Our Hearts are Breaking …
We are grieving. The boys will not be coming to our family.
Ten months ago, we got “the call” that brought two wonderful
boys into our lives. The referral brought our adoption process into the final
phase, and we prepared our hearts and our home to receive these two brothers.
In November, I visited them. In March, we took the rest of the family to meet
them. On Easter Sunday, our family of seven was together.
On Monday, we received a different call. The adoption
process had ended. The regional government had forced reunification, returning
the boys to their birth relative. It is among the most heartbreaking moments of
our lives. Like a miscarriage, the pain of loss, the pain of unfulfilled hopes,
the shift from joy to sorrow, and the feelings of confusion and questioning
dominate our grief.
To summarize a much longer story, the government has
determined that it is best for all of these children to remain in their region.
While parents have a right to relinquish children, and have made the incredibly
difficult choice to do so – even explaining their decision in multiple
interviews – the officials have seen it differently. At this time, the regional
entity has stopped all adoptions, regardless of where they were in the process,
and mandated reunification.
We grieve our loss – and we pray for Hamdali and Masad. We
pray that somehow, this birth mother, overwhelmed and under-resourced, can find
a way to care for them. We pray that they will be safe, that they will somehow
have even the most basic necessities that were previously impossible provided
for them. We pray they will know they are still loved and they have not been
abandoned, even as political agendas have taken precedence over the care for
these particular children.
In our grief we have dozens of questions. What? What will happen
to them, what happens if … what happens next … what happens to the children’s
home and the caregivers …. what did they tell them … what did the children keep
with them as they left … what do we do with this experience? What, what, what?
Who – who will care for them, who will advocate for them,
who is watching out for them? Who, who, who?
Why … why have these decisions been made … why is this the
position the officials have taken … why these kids .... why us … why now? Why,
why, why?
These questions may never have answers.
What should we do next? Do we look into ways to advocate for
them and make sure they receive the care they need? What do we do with this experience? What comes
next in our adoptive journey?
But mostly, we are grieving. We are grieving the loss of
this version of our family. We are grieving. We are praying. We are praying for
a broken system, for two little boys to know love and have their needs met, for
a mother who is overwhelmed, for a future that remains uncertain.
We grieve. We pray. We ask for the grace to trust when we
cannot see the reasons why nor the next steps to take.
We welcome your prayers in this journey.
