True Vine Tuesday: The Other Side of Fear

My family's journey into the world of adoption felt long and tedious (much like the stories you hear from grandparents about walking to school in the snow, uphill both ways). The decision to adopt was made very quickly on my part. God instantly planted a seed in my heart the day I saw a family in my church with two children they adopted internationally. I knew my family plan would now include a mix of children who were adopted and biological.  When I met my husband and I informed him of my plan, he agreed.  We were young and in no rush to begin building a family.  

Fast forward to the beginning of our marriage and the start of our family. I still planned to build our family both through adoption and giving birth. After I became pregnant with our third child, my husband decided he was not on board with adding any more children to our family. For the next five years or so, we argued over adoption. I knew down to my core we were called to adopt. My husband did not agree. His fear was the loudest voice he could hear.  

Eventually, at the perfect time, God moved in my husband’s heart and he agreed we could explore adoption. Funny enough, the moment my husband relented, I was struck with fear—so much so I still can go back to that moment and clearly see my hand physically shaking as I texted a friend (an adoptive mom) to ask for guidance.  

My friend began to send me screenshots of kids' profiles who were waiting for their forever families. I will never forget the moment I saw the picture of my daughter for the first time. It is so hard to explain how, but I knew she was my daughter. Something in my heart leapt or shifted. I just knew. From that moment on, I moved as fast as I could to get to her. I analyzed every picture and video of her. I imagined holding her. I daydreamed about what she would be like. I “nested” just like I did when I was pregnant.  

I also began to imagine how she would feel. Would she like us? Would she be afraid of us?  

Finally, it was time to meet her. I was not prepared for how little she was. How fragile. Her size, weight, and development did not line up with her physical age.  

She was brought to meet us not by those who cared for her daily, but by strangers. Her big, beautiful, tear-stained eyes looked at us with fear. She was not at all ready to be given to us—more strangers.    

We came bearing gifts, but she was not impressed. Eventually she took a sucker I offered and she went to my older daughter. My husband took videos and pictures, and I listened intently to learn everything I could about our new daughter. She had a file, and information was read to us. But the file would stay with the orphanage; we could not take it with us.
 
I am pretty sure our daughter was in shock for the first 24-28 hours. She did not do very much at all. We worked hard to care for her and show her we were safe and there to offer her love. When she began to take food from us, she ate and ate. She took all the food we gave her. She also began to smile and enjoy all of the attention we showered on her.  

Even though she had recently begun walking in the orphanage, she would not walk. She wanted to be held and carried everywhere. She wanted to sleep on top of me. Beside me simply was not good enough—she became a velcro kid. She was with us for an entire week before she began to walk around and explore. Those early days were hard. Reverting to having a child in diapers once we'd passed that phase was hard. Waking every hour with a young child when we'd been used to children who sleep all night was even harder. Distinguishing what behaviors were (are) attachment issues, trauma, or just typical kid behaviors was (is) the hardest. And having different professionals give conflicting advice made our heads spin. It was confusing and overwhelming; we felt like new parents.      

As much as I worked to learn and prepare myself and my family, nothing could have adequately prepared us for this journey. We are much further down the road now. As I look back, there are so many emotions. Parenting any child is not for the faint of heart. My husband and I each worried we would not have what it takes to parent a child who is not biologically ours. Now we’ve experienced the journey and we love our daughter just as much as we love all of our other children. We still worry sometimes that we do not have what it takes. But we have also learned the best parts of life are on the other side of fear.

We worry we don’t have what it takes for many things, not just parenting. And God has shown us that when we say yes and take that first step, we don’t need to be prepared for the whole journey. There is no way we ever could be. We just need to take one step at a time, make sure we are always holding our Father’s hand, and following his lead.