The Story of Us- Part 8- Adoption Finale and a Journey Continued

When my husband called to tell me the adoption worker had lost the file, before I heard him say those words, I thought he was calling to tell me it had been filed with the court. The adoption worker was supposed to be taking it to court that morning- D.S.S’s last step- and the the court date should then truly come soon. We were in the home stretch, but then as I heard him say those words- that she couldn’t find the file so it wasn’t at court and no one knew were it even was- my disappointment ran deep.

It felt like a thread unraveling, the clock flying backwards, the ground crumbling. To have been so close, to think that day the petition for adoption would be submitted- and to instead find ourselves dealing with the loss of that, and facing the unknowns of how far back did we even go in all of this?

Panic. Grief. Angst.

And then, a few days later, the file found. And the next week, the petition to adopt filed with the court. We had finally taken a huge step towards adoption. D.S.S. was done- and it was now up to the court.

It didn’t take long then. We finally got the adoption date.

And it was only a couple weeks away, from when we were told the date, but that short time dragged slower than anything. My PTSD symptoms were sky high- being so close to adding a member to our family, when that had been so traumatic before, triggered daily panic attacks and constant battles. I wanted to enjoy the time before, enjoy the countdown and anticipation and planning, but while my mind knew better, my body remembered. I continued living in “maybe”. Maybe we would adopt her, maybe it would happen.

Then, the day came.

The adoption hearing was on Zoom, which quite honestly was fabulous. It was great to not need to drive through the city, figure out parking, go through court security, etc. of logistic hoops. Especially since the last two and half years had been logistic hoops! It was great to be alone as a family before and after as well.

That morning felt like Christmas morning- the boys woke up acting like it too, and their first excited words were, “Today we get to adopt her!” The rush of emotions and getting ready that morning were the best of suspense and anticipation and for the first time ever, I actually let myself believe this was really going to happen.

We logged in for the Zoom session, and waited for the host to start the meeting. And waited, and waited. It finally started 7 minutes past time- the longest 7 minutes ever! But then there it was, there we were, and it was happening.

We had so many family and friends on the hearing- one of the best parts of a Zoom hearing! Dear friends from across the world were able to “be” there, and the judge commented on how he couldn’t believe how many people were on the call! It was a beautiful reflection of our incredible community and support system.

I could hardly believe it while it was happening- the judge thanking us, the smiling faces of so many- the adorability of our three kids copying us in saying “Thank you, your Honor”. And then the amazing moment when she was declared to be ours- ours- truly, fully, our child.

When we got off of the hearing, it was just surreal. And honestly, that first day was so much thought relief and processing and the emotions took longer to come in. My mind was like a racing machine but with all happy thoughts and re-processing the new after.

Our friends support continued to pour out to us throughout the day- a dear friend volunteering to take our pictures outside of the front of our house after, and then using it as an opportunity to surprise us with a celebration parade of so many friends coming by in support. This same amazing friend then ordered pizza for us for lunch, and many brought gifts by. We spent the afternoon at a park and went out to dinner as a family- as a family. It was such a fun, beautiful day that was truly more amazing than I ever thought it would be.

And in the days since, I’ve continued to feel deep spirit relief, deep soul gratitude, and constant thoughts of a very happy shock and near disbelief.

What an inexplicable gift to have adopted her, and to have completed that journey.

And yet I know- the journey isn’t over.

The journey isn’t over.

“Mommy, remember I was in your belly?”

You wouldn’t expect it from a 2 year old, these conversations, already. But she knows about babies in bellies, has seen her brothers’ pictures of me pregnant with them, and her thoughts complete.

We pull up the photos, photos we’ve found on her late bio mom’s Facebook page, explain it to her. There’s the photo of her bio mom’s picture of when she was pregnant with her. “You were in her belly, and you were in my heart.” She doesn’t totally get it- doesn’t totally understand- who does? But it’s a start. “I was in your heart,” and she touches her hand to my chest. “Yes love, always in my heart.”

There’s a box in our basement, a box of things her bio grandmother had passed on to us through a social worker after one of the visits. Baby items, not in good condition and not with a good smell. So they’ve stayed in a box, and I always thought once we adopted and I wouldn’t be obliged to send them back, I would throw the box out.

But the box is still there, in the basement. And deep down I know it. I can’t throw it out. Because the story of us includes the story of her and the story of them. And it’s a story we will be slowly unfolding to her.

And I can’t pick and choose which parts of the story are a part. And I know, if I ignore the messy parts, I will also ignore God’s hand.

So someday, we’ll open the box. She’ll have just a few things to hold of something from them, something from before. It will be hard, it won’t be neat and tidy, but it will be right. And it will be a reminder of a lot- including a reminder of God’s hand.

His story gives us all hope for ours.