He Prepared Me

I have been waiting...and waiting to post this blog post. The past two weeks have been filled with a lot of tears, laughter and smiles and I find it so amazing that everything that we do, on a daily basis, has meaning. Our thoughts, our actions, our interactions with people that we meet ALL have meaning and a higher correlation than we can't really imagine or grasp. I'll first go back to the beginning, the VERY beginning.

I was adopted. Born from, what I believe to be one of the most courageous women I've been blessed to know, and placed into a family who has loved, cared and made me into the woman and mother that I am today. Even as a small child I always knew I would be a mother and adopt. My child's heart felt I was "chosen" into my family and my loyalty stemmed from knowing that they didn't have to take me. They could have said "no" but I was chosen, picked up when I was 6 weeks from Alabama and brought to Texas. What I didn't know at the time, was that I had two brothers. We grew up without each other and although I wouldn't change a thing about my family, there is a load of emotional baggage that goes along with being adopted and balancing your love for your family while also yearning to know who you came from. Children need to know where they came from and I decided a long time ago that I couldn't handle anymore emotional baggage. I have always felt like I have had little pieces of my heart in different places and I couldn't quite put them all together. I didn't want anymore pieces farther away from where they needed to be, right here with me. This is one of the biggest reasons why we chose not to look into domestic adoption. Little did I know that God had been preparing my heart for the past thirty years and I didn't even know it.

Fast forward to a couple of months ago. Application in. Checks written. Ethiopia slows their cases down 90%. We were shocked but hopeful and two days later we were given to opportunity to consider a domestic adoption through a friend who was having a baby girl. All of the emotions came rushing back to me about all the reasons why I couldn't handle it as a mother. How could I balance all of my feelings and thoughts, do the right thing for the baby as well as my other three children who have been waiting anxiously for a sister and what if, God forbid, she wouldn't sign over her rights and we'd have to giver her back? Then what? I was broken and I didn't even have her yet. I kept thinking "But Lord? Why are you bringing this up? We have plans, we have a good plan! What's wrong with our plan God?". He was preparing us.  The adoption didn't happen obviously but Chris and I couldn't help but wonder what He wanted us to do. So we prayed.

So last week, Chris asked me to check with our agency to see what the status was for Ethiopia. We were extremely worried about the waiting period and we determined that we needed a plan "B". "I know you've always said that you don't want to do a domestic adoption Danielle, but why don't you do some research and just see what's out there". I didn't know where to start but I assured him that I'd see what I could find and get back with him so we could really figure out what we needed to do. The next day I found An Open Door Adoption Agency based out of Georgia from an adoption update email I had received. I scrolled through their African American infant program guidelines and sent over the information to Chris. He asked me to email the director and the next weekend we started filling out our application.

Such a different program than what we were expecting. The birth mothers choose us to adopt their baby, such an amazing feeling that someone "chooses" us just as I was "chosen". We'll get to travel to pick up our daughter with our three sons as well as be in contact with her birth mother. THIS is what God was preparing me for. We feel like we know what we're doing and have such a sense of peace about how we're completing our family. All of the questions, baggage, tears, more questions and balancing brought us here...to be the parent our daughter needs us to be.

At dinner the other week, my oldest was asking me what his sister's name was. I told him that she didn't have a name yet and he looked at me as if I had turned into a monster. "She's gotta have a name mom!", he screamed at my younger son. "Let's name her Lilly", he said. "Lilly-Grace!" James screamed. I like it...it's got my vote.