Growing up in an orphanage

This last weekend we spent with a close friend, family really, who spent 22 years of her life in an orphanage. Abandoned before she can remember, she has seen a lot in those 22 years.

I don't know all the reasons she was never put up for adoption, perhaps it was that because of her physical needs no one thought anyone would want her, perhaps it was because she is very wise for her age and she knew too much, whatever the reason, no family ever came for her.

Some of the things she faced growing up I'll never probably know, the things I do know make me want to weep, for no child should ever have to face the awful things she had to face.

Every time we are with her I am committed even more to encourage people to get involved in orphan care and adoption. She was never able to be adopted, but the people who came to care for her even while and orphan in many ways shaped the person she is now, and the Lord used those people to open doors for her.

We have been truly blessed by knowing her and by having her as our little sister.

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Remembering Elijah

On August 7th, 2006 I met Elijah. At 11:30 I got a call that there was a baby that needed admitted. I don’t think I have ever been more nervous. I knew that any baby that was coming up here would be sick. I couldn’t reach our translator. What if this was more than I could handle? After all, I had only been filling the role that a doctor should be filling for a few months, if this time was too much, then what?

When I answered the door with the nanny she wouldn't even take the baby that was being held at arms length by the orphanage employee, he looked terrible. I have never, even in textbooks, seen a baby this sick. When I took him I knew he wasn't going to live long. He was tied in filthy rags, but had a carefully tied red string around his wrist, the only sign that someone had loved him. I brought him up and unwrapped him. I didn't bother assessing him; I just gave him a bath and held him.

My first thought for him was a bath; I didn't want him to die dirty. When he lived through the hour I decided to unwrap him and look at him. He was so dehydrated and malnourished I could see his intestines. He was too weak to suck; even all my medical equipment for preemies was too much for him. He had an old scar on his belly so he wasn't newborn, probably at least 10 months, but he only weighed 4.4lbs. Eventually the orphanage doctor came up and told me they were taking him to the hospital. She was upset with me that I was holding him and that he wasn’t in the incubator, knowing full well he was dying and nothing would help him. They told me they would be back for him I prayed that the Lord would take him home before they came back.

The door bell rang again; they had come for him, more than an hour later. My heart broke, I knew that nothing good would happen and he would only suffer more if they took him. Instead of the doctors it was a couple from another organization who had been asked to come and get him and take him to the hospital. We waited about 5 minutes and I checked his heart rate. It was very uneven but that had happened several times since he arrived. We waited 5 more minutes and I walked them to the door. Before they left they asked me to check his heart rate again and it was barely there. I told them he wouldn't make it downstairs so we waited. Within a few minutes he was gone.

When he got here I named him Elijah. He had no other name and no birthday. For 5 wonderful hours the Lord gave him to me to care for and I have had few experiences that wonderful in my life. I was able to give him a name, sing to him, bathe him, and give him back to Jesus, I could not have asked for such a gift.

On August 7^th, 2006 I said goodbye to Elijah. I cried, but I was the only one who would cry for him. Perhaps Jesus will introduce us again someday, until then I’ll always remember those few hours.

Adoption, truly, isn't optional

There was a time that adoption was, in my life, about me. I was married, barren, and the last of our friends without children.

We gave up on medical intervention for my infertility within a few months of starting, knowing that God had another plan for us. Shortly after a young woman came into our lives who chose us to be the parents of her unborn daughter. We were thrilled, a little scared, but sure that we would be able to offer her everything.

We had hardly had time to adjust to becoming parents when the day came that she was in labor and, in one of the most devastating moments of my life, her birthmom changed her mind. I remember the loss as if I had lost a child in my womb, I grieved for the baby girl I would never hold, grieved for the baby that was not going to be mine.

2 years later, in what was only the Lord’s grace He gave us a beautiful little girl, who, when we met for the first time was already wholly and completely ours.

3 months later the Lord asked us to completely and fully trust Him as we met our second daughter’s birthmom, and we had a fully disclosed, open and loving relationship with her. A woman who to this day remains part of our family and part of our daily lives.

For all these years adoption remained about me. It wasn’t until all my plans and preparations for our second daughter’s birth did I finally realize this was about something so much bigger, this was about God, about our Awesome, Powerful and Mighty God who has a plan for each of our lives and who deserves all the Glory.

With that came new purpose, adoption and orphan care wasn’t about me, it is about the fatherless and our Father, who shows us that He LOVES and cares for every child.

My cousin recently said that adoption isn’t optional, for children. I found that statement to be awesome, for there are millions of fatherless children and not having a home isn’t one of the options for them, it may be a fact of life, but it isn’t an option. The only option they see is the need for a family, no matter how old, young, poor or rich that family is, to a child, it could be home.