This is the continuation of my post on our failed adoption attempt. Continue reading to find out my biggest regret.
Where We Went Wrong
Things went fast for awhile, but when they slowed down, I lost heart. I began begging God to slam the door if this wasn’t what He wanted for us. But it never happened. We had a time limit because the Army was moving us, and the parental rights of the birth parents were extended time and time again.
The bickering over this baby finally came to a head one sunny afternoon when we got to meet her, and ended up outside the DSS office fighting with the “other side.” I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone.
In the end, God never shut the door, but my husband and I decided to walk away. It would take three more years for us to meet the baby girl God had always planned for us. And the adoption answered prayers in ways I didn’t even know were possible. It was smooth, fruitful and I was praising God’s blessings.
But here’s the terrible reality that I have to live with now. Maybe the failed adoption attempt wasn’t about us and our desires to complete our family. What if it was an opportunity for the other parties involved to see Christ moving in their lives? And I failed them big time.
Did I show the birthparents God’s unconditional love for them? How could I when my entire goal was to fulfill my own desires, regardless of their needs?
Worst of all, I think of the other family involved, who had probably fallen madly in love with this baby but couldn’t afford to adopt on their own. I have no doubt we were the bad guys, who swooped in to take their child.
I was aware of this imagery in the moment, but I kept telling myself ‘I don’t know what kind of family they are, so I have to assume we’re best for this child.’ Now, I WISH I had been selfless enough to meet with them and discuss their barriers or relieve their fears. I want to believe I would be willing to walk away, dying to self, in order to fulfill God’s will for that family.
A Servant’s Heart
I didn’t mourn the loss of that little girl very much, because I hadn’t allowed my heart to claim her. I stared at the few baby pictures we had of her until I had memorized her face. When we met her, she attached herself to my husband, who was actually her kin. She looked like her father. She was beautiful and precious and I wanted to care for her. But I did not love her. And I did not cry when we walked away.
I will always wonder if we hurt or helped. Why did all this happen? If it wasn’t about us, then it was about them, and I don’t think I did nearly as much good as I should have.
My advice for anyone entering the adoption journey is to prepare yourself with a servant’s heart. We never know the outcomes of our trials, and those enduring infertility and adoption surely know the burden of waiting. But who we are through those tests, and who we become because we endured them, should glorify God. ALL will be blessed through our obedience.
Let us be careful with our power and privilege, mindful of our words and deeds, using them to further God’s kingdom, not our own.
“For where envy and self-seeking exist, confusion and every evil thing are there. But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy.” (James 3:16-17, New King James Version)