In Pieces

It has been nearly 7 months since the Ukrainian government made a decision to allow us to be the legal parents of Alexander Isaiah and Ana Victoria. I look back and I can't help but remember how the people of Ukraine referred to our children as broken. I wanted to scream back that they were perfect, created in the image of God. But after six months home I realize that they were right. Our children are broken. Just not in the way the Ukrainians thought they were. Having Down syndrome does not classify them as broken. Having experienced emotional hurt and psychological disturbance has left them broken. And so, without knowing it, on May 14th, nearly 6 months ago, we boarded a plane headed for home with our children in pieces.

Once we arrived home we began to realize not only that our children were deeply fractured, but also what it would be like to pick up those pieces one at a time and begin to put them back together. On the outside it isn't always obvious to others the deep pain in our children's hearts. Sasha waves and smiles at everyone he meets. And while he is a friendly little guy, getting to know him deeper reveals the longing for someone to love him unconditionally...forever. You can almost feel him asking himself, "how long will this last?". And sweet little Ana always gets lots of oohs and aahs as people fawn over her beauty, but if they looked deeper into her eyes they might actually hear her screaming inside her head: "I don't know who I am!".

It's hard to put two hurt little babies back together when you yourself feel as though you are in pieces. Adoption is never easy, and I strongly applaud EVERY adoptive family. Each child comes with a unique and often heart-breaking past. You think that your love, your structure, and your faith will be enough to see you through. And sometimes it is. But other times it is not. What happens when the love you swore you would feel for your adoptees doesn't come like you thought it would? What happens when no matter what you try, you feel like there is no breaking through the wall? What happens when your faith crumbles because you are so deep in the pit you can't find your way out? What happens when you feel so far away from God that calling out to Him seems like a waste?

The answer: you look back. I know that there are lots of catchy cliches about moving forward and putting the past behind you. But sometimes, looking back is just what an adoptive parent needs. I look back 6 months and remember 2 kids who used to try to eat out of the garbage can, a Sasha who found every electrical outlet he could and tried pulling a cord out or putting something else in, an Ana who we thought was deaf and blind who cried all day long every day while sitting in the kitchen floor. I remember a Sasha who rolled on the floor crying and whining any time someone looked at him, and an Ana who threw every object she came in contact with. I remember wondering if I would ever feel "normal" again. If I would ever NOT be the crazy lady with those adopted kids who keep her running in circles and crying incessantly. I remember when there was no love, just a meeting of basic needs. I remember.

Yay orphanage life!

Look at Ana's left eye. This is what lack of stimulation can do. She does have a strabismus, but it was exacerbated by the orphanage setting.

Will you be mine forever?

But over time, something funny happens. Broken hearts begin to mend...one piece at a time. Walls come down...one piece at a time. Children begin finding themselves...one piece at a time. You begin to feel normal again...one piece at a time. And then one day, you find yourself in a toy store watching your sensory starved daughter shake a rattle on her face, and your attention-seeking son loudly hammer away at a tool bench. You feel the eyes burning deep into you, as you become aware of a mom moving her kids away from your clearly unstable children. But in that moment, you don't ask your children to stop their "abnormal" behaviors, instead you look at them and you feel it: the warm feeling of love that says, "you are mine, and I wouldn't trade you for the world". And the love starts to come...in pieces.

Now look at Ana's bright, mostly straight eyes! (she hasn't even been to the eye doctor yet either, this is just what the right amount of stimulation can do)

Sasha has this funny way of climbing into our laps and giving us this look that says, "you are mine" NOT I am yours.

If I could say anything to the Ukrainian culture, I would ask them to stop breaking perfect children. And because I can't, I will instead choose to praise God for the fact that His love does not come in pieces. I will thank Him for adopting us into His family when He didn't have to, and I will choose to love Him even when I feel broken and incapable of doing so. 

This month is Orphan awareness month. Please commit to help orphans. You are commanded to. Pray for the orphans. Pray for the families who are risking life as they know it to make one less. Adopt, donate to an adoption, sign up for foster care. Do not judge those who find adoption difficult, and support those who have to disrupt. Remember your Father in heaven who CHOSE TO ADOPT YOU, even though He didn't have to. And please note that despite the reality of this post, adoption has been one of the best things in our lives. We have grown in ways incomprehensible, scripture has been revealed to us in new light, and our family is stronger. Adoption will probably be in our future again sometime, but for now, we will continue to pick up the pieces, reveling in every moment. :)