Goodbye, but never forgotten

     How do you say goodbye to someone you never met?  

    How do you grieve something that was never yours in the first place?

    Today I share with you some of the thoughts I have wrestled with, some of the confusion and hurt I have faced, and the reality we are embracing as a family.  I want to tell you all that after grueling conversations, revealing our feelings and being honest with ourselves and one another, and prayers for help and direction we have made the decision as a family to withdraw from the adoption process.  

    This did not come quickly or easily, and if I am honest the discussion began last fall.  Thoughts like, "how long should we wait?", "what does it look like to take on Katie's needs at 4 or 5?", "how do I continue to support my children through this process?", "what will people think?".  Some of these thoughts were wholly unhealthy, some were necessary, some were raw and brutally honest, all were difficult and all of them painful.  

    For those of you who have stuck with me and read my story, I apologize if you wanted a nice, happy ending.  Instead you have read about my journey of faith as I stepped out in obedience, wrestled with doubt, faced many fears, lost my way, and fell into the arms of a God who cares for me and holds on to me no matter what.  And truly this isn't the end.  Our journey with God is for a lifetime, for eternity.  And although this chapter comes to a close, I know there is much more that He is writing in and through me.  

    There is a song that I love/hate.  It is honest about how I feel, but it hurts.  There is pain, but also hope.  It is called Come What May by We Are Messengers.  Some of the lyrics are:

   Sometimes sorrow is the door to peace

    Sometimes heartache is the gift I need

    You're faithful, faithful in all things

    There is deep joy that You give to me

Where hurt meets the healing is a holy thing

I see goodness, goodness in all things

In every high, in every low

On mountain tops, down broken roads

You're still my rock, my hope remains

I'll rest in the arms of Jesus

Come what may

    I don't know what is next.  I am taking some time and space to just be in these moments.  To find healing, to care for my girls, and to say goodbye.  One such way I am doing this is with a letter to Katie.  I want to share it for myself, for anyone else who has had to let something go, and because I have been nothing but honest and real since the beginning.  So why hold back now...

    Dear Katie,

    Today I signed papers to withdraw our adoption process.  A family decision was made over a week ago.  I am still trying to process this turn of events.  This is never what we wanted for you, and in many ways, I am grieving you as if you were gone because we never had the opportunity to see our plans unfold.  

     So much prayer and heart work was done as we began this process.  We felt God at work in our hearts and lives as we prepared our home, our family, our hearts and lives for you.  We set plans in motion for your care, for your room, for accomodating you.  We relentlessly pursued the process and climbed ruthless mountains to complete the steps to bring you home.  

     Never did we anticipate what happened in March 2020, how could we know?  The world had not seen anything like it in over 100 years.  We didn't plan for this, we didn't know how to navigate the long wait.  We did our best to hold on to hope while living through great trials and finding our way in this new way of life. 

     Katie, we never expected this unexpected twist, the deep hurting wait, the life-changing circumstances, and the insurmountable obstacles of disease, disagreeable governments, war, and division.  But it ALL happened.  And here we are 2 years after these life-altering circumstances and we still can't reach you.  We can't help you, we can't even communicate with you.  Life is no longer the same, none of us have gone through this unaffected. 

     Katie, I am so sorry to say I can't hold on to this any longer.  There are circumstances that have caused us to have to change our minds about this adoption.  I don't want to make excuses...but I need you to know you did nothing to deserve this, it isn't about you or your fault, and although we are unable to bring you home, you are still very much loved.  Our hearts ache that we never got to see our plans unfold, we never got to call you daughter/sister officially, we never got to pour out our love and care on you.  

    This wasn't how it was supposed to go!  I am angry, sad, disappointed, and confused by it all.  But most of all, I am sorry!  Please forgive me because I couldn't do more and because I didn't follow through and become your mom.  I will treasure you in my heart and never forget you.  I am not the same person since I met you, I am better because of you.  I love you sweet, precious child.  

    I haven't lost hope for what God is doing.  I may never understand all of this, but I don't regret saying yes and all the hard things we have gone through.  He has shown me great things during this time and I know anything He does and provides is better than anything I could dream or plan for myself.  This was never about me or saving Katie (He is the only one who can do the saving).  These weren't my plans, but despite that, my prayer is that I would be ready without hesitation to say yes to God again no matter what may come.