When we first started along this adoption road, we felt led to search for an African American sibling group, either a boy and a girl or two boys. Every once in a while, Ryan would look at me as we perused profiles and say, "You know. Every time I've ever thought of adopting, I've always thought of us adopting a white baby girl." I would kind of roll my eyes and remind him of my our plans and the direction we were heading, not to mention the small likelihood of us ever getting a caucasian female newborn without first going through an adoption agency.
It's not that I didn't want a caucasian baby girl - I'm happy with whatever God gives us. I've just always had this idea that we would be bringing our child home from either a third world country, or older siblings from a minority group in the states that are harder to place.
Time and time again God has shown me that it doesn't matter what I want or think will happen - He's going to do what He wants. Apparently He doesn't need my help in the process. Slowly the plan has changed and evolved...from focus on International adoption, to adoption from foster care. From Interstate adoption to focusing on kids within our state's boundaries. From adoption from foster care to emergency placement and respite. From only sibling groups to individuals. From only boys around the age of 6 to any gender and any age under 7.
I'm learning expectations are saboteurs of faith, but living arms wide open, expectant and ready allows God to write you into stories you couldn't possibly have dreamt up yourself.
Five days after my last post and two weeks after we told our caseworker we were open to pretty much anything, including infants, I got a call on a Sunday afternoon from a CPS worker. She mentioned she had talked to our caseworker who recommended our family as a perfect placement for the child she was advocating for. And the placement?
A four week old caucasian baby girl.
My heart nearly stopped.
I took a deep breath and said, "Yes, I would like to hear more."
There wasn't much to tell. Baby girl was four weeks old and in a Spokane hospital scheduled to be discharged the next morning. Baby's mother was nineteen and living in Missoula with no known history of substance abuse, and could I please make this decision within the hour?
I said I would need to talk to my husband but I could be fairly certain I knew what he would say. I immediately called Ryan and told him the news.
*Silence*
Then: "You know what I'm going to say." "Yep." I replied. "Just needed to make sure." And with those words, our lives were flipped upside down for the second time.
Most people get ten months or more to get used to the idea of a newborn. I had less than twenty-four hours. By five the next evening I was holding the teeniest, scrunch-faced, tiny little girl I'd ever seen in person. She weighed a hair under seven pounds (two pounds less than my lightest baby at birth), had a pinched little face and eyes perpetually crossed and locked into an expression of shock...Like she still couldn't quite believe the road she'd already been on. She had toddler bite marks on both arms, a huge nasty scab on her nose and small puncture wounds on her scalp. She had been in Spokane for blunt force trauma and a small brain bleed. Other than her wounds, I knew practically nothing about this child, except for her name - and even that we didn't know how to pronounce correctly for almost a week.
The first few days were overwhelming, and as I recall them now, a bit fuzzy. It's hard when you can't decipher cries and your body isn't sending cues when it's time to feed the little one. She wasn't very hungry, eating only one to two ounces at a time. The first night she was up every two hours for feedings and would only fall asleep for naps the first couple days if I walked her in the Ergo. But moment by moment, hour by hour, feeding by feeding we started to adjust.
LeyAna Grace (pronounced "Lay-Ahna") has now been with us for a month. She eats four or five ounces every three to four hours, has gained over two pounds and last night slept for a solid eight hours. (Proof that miracles do, indeed, still occur.) She will sleep just about anywhere, through just about anything - even the unwanted slobbery affections of a four month old golden. She is oh-so-close to smiling, her eyes clear and focusing correctly. Her wounds have healed and only a small w-shaped scar is left on her nose to remind us of her trauma.
Even though tired, I've moved out of the walking-dead zone and come back to land of the living. Our schedule has settled into place and the kids are so great, jumping at chances to feed, hold or fetch.
Twice a week I drop LeyAna off for a two-hour visit with her mother and a CPS worker returns her home. Each time Georgia asks "where her baby go?" and each time I say she will be home soon. Last week the judge ordered LeyAna to remain in foster care for at least six months while her mother works on a treatment plan. There is a lot of relief knowing that even though it may not be forever, we do have some time.
So, how are we doing?
We are - all of us - emphatically, blissfully and completely in love. My love for Ryan has grown a thousand fold as I watch him pour himself into this little life. He is teaching me the meaning of selfless compassion and love. He tearfully nicknamed her "Heartbreaker" - because if she leaves she will be taking the little shreds of our hearts with her. This experience is as peaceful, sweet and healing as our last was anxious, heavy and traumatic.
God is so good. He knew she needed us and we needed her. Loved ones have warned me against loving her too deeply or letting my mind go where our hearts desperately want to. But that's not how I was made and honestly I have never seen anywhere in the bible where it says to love partially or hold back. LeyAna has one hundred percent of my love and God has one hundred percent of my trust - either to bless us permanently with her snuggles or to heal our wounded hearts when we give her back. I trust Him with all of it. Our present. Her future.
Resting on the waves of His sovereignty brings so much more peace than fighting for the future I can't change or do anything about. There is peace in the unknown. There is new life from brokenness and death. This is my prayer for our hearts and LeyAna's life...That the scarred places soften and yield to His new life and all the possibilities it contains.
All is grace (even her middle name),
Carie
