We're Still Fighting

I have waited almost 5 years to hold my daughter. The anticipation for that special moment has been building for so, so long. I have literally dreamed of it - both waking and asleep. To say I had some expectations would be an understatement.

Not for Kate really... I know enough about adoption (and am friends with enough adoptive families) to know not to hope for anything extraordinary from our little girl. I expected nothing beyond her to maybe be scared, or to even be crying the day we met. We were pleasantly surprised to get giggles and hugs on Day 1! But for myself.... whoa did I have some expectations.

I expected to cry tears of joy. I expected a flood of emotions. I expected the first time I held her to feel magical somehow (am I alone in this?) Silly - maybe - but when you wait and work and wage WAR to get to something.... to someone... you expect that moment to be pretty epic.

I've been disappointed with myself for how my heart is struggling to engage. Don't get me wrong - I've experienced some serious moments of joy with our little girl so far! She is more beautiful than we ever imagined, and so much fun! We have seen little glimpses of her personality that make us so excited to get to know her! I am incredibly grateful that I am here - able to hold her - instead of still at home, waiting to meet her. But if I'm being honest - I don't feel like her mama yet. With the work we do, right now my "visits" with her feel a lot like my visits with other kids I love in our Children's Homes around the world. It is hard to see her as my daughter, Kate. Right now she answers to Namfon, and after every visit she goes back to an orphanage.

If I'm being really, truly honest - I don't even feel that attached to her yet. I know that after all these years of loving her from afar I SHOULD! But I mostly feel tired. And scared. And overwhelmed. And a little numb.

I've cried and felt guilty over it - even though I know plenty of friends who struggled with attachment to their adopted child. I've shamed myself - even though our agency told us that after what we've experienced (a traumatic adoption) - we might struggle to attach. But the more I've thought about our situation, the more I've started to give myself grace. Of COURSE I don't feel a sense of peace, relief, overwhelming joy and abounding love.... I AM STILL IN THE MIDDLE OF A WAR.

We thought we'd have our final approval before we met our daughter - but that day, along with our 2nd visit - were both overshadowed by the looming "unknown" of when we'd be able to take custody. And then, just hours before visit #3, we got the devastating news that our fingerprint refresh (that should have come in "any day") didn't come at all.

Someone in the US government made a mistake, and our fingerprints did NOT get refreshed. Honestly, my head is still swimming from that news. Before we left the country, I confirmed with 3 different USCIS officers on 3 different dates that all we had to do was send an email and request for our fingerprints to be updated. They explained that they would then forward the request to the FBI, and within 1-5 weeks, they would be "refreshed" in the system. At that time, we could take custody of our daughter. We were never, ever, ever told that there was any risk of it not happening. But of course it did happen, to us.

So here we are, in Thailand - at a time when we should be focused on bonding with our daughter - still fighting for our final approval. On days when we should be taking our first steps as a family, and focusing on how sweet she looks when she sleeps, and how cute she is with her Pooh Bear - we are still fighting for custody and visiting her at an orphanage. And on top of all that, we're fighting for physical health, as I have dealt with a migraine and 2 tension headaches the last 3 days, as well as nausea the last 2 nights. (It's amazing the toll that stress can take on your body). We're also fighting for our spiritual and emotional health in the face of all this stress and trauma.... oh yes, AND we're fighting for our daughter's heart. Every single moment spent with her we are fighting to connect, fighting to bond, fighting to make her feel loved and safe with us.

No wonder I feel exhausted and numb.

This should be a time for snuggles and laughter and tears and joy and "firsts" - and a feeling of relief that she is finally ours - but we're. still. fighting. This should be a time of peace, when we can lay down our weapons and enjoy our little girl - but the battle wages on.

Is it any wonder that I don't "feel" the things I hoped to feel? My body cannot produce any oxytocin (the bonding hormone) right now, when it is pumping out cortisol (the stress hormone) in overdrive!

We are so tired of fighting friends. We need to REST! But that doesn't seem possible. We are trying... we are trying. We try to carve out moments of peace here and there - but peace just isn't something you can force. Right now we can do little more than survive. We are getting little sleep, we are dealing with new obstacles this week, and we are so worn out. This is the reality for us. We are surviving - and right now that is a feat.

Today, our battle was in Bangkok. We were told that our only hope of getting custody of our daughter any time soon, was to see if the USCIS office here would do a new, digital scan of our fingerprints. So we hired a driver and woke up this morning at 5:00 am to make the trip. After only 4 hours of sleep, a 3 hour drive, visiting the wrong office, phone calls to the embassy, a whole lot of explanations at the front desk, and an agonizing 40 minute wait - we thought they were going to turn us away. We waited for what felt like an eternity in that office - hearts racing, hands shaking, praying fervently. We were barely holding back the tears when a door opened and an American woman asked, "Are you ready to get your fingerprints done?" I can't even explain how I felt in that moment. I seriously fought the urge to hug this stranger, or maybe even kiss her feet! (I'm not lying - the thought crossed my mind for an instant!) And when I turned around - Rusty (my strong "not so sensitive" husband - who has cried so few times in our marriage I can count them on one hand) was full out sobbing in relief. I thought we were both going to have to sit in the floor to collect ourselves. The nice USCIS officer (bless her) was so understanding. We tried to apologize and explain our situation - but the reality of it friends is that we are raw. We are wounded and weary - and barely holding it together. Thank God for this bit of favor today. I don't think we could have handled it if they had turned us away.

As we walked out with our fingerprints done - so relieved - and waited for our driver outside the Embassy, I heard someone call my name. I honestly felt a moment of dread - fearful it was someone from USCIS coming out to tell us bad news! But I looked up in shock - to find my friend Frankie, his wife, and 2 precious little boys waving from across the street. Out of the 6.35 MILLION people in the massive city of Bangkok, we just happened to run into the one friend we have here - at the exact time of his family's US Embassy appointment. I almost burst into tears again!

Frankie and I led a team on a mission trip to South Africa 8 years ago, and his family is currently serving in Cambodia. They came here to have their second child. I haven't had the chance to meet his beautiful wife and adorable kids yet (one who is just a few days old!) To get to meet them was so special - and to get a hug from an old friend, so far from home, in the middle of so much stress was really comforting. I'm so grateful God worked out the timing to cross our paths! I truly felt like it was a hug from heaven on a difficult day.

I am trying hard today to trust God with the timing of everything else in our case now. It's hard - so hard to trust - when we have had so much go wrong. We have already passed the deadline for the December 1st meeting, so we won't be home for Christmas. I am trying to accept that - but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also fighting feelings of sadness and disappointment, as well as jealously each time I see another photo of a friend enjoying this season with their child. There has just been so much grief and disappointment in our process.

But today - we are focused on CUSTODY - and nothing else. If we can just get these fingerprints in the system, and our Article 5 issued from the Embassy, then we can finally, finally, finally take custody of Kate. I do believe at that point we will feel a huge wave of relief - and be able to finally start taking our first steps as a family. While not home yet, we will at least be able to truly enjoy her here - and finally be able to do so many things we have waited so long for. Will you pray with us for no more obstacles, no more delays, no more errors, no more red tape - AND NO MORE EPIC BATTLES? Fighting for our daughter's heart is a big enough job these days. We will be so grateful when this last delay is dealt with and we can focus solely on her!

A Girl Worth Fighting For

I have heard adoption called many things. Beautiful, sweet, precious, kind. Most people think of it as charity...  something "nice" that is done to "help" a child in need. But friends - that couldn't be further from the truth. A fellow adoptive mom reminded me recently as she prayed over me that adoption isn't charity, it's WAR.

If you don't believe in "spiritual warfare" try adopting. I promise, your eyes will be opened in ways you never imagined. 1 Peter 5:8 reminds us that "Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." We have experienced spiritual opposition and attacks in the past, especially in the line of work we do - but I've never felt "stalked" by the enemy before the way I have since we started this adoption process. The truth is, adoption isn't "beautiful" and it isn't "charity". Adoption is hard, heart-wrenching, sacred work. Adoption is fighting fiercely to protect those most vulnerable in this world. Adoption is saying YES to enter the suffering of an orphan - so that their lives can be ransomed.

And the enemy hates it.

I can't even being to tell you all the ways we have been "attacked" since this process began. And the closer we got to our daughter, the more vicious the attacks became. I haven't shared them all on my blog... mainly because I didn't want this to be a place where I constantly complained. But the close friends who I've shared everything with, and the counselor I've been seeing have been horrified by what we've been through. I literally have had at least half a dozen new "assaults" to deal with each week over the past few months.

We have dealt with financial issues - both in the form of unexpected fees (or lost finances) in the adoption process, and in our personal income levels. We have dealt with health issues - for ourselves, the children in our care worldwide, and our families. All in the same week (a few months back), we had children we care for through the Sound of Hope diagnosed with tuberculosis, typhoid, epilepsy, and one hospitalized for an overdose due to a doctor prescribing her too much medicine. My back completely "went out" due to inflammation from stress back in October - landing me flat in the bed for almost 2 weeks. I was in so much pain that I couldn't walk, couldn't sit up, couldn't dress myself. It was unbearable.

The week before we left for Thailand, literally in one 24 hour time span - two long-time family pets died, our car had 3 different problems we needed to fix, my Great Uncle had 2 strokes, and my mom announced that she needed to have surgery on her spine while we are out of the country. (Hard news to hear at anytime... but it was especially hard for me to know that I wouldn't be home to take care of her, and that I would be SO far away if anything went wrong!)

In the midst of all these personal issues - we have faced more obstacles in our adoption than I can even begin to recount here. There have been delays, on top of delays - that no one can explain. We've dealt with lost paperwork, excessive requirements, innumerable errors in paperwork, closing agencies, negligence, and more red tape than you could ever imagine. Every timeline we're given - we surpass it. If I had a dollar for each time someone told us, "I don't know why this hasn't come through yet!" or "We've never seen this happen before!" or "that really should be approved by now" or "your case is really difficult" - we could buy a new car.

We spent our last few days at home (when we should have been packing and resting up for our trip) dealing with a new and unexpected delay/issue/obstacle. I spent hours on the phone with agencies and government offices - desperately trying to expedite our final approval so that we could come home in time for Christmas. Here in Thailand, I spent hours again yesterday desperately trying to fix the same issue. Today, we found out that our approval still hasn't come, and we will likely be stuck here for weeks - missing our first Christmas home as a family, and costing us more money than we had initially budgeted for this trip.

We're exhausted by the stress we've endured. There has not been one segment of this process that has gone as planned. Every time we experience JOY - it is quickly dampened by the news of a new obstacle to overcome. Every single step we've taken over the past (almost) 5 years has been excruciatingly difficult. And these difficulties have affected our marriage, our friendships, our financial stability, our health, and our sanity. This process has brought us to our knees again and again. Our adoption journey has been brutal. And it wasn't a battle - it is a WAR.

So why do we keep fighting? I know so many people think we're crazy. The truth is we don't HAVE to do this. We could probably get pregnant if we "just wanted to have a baby" (we don't know because we haven't tried). But we have believed this whole time, with all our hearts, that our baby girl is in Thailand. And we believe that SHE is a girl worth fighting for.

It isn't crazy to willingly walk into battle if you believe in what you're fighting for. Much like the Armed Forces in our wonderful country (God bless our men and women in uniform!) - we entered this war willingly. This wasn't a draft. We CHOSE to "enlist". That's what people do when they believe that they have something worth fighting for.

The week before we left for Thailand, I spent some time catching up with another adoptive mom. As we shared our hearts, and I recounted some of my latest struggles she asked me - "Knowing what you know now... would you do it all again?" Without hesitation - I said YES.

YES. Not because I want to endure these things. Not because I have to. But because parents do whatever they have to do to get to their child.

If you're a mom or a dad reading this right now... what would you do to get to your son or daughter? If someone kidnapped them... how much would you pay? What would you endure to get them back? What lengths would you go to - to ensure their safe return?

I see our journey in that light - much more than I see it any other way. That little girl whose picture we've held in our hands for 7 months is our daughter. And I don't feel like I'm fighting for the sake of "some adoption" - I feel like I am fighting to protect the life of my daughter. And all that this has cost us? This is her ransom.

I shudder to think what Kate's life would look like if she was not adopted. The past few days in this city, I have seen her in the eyes of so many young women I've crossed paths with. I wonder if she would have ended up on Walking Street... one of the worst Red Light Districts in the world (less than 3 miles away from her orphanage). I wonder if she would have ended up working some dead-end job... struggling to make ends meet. I wonder if she would have gone on to University and gotten a good job - but come home every night to an empty apartment, and endured every holiday alone year after year.

I think of how empty and lonely and frightening my life would be without my parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins. I cannot imagine our little girl - or any child - enduring a lifetime utterly alone in this world.

And so, we keep fighting. We keep fighting so that Kate never has to be alone. We keep fighting so that Kate never has to feel unloved. We keep fighting so that Kate has a family, a future, and an inheritance that she could not get any other way. We keep fighting because she is a girl worth fighting for. We keep fighting - because EVERY child is worth fighting for.

Last year, I read this blog about adoption and foster care, and what was written there has wedged it's way deep into my heart. It has been the single most encouraging thing I've read - and I have come back to it on many dark, hard days. Jason Johnson talks here about how saying YES to the suffering that comes with adoption - is very similar to the YES Jesus exclaimed when he was faced with the cross. He said YES - not because He had to. No one forced Him to endure that pain and suffering. But Jesus said YES out of His enduring love for us... because it was the only way to redeem our lives.

When Jesus said YES to the cross - "It was Him willingly choosing the cost of our joy over the price of His pain."

If there had been any other way, he would have taken it. He asked that the cup pass from Him, but ultimately He drank it willingly. And so, I have been reminded of God's love for me each time I've chosen to once again drink from that cup of suffering on behalf of my daughter.

"The truth is that God is using you, a mere human, to solve a seemingly insurmountable human problem. Confusion, frustration and exhaustion are inevitable and unavoidable - but He is faithful and good and right there with you. The gospel doesn't guarantee that everything will be easy, but it does guarantee that there's hope, and that no matter what, Jesus is worth it and so is what you're doing for these kids."  - Jason Johnson

We say YES to the struggle, the suffering, the brokenness, the attacks, the pain, the stress - out of love for Kate. And friends, this world needs more people who will say YES to endure a season of pain and hardship - so that other precious children don't have to endure a lifetime of being an orphan. We need more soldiers, willing to go to battle on behalf of these kids!

We said YES out of love for Kate, and we will keep saying YES. (This doesn't mean Kate is indebted to us in any way. This doesn't make us Kate's savior. This doesn't make us super-human. But I hope it does make us a little more like Jesus, because He is someone I do aspire to be like.)

But the truth is friends, this WAR is far from over. It didn't end when we got matched with our daughter... it only intensified. And it didn't end when we flew to Thailand... we have dealt with another round of attacks this week. And it won't end when we meet Kate... or when we take custody of her... or even when we come home. There are many battles in this war, and some we have won... but others we still have yet to fight. Because ultimately - this is a war for our daughter's life, her heart, and her future.

We hope you will continue to "wage war" with us in prayer - as we meet our daughter this week, as we take our first steps as a family of three, and in the months and years to come as we continue to fight for Kate's heart. This is an epic war... and we are weary, but resolved. We will never surrender because we know we have something - someone - worth fighting for.