letting go

May 1, 2012 by nohandsbutours heart defect, Kam 4 Comments

So many aspects of the adoption process can cause you grief. The paperwork, the money, the general worry about your little one. I think there is a false sense of security in the paper chase. Something, somewhere down deep tells you that you’ve got this thing under control. You order birth certificates and schedule home study interviews, you visit the police station for fingerprints and ask friends to give reference of your ability to parent well.

All of this is well and good and you hit the ground running. Staying busy. If you’re like me, a list maker, you happily check things off of said list and feel really great about the progress you’re making. Documents and approvals come back in timely and some, not so timely, fashion.

Your dossier wings its way to China and you breathe a sigh of great relief, all the while your heart catches in your throat as you hand over months of effort to a total stranger. This could potentially be your first true experience of letting go during the months that have led up to now and the many that will follow until you hear those blessed letters spoken to your family…

TA.

But this week, a month after my first letting go of this process, I found myself on my face having to surrender again. We were DTC on 3.27 and have an LID of 4.13. Thus far, I’ve been skipping right along with this and not freaking out at all. Yay.

And this past Wednesday, through a series of jumps from one place to another online, with several emails in between them, I was given a link to a blog of sorts that has postings from our little prince’s foster home.

We knew from a missionary friend who was able to visit him in March that he is in a wonderful place. A foster home that is somewhat like a facility, a tiny orphanage if you will, caring for 12-14 children at a time. If I understand it correctly. The lady who runs it is not only a nurse, but a believer. You can imagine how comforting that was to us to know that someone with a medical background is caring for him. Not to mention the fact that we are like minded. It all seems to be such a good thing and we were feeling pretty great about his situation.

To the point, Kam. To the point.

I clicked the link and couldn’t believe it. There he was.

Our little prince.
At just days old.

Pictures of him that we never had seen and information that we had never been privy to. All I can say is, praise the Lord for Google Translate and better yet, for Google Chrome. I’m a Safari girl, but when you got 153 web pages to go through and you are dying to know what they say, you need a new browser.

I know, right?

So thank you, fine Google peoples, who brilliantly enable those of us who don’t have the energy to learn a new language in a day, to easily read about our children on the other side of the world. Yes.

Thank you very much.

37 pictures, {Yes! THIRTY SEVEN!} and 153 web pages later…I’m pretty caught up on the little prince’s life so far.

Uh. Mazing.

But then Friday happened.

As I popped out of bed, and sleepily pulled my iPhone off the night stand, just to hit the button and see the new wallpaper I had installed of our sweet boy, I remembered, that there was a blog I could check.

Like every stinkin’ day and see if there were new pictures. New info. New anything! “This is going to be great,” I thought to myself. Whew. I was feeling good.

But I pull the page up and read that our sweet boy was being moved.

That very day.

To a new foster home.

And my heart began to ache.

I was happy to read that his buddy, a little boy with him in many pictures, will be going to this new home as well. And it is with a real family…not a foster facility or a tiny orphanage. But to an actual home.

Still, I’m aching. Aching that he will have this transition. That this will be yet another relationship that he must learn to forge…and then learn to leave. That he will be in an environment that is new and different. And potentially scary. I mean, it must be, right?

My head is spinning and I’m taking it all in that our sweet boy is going to have a hard day. A hard week. A hard month. But in that moment, I remembered that he’s no stranger to hard. In my scouring of that website, I read how our baby boy was found.

On the ground.

In a park.

During winter in China.

Loosely wrapped in a single blanket with no diaper.

His umbilical cord still attached.

And a body temperature of 91 degrees.

My dear Jesus. Thank you for sustaining our son. Thank you for whoever found him there. Who may have heard his cry or seen him shiver. Thank you for this nurse. This woman who runs the home where he has been cared for.

Who, upon receiving the call about the little prince, came running when the orphanage said “no”.

Who, when standing in the hospital and hearing the words from the physician, “There is nothing we can do for this little boy” said, “I will take him home with me.” And that’s just what she did. She took him back to the home and placed him in an incubator that was donated by a China adoption charity. The next day she wrote how he had pulled through and gotten warm finally.

Reading those words about our son on the screen causes my heart to swell with gratitude. And awe. And peace.

There is so much of this process that we try to control or figure out or speed along. And there is so much more of it that we can’t do any of those things to. But this is know, in the midst of uncertainty and aching in my heart, letting go is a good thing.

Letting go of control. And expectations. And worry.

Our little prince is beating odd after odd that is stacked against him. To God be the glory. I’m letting go.







4 Responses to “letting go”

  1. Oh Kam, you gave me goosebumps friend! What a miraculous story of strength, resilience and GOD. Oh He is so good! Letting go certainly is a good thing, although never easy. I will keep your precious little prince in my prayers for a smooth and peaceful transition, bless his little heart.

  2. Kim says:

    This is amazing! I just thought the other day how priviledged I am too that I sponsor our daughter waiting in China and how we received all of her infomation since she had been living at her home through our sponsorship. What treasures to have this information to share and to know she is loved by believers who fight for her too everyday. I believe we have two very strong fighters! :)
    Blessings! May God be Glorified!

  3. Aus says:

    Wow – incredible – what we wouldn’t give for detail like that! such a Blessing to be able to give your child something someday…God really does provide!

    hugs – aus and co.

  4. Rachel says:

    This was a beautiful, and timely, message to me. We are in the paperchase phase to bring our daughter home, and in some ways it’s been good to have that GIANT distraction to keep me from worrying about her 24/7. These last few days though my heart has just been aching as I wonder about her life right now. The not knowing is hard. But your post reminded me that there is One who knows exactly where she is, and He can take care of her. Letting go is hard. Thank you for sharing!

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