In my last post, I left off with us finding out that we had been selected at committee to adopt our boys.
We were in contact with Melissa, the boys’ caseworker, I believe, the next day to start arranging our transition and to discuss what it would look like. The boys were living with a wonderful Christian family, who are now dear friends. At the time, they had one adopted daughter and were in the process of adopting a baby boy. (Their home has since grown by two more daughters through adoption.) Their family is such an integral part of our story. There is no reason that they shouldn’t have adopted our boys. Except God told them no. They loved them and wanted them, but when praying, the Lord told them that the boys belonged to another family. The had the boys call them Aunt Abigail and Uncle Jonathan from the start to make their roles clear.
Since they knew that our boys were not their boys, they pursued another adoption and were smack-dab in the middle of the process when the committee happened. In fact, Abigail, the boys’ foster Mom, was in one of the southern states to be with the birth mother at the hospital. It was a chaotic and disjointed time. We wanted the boys to get a proper send-off from their present home as much as we wanted to bring them to their permanent home. We knew how important that was.
Melissa arranged our first meeting with them. She said it would likely be short and we would follow the boys’ lead. She encouraged us to bring a small gift for each of them, but a camera would probably not be best. That was so hard. We were never able to capture that first moment if meeting them for others to see. However, that moment is indelibly stamped into my mind and heart forever.
As we pulled up to the house, we saw little faces looking out the front curtains. Kem and Melissa met us and we all walked up to the house together. Looking back, I wonder how that looked to the boys. How nervous must they have been? K, almost literally knee-high to a grasshopper went right to Melissa, who lifted him to our eye-level. She asked for him to say his name, which he said in the most adorable way that melted my heart. She asked how old he was and he replied, “I’n two-half.” (Yes, I’n, not I’m.)
M was a little streak in my periphery who quickly disappeared. He was crawling on all fours hiding behind the piano. He peeked out and giggled what I know how was a very nervous little laugh. He scampered across the floor and tried to engage, but struggled. It was brought up that he had a bunny (we had already heard), so he brought Lollipop in for us to meet. We told him she could come, too, and a little barrier was lowered. He asked about Zacchaeus, his anole lizard, and we said he was coming, too. Again, more relief.
While we were interacting with him, a lady who was helping to care for the boys while Jonathan was working and Abigail was out of state, was holding K. He was “reading” the picture book we had sent ahead of time about us and our family. When she pointed to our picture and asked K who it was, he said, “Momma and Daddy!”
Melissa then asked M what he wanted to call us. I was bracing for “Shane and Glenda” to start because I didn’t want to push him. He said, “Mommy and Daddy.”
Words were not enough then.
And they still aren’t now. To hear it for the very first time was a moment frozen in time for me.
We stayed maybe half an hour. We had already planned a trip to Redmond with my parents and were going to cancel when all this started happening, but Melissa strongly encouraged us to keep the plans. “This is the last vacation you two will be taking alone for probably a really long time.” We arranged to have a phone call with the boys while we were out of town and left.
As we drove away, Shane looked at me with tears and said, “Glenda, those are our boys!”
We tried to have a “normal” vacation, but yeah, right. We talked about no one else the entire time. And my parents were thrilled with us. But Shane did manage to take Dad out to shoot his handmade potato cannon and Mom and I did our traditional shopping trip in Sisters. Near the end of the trip, we found an amazing play structure at my folks’ time share that had probably always been there that none of us had ever noticed because we had no need for it. Of course, we all had to pose for a picture in front of it so the kids could see where we take vacations.
Ready to grow our family!
When we got back it was time to meet with them again and take them to dinner, just the four of us. Abigail and Jonathan told us of a playground nearby and a good restaurant and sent us on our way. We buckled K into his car seat for the first time. We got Mexican food and ordered four meals. This CRACKS. ME. UP! Boy, did we have a lot to learn! Even now, with three kids, we order two adult meals and we all leave full!
I can’t remember if we ate first or played first. It was so surreal. And kind of uncomfortable.
Shane’s first ever picture with his boys
“K-man,” as we formerly called him
M trying very hard to impress us
We took them back to the house and it was bath time for M. I was so shocked when he asked me to help him instead of Aunt Abigail. After that was family devotions and their foster home could not have been a better fit to prepare them for us. They did family worship exactly as we had imagined it to be. Songs, Bible story, praying together…and as we prayed, I wept that evening in thankfulness to the Heavenly Father who does all things well.
It was hard to go home that night.
That weekend we arranged to meet at the local Children’s Museum on Saturday and then take them home for an overnight visit. We would take them back to their church for Sunday morning and then they could say their goodbyes that evening and we’d get them permanently on Monday afternoon.
But that Friday, I got a call at work from Abigail. She had news that could change everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. (I hate to be vague, but that really is a part of the story that is more my son’s than mine, so suffice it to say, it was something that shook us to the core.) Abigail was encouraging us to pray and was hoping that we would still take the boys. Wait, what? Still take the boys? Then I got a call from the case worker. She was asking us to do the same. I didn’t even know that was a choice. Is that actually a choice? They are our boys! My mind was racing. I called Shane frantic. We got off work and drove straight to our pastor’s house for counsel. Were we making a mistake? Were these the right boys for us? We were capable of helping these boys as they dealt with such enormous challenges? Our pastor was calm, peaceful, and confident. “Every kid has problems. Yeah, it’s scary, but the church will be here for you. You won’t be alone.” He encouraged us to pray and to get away. So we did. We drove straight to the beach and got a room at our favorite Best Western. (Yes, we actually have a favorite Best Western.)
After talking, praying, crying, talking and praying some more, we knew what we already knew. They were our boys.
All I remember about Saturday was that I was nervous, M was nervous, K was oblivious and Shane sprained his ankle badly trying to go down a twisty slide like a “cool” Dad.
Getting to know my little K-man
Our precious boys
We took them home and while driving our pastor was driving in the next lane and rolled down his windows and yelled like a crazy person, “IS THIS THEM?!?! Hi, Buddy! I’m Pete!” To this day, even though they now live in California, M and Bro. Pete have a very special bond we’re very grateful for him and his wonderful family.
We got home and the boys loved their room. And I was so glad because if they hadn’t I think I would have cried. We spent HOURS on that little 10×13 room.
We played with them, had dinner and tried to introduce them what we hoped our Saturday night routine would be. HAHAHAHAHAHA! (Weren’t we cute?)
We drove them to their foster family’s home church the next morning and were warmly welcomed as one of their own. It was a lovely day. M colored and K fell asleep in my arms during the sermon. My heart was so happy and full.
And we had only just begun. (Cue Carpenters music…And SCENE.)
Blessings and much love,