adoption story [part 5]

I waited patiently for the Lord;

he inclined to me and heard my cry.

He drew me up from the pit of destruction,

out of the miry bog,

and set my feet upon a rock,

making my steps secure.

He put a new song in my mouth,

a song of praise to our God.

Many will see and fear,

and put their trust in the Lord.

PSALM 40:1-3

This story is our new song. 

I write these things so that you will see what the Lord has done. 

This is the last portion of Norah's adoption story, and it's been the most difficult one to write. You see, our great gain was someone else's profound loss. I'm only sharing half of this story, and I'm doing so intentionally. Not to ignore it, but because the other half isn't mine to write.   

It was September, and the due date was quickly approaching. A c-section was scheduled for a Thursday, and we let our supervisors know we would be off work. We still didn't tell our families.

A lot could be said about the months, weeks, and especially days leading up to the delivery date, but I will just say that they were hard. Hard for Tim and I, as we prepared for a baby while at the same time wondering what would happen. However difficult those days were for us, though, we know they were exponentially more difficult for Norah's birth family.

The day finally arrived, and Tim and I headed to the hospital bright and early. Norah was delivered at 8:43am, and her birth grandmother texted me a picture of her from the delivery room. Our first glimpse at this baby girl!

When we met her for the first time, maybe 30 minutes after she had been delivered, she was quiet and not crying. Her eyes were wide open, she was alert as could be! She just looked around the room as we marveled over how tiny and beautiful she was. We were head over heels in love!

Adoption laws vary greatly by state. In the state we were in, birth parents had to wait at least 12 hours before signing consent to the adoption, but hospitals typically wait 24 hours. Also in that state, once consent is signed it is irrevocable (in other words, it can't be taken back) except in cases of fraud or duress. Norah was born on a Thursday.

Friday morning, Tim and I had to stop by our attorney's office to sign some paperwork. We stopped at Panera for breakfast first. Our stomachs were in knots. We would know by the end of the day whether this little girl was meant to be ours or not. On our way out I stopped at the bathroom, and this flyer on the bulletin board caught my eye. It brought to mind these verses in Romans 5, which I looked up on my iPod on the way to the attorney's.

Hope does not put us to shame.

That afternoon, both attorneys arrived at the hospital. Tim and I excused ourselves and the nurses let us wait in a spare room, one intended for parents of NICU babies.

The minutes we spent in that room, waiting, were probably some of the most tense minutes I have ever experienced. We sat in chairs, angled towards the open door, watching and waiting in silence. If things were going to fall apart like they had the last two times, this was when it would happen.

Their attorney walked by, and said nothing. My heart dropped. A minute later, our attorney walked past and noticed how tense we looked. She stuck her head in, sort of laughed, and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Just waiting," I said. And nauseous, I didn't say.

"Okay. Well, we have both signatures so I'll be right back with your paperwork," she said casually, then turned and walked away down the hall.

Wait, what? Did we hear that right? She must have misunderstood. Or maybe we misunderstood. Did she just say the papers are signed? She must be wrong. Is she sure? 

Five minutes to an eternity went by, and she finally came back. "All right, well I'm going to run by the courthouse and get your temporary order of custody," she said.

Wait a minute.

"Are you saying that they signed?" I asked.

"Yes." She looked at me like I had asked if the sky was really blue.

"Are you serious?"

"Do you want to see them?" Now she really thought I was losing it. I said yes, and she handed over the paperwork. I flipped through it. Notarized signatures and dates were on the last page. 

I doubled over at the waist and wept. Sitting in that little waiting room, we sat in front of our attorney and cried. 

That day, we became parents to the most precious baby girl. We are undeserving, and our hearts are profoundly grateful.

Two days later, Norah left the hospital in our arms and we surprised our friends and family. And what a surprise it was! Thirty days later, we stood before a judge and he declared what we already knew in our hearts: she was completely, legally, irrevocably our daughter. 

Those were two of the happiest days of our lives! 

 

So you see, this story has a very happy ending. I always knew that one day we would look back and say it was all worth it. And I was right. 

The thing is, this really isn't just another adoption story about a couple who wanted a baby but couldn't have one, so they decided to adopt and it didn't go as planned so they waited some more, and then one day they finally got what they wanted. This really isn't our story at all, it's God's story. It's about our hearts, and it's about transformation, and redemption. God is in the business of redeeming seemingly hopeless situations, and redeeming ugly hearts who sometimes think He can't (or won't) do what He has promised. Spiritual transformation doesn't happen when we get what we want. It happens while we wait and trust, even when we have yet to receive what it is that we're waiting for.

God knows better then we do, and He is enough. I can trust, even in the midst of my darkest days, that God is working for my good. God does not make mistakes, God does not have a Plan B.

Two and a half years ago, my perspective of God was too small. He worked in my brokenness, and He will do the same for you, too. 

"Not one blow will be permitted to fall on your apprehensive soul except what the love of God allows. And you may be assured that from the depths of the experience, you will see untold blessings, and spiritual enrichment you have never before imagined."
J. H. M.

"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."
Psalm 73:26