivered to us. After a quick check to ensure everything was correct, we returned to the guest house, loaded the car, and went to get our daughter.

We arrived around 1:00, nap time for Eliana.  We spent just a few minutes with the foster family...going over last minute details...when she sleeps, when she eats, etc.  After a few minutes our facilitator told us it was time to go. Eliana’s second momma, her foster momma, picked her up, eyes swimming, gave her a quick hug and pointed to me.  She said something. All I understood was “mama.” Then she passed this precious little girl off to me. I took her outside where the foster grandmother caught up to say bye. I climbed into the car with my new daughter in my arms.  Buckled my seatbelt. Waved through the window. Wiped the tears off my cheeks.

Eliana didn’t cry during the goodbye.  But I think all of the adults from her foster family and forever family did.

You dream of gotcha day.  During the wait, you imagine and you wish and you hope and plan.  I thought we’d adopt from an orphanage and I imagined the photo we would take outside.  Big smiles, hearts soaring!

Our photos from gotcha day are not what I pictured.  The only photos we took were after we drove out of town and a little girl fell asleep in my arms, clutching the only familiar things she had left, a bottle and a few stuffed animals.   What I pictured in my mind wasn’t real life. Real life was a sleepy little girl and some very sad adults. Gotcha day was a beautiful day. A forever family day. But it wasn’t a happy day, not really.  It will always be a bittersweet day for me. That day I realized all over again that this world is so broken. So many families, so many people are broken. A child shouldn’t have to go through the transitions our little Eliana Faith Zeinab has gone through.  But oh, how sweet God’s redemption plan is for this broken world. HE created this idea of adoption, of forever family, when he made a way for us to forever be HIS children, adopted. Not because of something we did, but because in our brokenness, he had compassion, mercy.  He extended grace.

The trip to Tbilisi would take us about three and a half hours.  Eliana woke up about an hour into the journey. She was confused, disoriented.  Scared. She cried such a sad, sleepy cry. After a few minutes she settled down and went back to sleep.  Later, maybe half an hour later, she whimpered, opened her eyes, and vomited all over me.

#momlife

We cleaned up as best we could and continued our trip.  When we arrived at our apartment in Tbilisi, we unloaded and started to settle in.  Eliana seemed to accept that her life was changing and didn’t really cry. She played with Matthew and ate some food.  The crib she was supposed to sleep in broke at a touch, so we set the kids up on a pallet of blankets on the floor. That night I learned that Eliana wiggles around even more than her big brother does!

The apartment where we were to stay in Tbilisi was close to a market and a restaurant.  We were able to buy food and snacks, drinks and candy whenever we needed or wanted them.

The next day was busy, with a trip to the justice building, successfully acquiring the birth certificate this time!  We also had her passport photo taken and visited the mall.

With the arrival of the weekend, we had plenty of time and nothing to do.  Our driver and his seven year old son picked us up for a trip to the top of a mountain where there is a park and a restaurant.  We had some lunch and walked around a bit before finishing the day resting at the apartment. We decided to lay low on Sunday, too.  It was a good time for us to get to know each other as a family of four, but we were already anxious to be home. It was difficult to fully relax when we weren’t in our own home!  Eliana was sharing my twin sized bed at night since she rolls all over the room, otherwise! Matthew was using the other twin bed and Kyle slept on the couch. During the days we noticed that when Eliana was feeling sad, she would walk to the bedroom and gesture toward the bed.  She grieved quietly, laying in bed and chewing on an empty bottle for a while. I would sit in the room with her or check on her regularly. When she felt better she would sit up and I’d carry her back to the other room.

Monday required a trip back to the Justice Building to apply for the passport.  Tuesday a trip to the doctor to clear Eliana for a US visa, then a return to the Justice Building to retrieve the passport.  That afternoon I emailed the embassy to let them know we were ready for a visa appointment. Wednesday was another low key day as we waited to hear back from the embassy.  We visited the mall again and had a deliciously familiar meal from Wendy’s. We were thrilled when we heard back from the embassy that we would be received at the US Embassy for Eliana’s Visa appointment the following day!

The appointment to apply for Eliana’s travel visa was much more low key than I expected.  We arrived at the US Embassy in Tbilisi and explained the reason for our visit, showed passports and proof of appointment, and made our way through metal detectors.  We then made our way from the guard building, across a manicured lawn, and into a waiting room. The wall to our right held a line of windows and to the left a room filled with chairs.  With Eliana in our arms and Matthew on his best behavior, we had a seat and waited for our names to be called. Truly, the appointment was a piece of cake! There were toys for the kids to play with and a very friendly immigration officer to help us with the process.  We were questioned about our adoption process to determine if any under the table deals were involved, and then congratulated and approved! The immigration officer who handled our case told us that he loves adoption because he was also adopted into his family. We were told to return the following day for our daughter’s visa.  That afternoon we went to visit an orthodox church located at the top of a mountain with a beautiful view of the countryside and city.  

Friday arrived and truly, all I remember is picking up the visa, packing, saying goodbye to our facilitator, putting the kids to bed...and waking to go to the airport in the middle of the night.  I remember the immigration officer in the Tbilisi airport was confused and seemed quite angry that a family with American passports had custody of a Georgian child and was leaving the country. I remember the first flight, 2 hours to Qatar, was a nightmare.  I remember Eliana’s fear was so big, so loud. She totally came apart. I remember the angry guy a few rows back yelling at us in a language I didn’t know, and the kind lady across the aisle silencing him. I remember multiple security checks in Qatar. The 14 hour flight to DC is a blur of taking yet another walk around the plane.

And then we were walking through customs.  Matthew fell asleep, head on his knee sitting on the floor near baggage claim while Eliana sat patiently in my arms.  Or was she in the stroller? A blur.

Then, bags in hand, we walked to the doors and our family was there with huge smiles.  A stop at Chick-Fil-A, a trip home. Our daughter. Our long awaited answered prayer. Sleeping in the pack-n-play beside me.

How does He do it?  How does the Lord take the brokenness of this world and make something beautiful?  How does he make a family from people who do not share DNA? How does he make a such difficult years of waiting seem like nothing, as much a blur as the 14 hour plane ride?  

I thank God, now.  I thank him for not leaving me where I was.  I thank him for allowing us to walk through fire.  I’m grateful he has refined me through this six and a half year adoption, through the sickness and loss.  I’m so glad that although we do live in a broken world where hard things happen regularly--he never leaves us to walk the path alone.  

I believe I will see 

The goodness of the Lord

In the land of the living.

Wait for the Lord.

Be Strong, Take Heart,

And wait for the Lord.

Psalm 27:13-14

Adoption Journey, Part 3

If you missed Part 1, click here!
If you missed Part 2, click here!

The ride to our daughter’s foster home was very short.  The neighborhood was placed on a hill, the houses similar to townhomes where each small block was filled with a row of homes sharing a wall.  Our driver couldn’t remember the exact turns so we wandered a bit. We were told to look for a green car. There--finally Kyle saw a green car just as we drove past it.  I turned to look just in time to see a woman--one who I had seen many times, whose voice I already knew from watching videos of our daughter over and over--step out onto the street, holding a little girl with a ponytail directly on top of her head.  A face I felt I had known for a century. We backed up and parked on the street. I climbed out and walked around to the sidewalk. “Hi Zeinab.” (I hope I’m saying it right). 

She shied away from us at first.  Her foster momma smiled and welcomed us into her home.  The door opened to a hallway. We were led to the first door on the left to a sitting room with a couch and chair, a table.  A rug. All things I had seen before while watching that video over and over and over. It was smaller than I’d envisioned, but so welcoming.  As I sat on the floor and began to engage this tiny little person in play, I was struck by how completely normal this seemed. Of course we were in Georgia, in the home of an Armenian family, playing with our Azeri daughter.  Where else would we be on October 6, 2018?

We decided to bring our daughter a different item each day to play with together as we got to know one another.  That first day we gave her a ladybug backpack with two books inside as well as a stuffed dog Matthew insisted on bringing for his new sister.  She loved to put the books into the bag and take them out again. She also loved playing with a pair of sunglasses Matthew brought. She was enamoured with her new big brother almost instantly that first day.  The most precious moment happened about 45 minutes into our visit that first day. Matthew held out his arms for a hug--and his long awaited sister happily threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Throughout the visit that first day and each day that followed, I was amazed and so very thankful that our daughter’s foster family was so welcoming.  Her foster momma spent time each day showing me what Zeinab liked to play and eat and how she got ready for a nap. She continually prompted Zeinab to play with us and reassured her when she was nervous.  She coached me on her schedule and routines. After loving and caring for this precious one year old girl for seven months, she held her out to us with open hands and blessed our lives by easing what could have been an incredibly difficult transition.

When Zeinab’s nap time arrived on Saturday, I took part in her bedtime routine and then we headed back to the guest house.  We were so exhausted at that point that we all napped. I woke up the boys around 5pm for snacks from our stash of granola bars, applesauce, crackers, peanut butter, etc.  As soon as our bellies were full, we crashed for the night.

On Sunday we woke up and got ready, meeting our facilitator downstairs for another breakfast of boiled eggs and sausage---ohhhh and that yummy yummy bread.  Instant coffee mixed into hot water got my blood moving, and the excitement of seeing our soon to be daughter again made jet lag vanish. We loaded into the car, wandered the streets again, and finally parked behind the green car.  The visit that day was pleasant, but unremarkable. We worked to draw our daughter out of her shell so that she would become more accustomed to us. Her foster momma always had fresh baked items to feed us, as well as Armenian coffee which comes in a tiny cup, is a dark gritty brown, and actually quite delicious (plus gave an excellent jolt of caffeine just when we needed it most)!  I was able to participate in Zeinab’s naptime routine again, and then we were on our way.

After leaving the foster family’s home, we stopped by a money exchange location and traded our US dollars for Lari.  From there we went to the Akhaltsikhe castle to do some sight seeing. The castle was originally built in the 9th century and was renovated just a few years ago.  The castle sat on top of a hill and could be seen from almost every part of the town. The views from the castle were breathtaking. The town could be seen in the valley below, surrounded by rolling foothills in every direction.

Later that evening we went out to eat in a local restaurant.  We asked our driver/interpreter to order something for us to try...and that’s when we were introduced to Khinkali.  Ohhhh khinkali. There is a Georgian restaurant in DC now and I can’t wait to go there just for some khinkali!! This traditional Georgian dish is essentially a dumpling filled with meat and greens.  It is juicy and oh so delicious! While we were eating, a group of young men turned the music up so loud and had some kind of dance off. We had a blast watching their fun!

After another night of sleep we followed a similar routine Monday: Breakfast, time with our girl, and sight seeing.  We had an opportunity to take our daughter for a walk in the neighborhood, just the four of us. Later we took her to a field to run and play with the beachball we had brought along.  That beachball was THE best toy we brought with us! We would inflate it for the visit and then release the air when we finished for the day.

That thing is still hanging on to life down in the basement where the kids play with it regularly. 

After our visit Monday we took a 2 hour trip to visit a place called the City of Vardzia. In the 12th century a city was dug directly into the side of a cliff. Once again the panorama was breathtaking. The cliff led down to a river valley that was lush and green.  Above us, the sky was a clear crystal blue with only a few cotton clouds. At the end of our tour of the cliff dwellings we walked through a tunnel that lead to a staircase which took us to a path and eventually to the water. Matthew insisted on putting his hand in the river.  It was icy cold.

Later we made our way back to Akhaltsikhe.  We visited another restaurant and had our first taste of khachapuri.  Mmmmm. Yummy Georgian cheese bread. That first night we tried Imeruli Khachapuri.  Ohhhhh so good. It was round like a pizza and the closest thing I can relate it to is cheese sticks from a pizza place? Or stuffed crust pizza---but where the whole circle is stuffed with cheese. Amazing. 

That night sleep was hard to come by because the next day was court.  We decided to take it slow Tuesday morning rather than trying to fit in a visit with Zeinab before court.  We had breakfast provided by our hostess, took our time getting ready, and lunch from our snack stash. We met at 2:30 to head to the courthouse across town.  I was so nervous. SO nervous. I remember holding Kyle’s hand so very tightly in the car on the way there. We dressed in our nicest outfits and reminded Matthew again and again to be on his very best behavior.

 When we arrived at the courthouse, we provided the security guard with our passports and took a seat on the bench in the lobby.  Soon other people arrived, including the man who would represent the Ministry, the group in Georgia who oversee orphan care and international adoption.  He was so friendly and kind--which was a relief, since his job was to represent Zeinab’s best interest in court. After a brief wait, we were escorted to a courtroom.  Matthew was with us, but we were told he wasn’t allowed in the courtroom! Sooo back to the lobby he went, my only child--sitting alone in the lobby of a courthouse in a foreign country, surrounded by people who spoke another language.  “Don’t worry, I watch him,” the security guard reassured me. I’m guessing my face was easy to read!  

The courtroom looked like any stereotypical courtroom.  A few rows of seats, a railed off area, two tables, one on each side of the room facing one another, the half wall, and the judge’s bench.  The ministry representative sat on the right side of the room (to the left of the judge), and we sat on the left side of the room. Our driver joined us as our interpreter and our facilitator stood as our representative.

The judge was an older man and wore a stern expression.  Conversation swirled around us as the hearing began. Occasionally our interpreter leaned over to fill us in on what was being said by the ministry official and our facilitator.  The judge informed us all that this was the very first adoption case he had overseen, and in fact the first adoption to take place in Akhaltsikhe. He thanked us for taking the time to come to their country to pursue adoption rather than sending a representative.  At some point he turned to the Ministry representative and asked why Zeinab was not being adopted in Georgia. His answer nearly brought Kyle and me to tears. The official explained that due to her medical needs, none of the 3,000 adoptive families in country were willing or able to adopt her. To be fully transparent, up until that point, we had each wondered if we were in the right place, doing the right thing.  After all, this little girl had already been through so much and was so happy in her current placement. Our arrival in her life would rock her world and flip it upside down! Were we just a couple of “wealthy Americans,” adopting a child who would be better off staying put? To realize that her only chance of a forever family was to be adopted internationally was heartbreaking, sobering, and also yet another confirmation that we were where the Lord wanted us to be. 

The judge only had one main question for us.  He wanted to know why we would adopt a child with medical needs.  He wasn’t happy until he was assured that we not only had the means to care for her, but believed she would bring great joy to our family.  He explained to us that his wife was once head of an orphanage in Tbilisi and he was greatly invested in ensuring we were the right placement for this little girl.  

Conversation continued around us and we waited to see what else would be asked.  Then, our facilitator leaned over…”It is done!” she said with a smile. “She is yours.”

That moment. Those words.  How can I even explain that miraculous minute in time.  When our prayer was answered, when an orphan was an orphan no more! It was hard to swallow, our eyes were full and our hearts exploding!

But we sat quietly!

The judge stepped out to finalize paperwork.  When he returned, he asked for her new name.

“Eliana Faith Kelley.”

Conversation proceeded without us for a few minutes.  The judge wanted her to keep her given name from birth.

We are grateful to this judge because his suggestion became our desire.  After spending four days with this little one and calling her Zein, Zena, and Zeinab, how could we remove that piece of her story?  But we knew Eliana Faith was her name, as well--My God has Answered. 

“Eliana Faith Zeinab Kelley.”  

And so a new person was made that day.  Her identity and name changed. No longer an orphan, no longer alone, no longer waiting for the next placement, no longer dependent on the state for care.  Now this child who God has always watched, as one cell became two, as her body took form, as she breathed her first breath, on her first night in the orphanage, when she took her first step, when she had chicken pox, when she traveled to a new city, when she met her foster family, when she met her forever family, this child, who God has always watched, whose days were written before a single one began, this child has a new identity.  She belongs to a family.  She is an answer to a million prayers from a thousand people.  Eliana has always been loved by God. Now she will be loved by a family that will love her forever.

The work was not done, however.  I hurried to the lobby to grab Matthew and tell him the judge said, “YES.”  He was so relieved! Then he told me a man tried to talk to him in the lobby “But don’t worry, Mommy! I knew he was a stranger so I didn’t answer.”

“What did the man say?”

“He asked if I was okay.”

“Was in the officer standing there?”

“Yes!”

Haha! So we talked about how some strangers are safe and how to tell which ones you can talk to.  I do love seven year olds!

From the courthouse we headed to get some food.  Khachapuri again. Yummmy! While there we got a call from the courthouse that the paperwork was READY!  So our facilitator and driver headed to the courthouse to pick that up and we all met at the Justice Building to apply for the birth certificate.  Unfortunately, about 30 minutes into that process we realized that their computer program would not ALLOW four names on the birth certificate...but the birth certificate HAS to match the court decree!!!  Our facilitator assured us she would work it out in the morning and we headed straight to the foster family’s home to see our daughter.

Our daughter!

Click here for Part 4!

Adoption Journey, Part 2

If you haven't read Part 1, you can find that here.

The end of 2017 brought more hard lessons.  As Kyle’s physical stamina began a sharp decline in the fall, we realized that we had to slow our family’s pace.  Kyle took a medical leave of absence. We learned that we had to find ways to be together more, in spite of our busy jobs and demanding schedules.  We learned that we are not invincible and we needed to make time for rest. We learned to trust our church community and pastor more. We learned to accept help.  To stop pretending that life is always easy. To say out loud when things are hard.

In November 2017 our agency told us they’d like to talk.  Deep down we knew they were going to ask us to switch countries.  All we could do was pray that God be clear if our direction was to change.

“There is a ten month old girl in the Republic of Georgia.  Her heritage is Azeri.”

I’ll never forget that moment.  Our eyes met. We both nodded. A weight was suddenly removed from our shoulders and we were released to pursue adoption in another country.

“Yes.”  Kyle answered.

“We can’t promise this exact child will be available.”

“Yes, we’ll switch to Georgia.”

And so, five and a half years into our adoption journey, we started over completely.  We had to gather every piece of paperwork all over again to have translated into a different language and submitted to a different government.  I refused to hope that the child mentioned would be ours. But my traitorous heart continually whispered…”but she IS Azeri…” On December 22nd our world stopped moving.  Kyle and Matthew were supposed to be heading out the door to catch a movie...and I received an email. Her name. Her medical needs. Her face. A video. The flurry of paperwork continued.  More pictures and videos, more medical information arrived in February. In March we learned she had been moved to foster care.

Daily I battled the mindset that nothing good could come our way, that this was bound to end in disaster.  Daily I reminded myself that God is good. That he works all things together for the good of those called according to his purpose.  The whisper of my heart, “I trust you with my children. I trust you, I trust you, I trust you.”

Miraculously, things kept moving along.  Paperwork was completed and submitted in record time.  The referral issued in June. Time slowed to a crawl as we anticipated “the call” that would give us our court date.  Lists were made, clothing gathered, a baby shower hosted, a room decorated. Still no call. Before bed each night I whined “Kyle! I’m ready to gooooo!”   Each day without a call was an excruciating reminder that I am not in control. Not in control. Not in control. My children belong to the Lord! HE alone knows the number of their days and HE alone knew the day we would meet our daughter, hold her for the first time.

The call came around 6:30 on a Wednesday night at the beginning of October.  Earlier in the day I’d gone to Target...mostly out of extreme boredom. Looking down at my phone, standing there outside the church, all rational thought left my mind.  By the area code I knew it was them! But in Georgia it was the middle of the night...so there’s no way the agency was calling with a court date...right?

“Are you ready for this?” our case manager asked.

“No. Yes. I have no idea!”  I was convinced it was more bad news.

“October 9th.  Your court date is October 9th.  Which means we need you to leave tomorrow.  Can you leave tomorrow?”

The rational thought still gone from my brain, I gave a “yes of course!” and tried to concentrate on what she told me.  As I listened, I dragged my husband out of conversation and around the corner of the building.

“IT’S THE CALL.”  I mouthed.

“What did they say?”

“October 9th.”

I resumed trying to focus while Kyle looked at his calendar.  Less than a week away. Then he quickly started sending texts to our family, pastoral staff, and a couple of friends.

When I got off the phone, I’m pretty sure I did a ridiculous dance.  I quickly raced through the church to pick Matthew up from the class where I had just dropped him off.  Calling my best friend, we agreed to meet at my house to start packing. From there, a blur of activity.  Talking to my father in law about plane tickets, my sister in law running to the store for last minute items, packing, packing, packing.  Activating international cell service, activating travel insurance, packing, packing, packing.

There was no sleep to be had that night.  I mean, I lay in bed quietly...but my brain couldn’t pause for a moment to rest.

The next day my sis in law came over to do some general cleaning and laundry folding (because she knows it would stress me out to leave those things undone) while I finished up the list of packing and prepping.  In the afternoon, my best friend and her husband returned to pick us up for the trip to the airport. We had to stop by the car shop to pick up the van that had been there a couple of days. I remember on the drive to the airport I wondered what in the world we’d gotten ourselves into.

After quick goodbyes and a prayer, Kyle, Matthew and I dragged all of our stuff into the airport.  We each had a suitcase with our own clothes (enough for about a week) and another shared suitcase with all our toiletries.  One suitcase was devoted almost completely to snacks, medicine, and various household needs to help us through the month long trip.  The last suitcase was full of little girl clothes that we hoped would fit the sweet one whose face we’d been staring at for nearly a year.  

In case you are wondering about my state of mind before we left the country, I nearly lost Kyle’s iPad and laptop going through security.  You see, when you have an insulin pump and continuous glucose monitor on your body while going through security, you have to spend extra one on one time with a friendly TSA agent.  That means your wife tries to gather all of her stuff, all of the seven year old’s stuff, and all of YOUR stuff off the moving belt before it piles up at the end of the screening area.  Soooo while Kyle spent quality time with the TSA guy, I quickly emptied buckets and stuffed our items back into backpacks. Except somehow I missed the bucket with the ipad and laptop (insert panic here).  Don’t worry!! Ten minutes and ten TSA agents later, we found it!

We arrived at the gate with plenty of time to spare, snapped a quick picture, and tried to relax.  Our first flight was to Munich, Germany and was supposed to last about 8 hours. We were flying through the night and hoped to get some sleep.  Honestly. How can any one sleep when you are on your way to meet the child you’ve been chasing after for SIX and a half YEARS??? Matthew got several hours...Kyle and I dozed off a bit.

In Munich we had a nine hour layover, followed by a shorter 4 hour flight to Tbilisi.  It was 4am on Saturday morning local time when we landed. Every sign was written in both the Georgian language and English.  We made our way through the airport to baggage claim and through the doors into the dark, cold morning. Our driver and facilitator were there to pick us up.  We loaded our luggage into the trunk and squeezed into the backseat for the trip to Akhaltsikhe where our daughter lived with her foster family.

After we left the city the road curved up, over, around the foothills of the mountainous terrain.  The sun rose behind us as we made our way west of the capital, revealing the stunning beauty of the Georgian countryside.  We pulled into the small town around 7:00 am. The guest house where we were to stay wasn’t expecting us yet, so we parked out front and our facilitator ran to the nearby breadshop to buy us a delicious fresh baked Georgian bread.  She passed it to us right away and we tore off large pieces to eat. The bread was huge--bigger than my lap--and stretched to a rounded point on opposite ends. The morning was chilly and we were hungry and so tired. The bread warmed us up as we waited for the owner of the guest house to arrive.

When our hostess arrived, she let us into the first level of the guest house.  The guest house was sandwiched in the middle of several other businesses. When walking through the door, the staircase was directly to the left, leading up to the second and third level.  The main level had an open area and two rooms, as well as a small kitchenette. The place was not truly open for business yet, but there was a couch to sit on and a little table where we could sit to eat.  We agreed to rest for about an hour while our hostess prepared us some breakfast.

Our room was located on the second floor.  The only window opened to the hallway. The bathroom was small and surprised us a bit.  I had never seen a showerhead that was simply attached to the side of the bathroom wall, drain in the floor.  To be honest, the entire bathroom was only a little larger than a typical American shower stall...and it held the sink and toilet in the same space.  As soon as we were in our room I began to settle in and make it homey as much as possible. We anticipated staying for at least five days and potentially two weeks.  With three twin beds, one nightstand, and the wardrobe for hanging clothes and a few shelves--we were a bit cramped. But in the midst of our exhaustion and excitement none of that mattered.  This was the day we would meet our daughter.

After a very short rest and quick showers, we met our facilitator and driver on the first level for a quick meal: boiled eggs, sausages (think hotdogs), a variety of cookies, fruit, and tea or instant coffee.  I can’t say any of us had much of an appetite. Too little sleep, too much excitement. And so it was time to go.

You can find part 3 here!

Adoption Journey, Part 1

Putting our six and a half year long adoption story into written words is a daunting task, but one I feel I must do.  To forget the lessons of these last several years would be devastating. Much of our story has been shared in pieces here and there through the blog we used to update friends and family along the way.  But I want to put everything down in one place. Being able to look back on the entire journey to see how God was working all along--to see how he loved us every moment of every day--to see our faith justified and to know we are justified by our faith--I hope it will be an encouragement to me to be able to sit down and look back in future days.

Kyle and I always planned to adopt.  Kyle spent time in college working in orphanages in Mexico, and I have a sister and two cousins who are adopted.  Even before we were married there was never a question in our minds as to whether or not we adopt. Our firstborn, Matthew, came into our family easily.  Got pregnant just when we wanted to, easy pregnancy, easy delivery. Easy baby, all things considered. Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I love to follow a plan.  So I had our lives mapped out: Three biological kids before I turned 30 and got too old (insert eyeroll here--now age 32...who says 30 is old?!?!), then adopt from an international orphanage.  Of course I hadn’t yet learned that life doesn’t typically follow the plans I set.

And so God dropped his first of many bombshells.  In April 2012, before our firstborn was even one year old, I was in our bedroom, Matthew napping in his bedroom.  I think it must have been a rare day when I decided to make the bed. And in a moment I had the clearest impression from the Lord.  This had happened to me twice before. The Lord speaks to us in many ways, through pastors and other Christians, through his Word. And sometimes I hear him through these moments of clarity.  Moments in which a knowledge is planted in my mind and heart and I feel no doubt about it. A certainty.  

The first time I felt that way was in June 2004.  I was headed home from a babysitting job. Having just graduated from high school, I was feeling on top of the world.  I was driving up a hill, dreaming about college life and the big wide world in front of me. Suddenly I had this certainty in my heart and mind that I would be married to a youth pastor.  I remember being bewildered and thinking how strange that I would think that...but the thought didn’t seem to be from me. It was like a whisper in my soul of a future God had for me. It wasn’t until a few months later I developed an enormous crush on the guy I would eventually marry.  I another month after that before I found out his plans to be a youth pastor. I still found the concept of pastor’s wife hard to believe and didn’t breathe a word of it to Kyle until after he proposed.

I was in college the second time I felt a certainty from the Lord.  I came awake suddenly in the middle of the night. I was afraid and sure that I needed to pray for someone.  I wasn’t sure why or what could be wrong, but I just had to pray. So I started by praying for each of my family members, begging God for protection, but I felt no peace.  Next I moved on to Kyle’s family, praying for him, his parents, and each of his sisters...begging God to be present...praying blindly. After that I was able to fall back asleep.  The next day, Kyle called to tell me one of his sisters had been in a horrible car accident the night before.

So when this feeling of certainty came upon me, I knew I needed to listen.  I know not to blindly follow every thought that pops into my mind, but when I suspect the Lord is speaking to me, I know to prayerfully consider the thing in my heart and mind.  And this time the message was clear. Why were we planning to wait so long to adopt? Children need a home now. Why were we going the “easy” (for us) route of biological kids first, when the Bible so clearly calls us to care for orphans?  I gave Kyle a call and passed it on to him. “I think God wants us to go ahead and start the adoption process…”

He was stunned.  Asked for time to pray.  Called me back within a half hour to tell me his heart was telling him the same thing.  God didn’t want us to wait on this direction he’d given each of us before we were married.  It was time to start the process now.

The first thing we needed to do was decide where to adopt from.  With international adoption, you often choose an agency based on where you want to adopt from.  So we prayed and searched, looking at various agencies and the countries they worked with. We felt strongly that we should adopt from a place where a child living in an institution would be unlikely to be adopted.  In the end, the Lord led us to Azerbaijan. Very few agencies worked in Azerbaijan and they all warned us to expect it to take 12-24 months. I remember that felt like FOREVER...but we were confident it was where the Lord was leading us to adopt from.

From the moment we signed a contract with an agency, our sunshine and roses expectations on adoption took a quick downhill turn.  Within a few months our adoption agency went out of business because so many of their clients were adopting from Russia when the country banned US adoptions.  We had a new stack of paperwork with a new agency to begin.  

After completing the home study and gathering all the documents, we thought things were turning around.  We got our dossier translated and submitted and then began the waiting process...only to find out our agency no longer felt having an adoption program in Azerbaijan was viable.  We were asked to select another country. After prayer, we just didn’t feel released from an adoption from Azerbaijan. So we went to the only other agency in the US facilitating adoptions in Azerbaijan.  Our translated dossier was lost, the original returned to our doorstep. And so we started over again.  

This time it took over a year to compile the paperwork, get it translated, and then submitted.  And then the wait. Ohhh the waiting. It was excruciating to wait but even though we were more than two years into the journey...certainly longer than we expected...we were confident this was the direction God wanted us to walk.  And so we waited.

In the midst of the waiting I began to wonder if we were doing the right thing.  Life is hard in the waiting room. The doubts grow large and God’s voice begins to feel so small.  I questioned our direction. I begged God to show us another country, an easier way. Where would you have us go?  Where else can we pursue adoption? The next morning God responded with a resounding “Be Still” in the form of an acquaintance showing up on a rainy day to deliver gifts purchased in Azerbaijan for our future son or daughter.

After many months, another bombshell.  Our third adoption agency was not able to keep up with the financial requirements for the Hague convention and would have to cease their program in Azerbaijan.  We found out at the end of an incredibly hard summer. We had realized over the course of several months that something was wrong with Kyle. His ability to manage stress and pressure from work and life in general didn’t seem right.  We realized he needed to see a doctor. Through that process we had learned in the spring of 2016 that Kyle suffered from anxiety and depression. We began a process of counseling and medication for treatment. That summer Kyle had tried a series of unsuccessful medications that made various symptoms worse and significantly scarier.  At the end of an incredibly difficult family vacation, we learned of our third agency’s financial dilemma. As far as we knew, there was no other agency working in Azerbaijan.  

We spent the trip home that day discussing our options.  Choose a new country? China? Take a break and go for a biological kid?  It had been over four years since we’d made the decision to adopt. Did we hear Him wrong?

Then came another call.  Our second agency was willing to give it another try in Azerbaijan.  They would work with us. As we began paperwork again to transfer our case, we got a call from our adoption agency, telling us of a little boy in Ethiopia if we were interested.  How could we say no? After four and a half years, we just wanted to be a family for a child who needed one! We wanted a sibling for our boy. Another child to love.

Unfortunately this time the roadblock was with our home study agency.  Because of how volatile adoption in Ethiopia was at the time, they were unwilling to write a homestudy for that country.  He needed to go to another family.  

At the time, almost everyone in our families was pregnant.  My brother’s wife, two of Kyle’s sisters. And then me. We found out in October 2016.  Baby was due in June 2017. The joy of that moment only lasted for a few days before the bleeding began.  A little a first. Probably nothing. It happens all the time. It’s normal. Then a little more. It’s worrisome.  There could be a problem. And then the gush. And then it seemed to be too much. And the ER. And the ultrasound. “Your womb is empty.”  The day before the miscarriage, Kyle felt God pointing him to this verse:

“Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat.  

But I have prayed for you...that your faith may not fail.  

And when you have turned back,

strengthen your brothers.”

Luke 22:31-32

It was the lowest point in our lives up to that point.  Kyle’s diagnosis of diabetes early in our marriage paled in comparison.  I was angry. SO ANGRY. HOW could God DO this to US? Had we not suffered enough??  He had taken my plans. Kyle’s health. Now a child? I knew the questions I had to answer.  Did I trust God with my plans? Did I trust God with my husband? Did I trust God with my children?  My plans are not my own. My husband’s life is not mine to choose. And my children. Every one of them.  Every day of their lives. My children belong to the Lord.

I lost hope.  I doubted God’s goodness. I told him “I still choose you.”  But I said it with resignation. As if we were locked in a battle and He had won.  A few weeks after our miscarriage I wrote in my journal:

But what about hope?  That is my question.  

What about hope? Cause that word has been following 

me around and I don’t seem to have any 

and I can’t figure out where to find it.

This season.  Teach me to hope again.

However, by the end of January, my heart had begun to heal. In my journal I wrote:

Somehow you brought me through the dark days at the end of 2016.

I don’t even know when or how--only that I’m still standing and not by my own power.

And somehow, in my heart, I find hope.  As I cling to you and release my dreams one by one...there is hope.  How does that work? It must be a gift you’ve given.

Little did we know, on the other side of the world, our daughter was born that month, struggling but alive.  Experiencing the loss of her first family, the reality of an orphanage. And the hope of a God who saw her in her first mother’s womb and had a plan for her days.

And so we resumed the waiting.  Again, we felt that the Lord wanted us to continue the wait in Azerbaijan.  Now, however, we waited with a new patience and a slower pace. I learned to enjoy the here and now while waiting.  To enjoy life as a family of three and spend less time looking toward and wishing for the future. As 2017 progressed, another sister of Kyle’s found out she was pregnant.  All of our siblings (with the exception of my sister in middle school) would have babies born in 2017. Except us. Even so, we continued to wait. We stopped trying to look elsewhere for the child.  God led us to Azerbaijan...so from Azerbaijan we expected our child to come.

Stay tuned for part 2!