We all heard the news. The little boy, adopted from Russia into an American family, and then... sent back. The adoption community is reeling at the news, especially because now it may endanger the many Russian adoptions that are currently in-progress. As I wait - impatiently - to see my little girl, to hold her, and to bring her home, I am so sad about the uncertainty that many families are facing. And as I think about my daughter, I am even sadder for the many children who are so close to joining their families... will they get that chance?
The Joint Council on International Children's Services has issued a call to action known as We are the Truth. They have declared today an adoption blogger day, so if you have an adoption story, or know of one, blog or facebook about it today - so that the positive adoption stories can start to stand out as much as the sad ones. (Click on the link above to read more about the situation in Russia.)
Also, you can sign this petition, asking both our president, and the president of Russia to allow adoptions from Russia to the USA to continue uninterrupted. And you can pray. A lot.
My adoption story looks a little different than some because we still don't have our daughter home. But her story has already changed us in altogether positive ways. While the journey to adoption isn't an easy one, it is one that stretches our hearts, lifts us out of our comfort zone, and opens us up to the world beyond our borders. Africa, always a place of beauty and mystery in my mind, is now a place where my heart lives - because my daughter lives there. I am connected to Rwanda, to Africa. I am connected to an orphanage in Kigali, and to the tireless workers who run it. I am connected to a woman who carried this child for nine months, to that woman's family. I am connected to the father of my child, and his family as well. I may never meet them, but my heart is tied to them still.
My sons will not remember, most likely, not having a sister, and they will never remember not being an inter-racial family. Their world will grow with the addition of this little girl. They will grow. They will learn to have a sister, to protect her, to love her, to teach her and to learn from her. They already talk about her and pray for her. Last night, we moved Cory into Iain's room - now called the boys' room, so they would have time to get used to sharing it before "the baby sister" came. Cory asked me as he was trying to go to sleep in his big boy bed, if the baby sister was coming tonight. How I wish it!
And for our daughter... right now, it is almost 8:30 pm in Rwanda. She is probably sound asleep, lulled by the nighttime noises. She doesn't know that we painted her bedroom green, or that we already have dresses for her. She doesn't know that she has a doll and hairbows, or that I'm making her a blanket. She doesn't know how much we love her. But soon, soon she will know.