On June 5, we received an email for a sibling group of 4. Yes, you read that right - 4!! That same day, I received the same email from a friend (who's also adopted out the Indiana State system) telling me I should take a closer look at these kids. They're names all stared with D and they were 1 1/2, 2 1/2, 3 1/2 & 4 1/2. WHAT?!!?
Ok, so, I'm nuts to think it, but I looked at them and thought - heck yes, bring on the mayhem. BUT, the biggest difference between these kids and many of the others was......there was still a light in their eyes. They hadn't been hurt so badly that the light in their eyes was gone or dimmed. They'd been with the same foster family for 13 months. No shifting from foster to mom and dad and back again. The baby had only known one home.
We took a serious look at these guys (boy, girl, girl, boy) and after 2 days of praying and pondering, sent an email back to our SNAP specialist saying yes. Then I went into 'go' mode. Adding four kids was insanity, but I'd seen it done before (well, I'd read about it) and their ages were a perfect fit into our family. Ok, so they were toddlers, no prob. At this point, I hadn't put away the toddler things. I loved teaching all my kids Pre-K and Joy School and still had ALL of my homeschooling/preschool curriculum. I could do this.
My other 4 kids were all getting big enough and in the routines enough that they would be a major help around the house. We could do this. We'd started the shaved ice business thinking that with 8 kids, we'd REALLY need to have extra income to support them later on. And, there would be plenty of summer time help! lol And my house wouldn't be so quiet during the days or quite so lonely. It seemed like a great thing! We could do this.
The State's fiscal year starts in July. So when I didn't hear anything for a month, I figured they were busy transitioning. Mid July - no word. Odd, because they usually respond within 2 weeks. No reply to the email I sent mid-July, either. No word and no reply to the email I sent mid-August. I thought it was still odd, but the Lord's timing is perfect and with a new business, summer baseball, pool parties and getting ready for back to school, I had plenty of things I needed to do to prepare for these kids.
By mid-September, I didn't care if it was rude or prying or not, I needed to know about these kids. I'd heard that there were tons of requests for them. I knew we were being compared to 50 other parents. But I thought we had a chance. It felt right!
But it wasn't to be. A call to our SNAP specialist told us that their foster family wanted to adopt them. Awesome! These kids needed the love and stability they already had. I was happy for them. I was miserable for me.
I'd already smelled their hair in my mind. I'd felt their tiny hands holding my fingers. I'd already kissed their sweet cheeks and given them eskimo kisses. I felt them in my arms, crawling into my lap with a book. I'd felt that. I couldn't deny it. I couldn't even begin to cope with it not happening.
It took me a week. A week to process. Mostly because I felt like I couldn't call a soul. Everyone already thought I was absolutely nuts for wanting to adopt 4. How could I explain to them how real this loss was? How could I tell them how badly I was hurting inside? Even the hubs didn't quite get it. The kids were a little bummed, but not too much. It was all me.
I emailed my friend who'd already adopted. What do I do now? I asked her. She let me cry with her in emails. It wasn't until I saw her a week later at a Women's conference that I completely broke down. It a room full of 200 women. Julie hugged me and let me cry on her shoulder. I tried to suck it up and not embarrass myself. I dried my tears, we all finished our dinner and then moved into another room for the conference broadcast.
As I sat there and listened to how wonderful families were and how much Heavenly Father loved his children, the burden of not having these babies felt heavier and heavier. By the intermediate hymn, I went into the hall and sobbed uncontrollably. Every pain, every touch, every tiny little finger had a fountain of tears to go with it. I never knew how much you could physically ache for a tiny little person you'd never even met. I never knew my arms could hurt from not having these babies in them. I'd only seen a picture, but a thousand memories and hopes had filled my mind for four months and all of it needed to be released.
A sweet women over heard me and came out to the hall to talk. She chatted for a while, hugged me and left. It was all the distraction I needed. I'd spent my tears; few were left. I hung out in the back of the room til the conference was over. The women I'd ridden with were there for me as well. I made it home before crying myself to sleep. The problem with doing that is you wake up with a terrible headache and swollen eyes. Not so fun. ;)
These four D named children were no longer mine, no longer an option. What was I going to do now? I'd been so scared through this process that someone was going to get hurt; me, my kids, my future kids. How was I to know which child was to be ours? How strong was my faith? These for little souls had been a fabulous solution. They were young, teachable, lovable and didn't have teenage hormones mucking it all up. I'd felt so much hope for this process. Hope I hadn't allowed myself to feel. I'd put on a brave face up to this point. That bravado was now gone.
Where do you go after a loss? You turn to your higher power first and foremost. Heavenly Father had never lead me astray. The Savior had atoned for all these hurts, too. I mourned and then I sat back and asked Heavenly Father - OK, what next?
So I continued on with my life. I continued re-prioritizing, reorganizing, re-everyting. As I waited, the hurt became less. I really was happy that these children had a loving home, that wanted them. It made all the difference in the world. And I knew what I'd felt from Heavenly Father. Perhaps He was preparing me for something else. Perhaps He was testing me to see if I would do anything He asked. I hope I passed the test. I hope that I learned what He wanted me to learn. We'll see. :)
Until then, we continued to watch and wait. We continued to randomly look online. It was difficult, but not painful. Hope still lingered in the corners. And in our hearts.
