Last week, I received the most unexpected and touching gift. A ten year old girl who had heard about our adoption decided to forego her birthday gifts and ask for donations instead. You see, Haley truly has a "heart of hope." Her mother explained in an email to me that her daughter decided a few years ago to use her birthday gifts to make a difference in the world. Each year, she chooses a cause that she cares about and asks her friends and family to contribute in her name. This year, she wanted to help us become a family.
"Haley has a real heart for adoption and has been told how expensive and difficult it can be," writes her mother. This sentence moved me deeply. It begs the question, "Who told her?" Who told Haley that some people struggle more than others to create a family? Who taught her to find satisfaction and joy in giving so unselfishly? Who modeled the kind of empathy and compassion this little girl possesses? Who raised a child so full of love that she doesn't need a pile of presents to have a happy birthday? And who gets to look at this beautiful girl every day and thank God for the miracle of her? Haley's gift is more than a generous check, it is the fruit of a well tended family. The gift speaks volumes about the power of the love between parents and children- the love Jamie and I wait anxiously to experience.
Haley is an everyday angel. She barely knows me...We were in a musical together this summer. I saw her as a pretty and watchful little girl, with a lovely singing voice and a sweet smile . She did stand out to me as soulful and quietly radiant. I remember pointing her out to my nephew, who was also in the show, as a girl who seemed really nice and mature for her age. I wonder who I was to her...
"Fantine," the character I played in Les Miserables is a woman in need. She is a poor, struggling mother who dies and leaves behind her beloved child, Cosette, whom Jean Valjean adopts. I found it strangely stirring to sing the words, "Take my child; I give her to your keeping," during the death scene. Each time, those lyrics would snag at my heart and remind me that someone, somewhere far away, would feel the loss and the relief of handing their child over to my own loving arms. It seems so right that little Haley and her gesture now truly connect that experience of the musical to my own parenthood.
Haley may never fully understand the impact that her kindness made on us, but she will forever be a part of our adoption story and our child will know her name and her compassionate spirit.
"To love another person is to see the face of God." -Victor Hugo, Les Miserables
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Friday, August 23, 2013
A Little Update
Another summer has almost passed, and I have little to report. Yet, our lives have been full and happy while we continue to wait for our child. Here are some highlights from the last nine months (oh, if only that was truly my period of expecting)!
In December 2012, our friends the Todoro's received their referral at the FANA Christmas party. They traveled to Bogota in January 2013 to meet their beautiful little boy, Luciano. The Christmas party is a more intimate gathering at our director, Jerri Gernold's, home, so this was a very special event to witness. I will never forget the joy that transformed Andrea and Joe's faces as they comprehended what was happening. For those of us who adopt, this is a sort of "birth"- the moment you first see your child and understand that he or she is forever yours to love. It is a miracle.
March 2013 brought the FANA general membership meeting, where all of us hoped another referral would take place. Unfortunately, this was not the case. However, we did get a chance to talk with Adriana Chavez, the psychologist for FANA's "Hogar Marguerite d'Youville," a home for mothers in need. http://www.familiesoffana.org/colombia/hogar-margarita/
Adriana is part of the team that helps match parents and children for FANA. Jamie and I immediately felt a connection to this quiet, warm, observant woman. It was somehow reassuring to be in her presence, and we were once again impressed by the integrity, compassion, and intelligence of FANA's leadership. When we saw Adriana again, a few days later, for the Todoro's homecoming with little Luciano, she greeted us by name and with a big hug. We chatted while we waited for our new FANA family to get off the plane and then both shared our observations about little Luc and his parents. When it was time to leave, Adriana embraced me again and whispered quietly, "I hope you have your baby very soon." Her words and expression were so genuine and touched me deeply.
In early June, we began preparing for the FANA Annual Golf Tournament, our biggest fundraiser for the continued support of FANA in Bogota, Colombia. This year, Jamie and I were able to be more involved and we served as sergeants for the children's section of the silent auction. This responsibility was a big time commitment, but it enabled us to bond with the other families and to contribute more to the organization which will care for our child until we can. It actually turned out to be much fun! So many of our friends and family supported us through donations of goods and money. It is a wonderful event that we are so proud to be a part of.
In July, we attended the family picnic that proceeds the golf tournament with my parents, my sister and her family, Jamie's parents, and our nephew Ryan. The picnic is a great opportunity for the FANA families to hang out together with grandparents, aunts and uncles, siblings, etc. It is kid friendly with bounce houses, games, face painting, etc. and includes a small silent auction of family themed baskets. Elena and her family and Adriana visit from Colombia for this event and the golf tournament. At the end of the picnic, they always announce the raffle and basket winners, introduce any graduating FANA kids and share their future plans, and then... there's usually a referral! This year, a Colombian family (living in the Bronx) received the referral. Elena presented them with a poster-size picture of their darling baby girl. It was a great celebration.
The next day, July 15th, 2013, brought the FANA Golf Classic at Wanakah Country Club in West Seneca, NY. We arrived at 9am for set up of our section of the auction and stayed straight through until clean-up at 11:30pm. Our day was spent arranging, displaying and labeling our auction items. At about 4pm, we showered and changed into our evening wear. My childhood best friend, Erin, and her husband Dan, joined us around 6pm for cocktails, the live auction and dinner. I was able to connect with Adriana again while we enjoyed the live Colombian music and dancing. We talked about salsa and my love of dance and she offered to take Jamie and I out dancing when we visit Colombia! It was wonderful to talk with her so informally and share a few good laughs.
We joined Deny and Ali Adelman, another waiting couple we've become friends with, for dinner and had a really nice evening. At the end of the night, there was another referral for Gary and Erinn Blaser, a newer FANA couple. They are now the parents of a sweet little baby boy.
Referrals are always emotional. This one caught everyone, including the couple off guard! Although we've all been told that the timing of the referrals cannot be predicted, the couples all seem to understand that there's an unwritten "list" of who's waiting and how long they've been waiting. There might be some solace if the referrals came in that same order, but that wouldn't allow for the true "matching" of parents and children. Ultimately, I think we all want that right match. But, for those who have been waiting (much longer than we have), it is difficult to be disappointed, yet again, when the referral isn't for you. Jamie and I had no expectations going into this event. We have been prepared for a long wait and are doing our best to keep busy so that the time passes quickly and painlessly. But, we felt terrible for several of our friends who have long passed their expected wait. It is hard. It hurts. There is nothing easy about any of this. Beautiful-yes! Meaningful-yes! Maybe, even "meant to be...," but, not easy.
Gary and Erinn's little boy is the right match for them. When the little guy was presented, Elena even said something about how much he resembles Gary! We share in the Blaser's joy and are anxious to hear more about their travel to Colombia and the little boy who is waiting for them.
The truth is, international adoption wait times are lengthening. The process is more complicated and arduous than it used to be. This summer we received notification that Colombia is no longer accepting applications for foreign adoption of healthy infants. Although this does not affect our standing (our application has already been approved and is in process), it does slow things down even more and make the future of FANA seem a bit precarious. Below is an excerpt from an Argentinian newspaper, sent to us by another FANA member, that addresses the changes in Colombian adoption:
The Colombian government has temporarily suspended the acceptance of requests from foreign families seeking to adopt children up to six years old. Exceptions have been made for children with a disability and those of an African or indigenous descent.
The sanction seeks to manage 377 applications from Colombian families and 3,506 applications coming from abroad, which are registered on the waiting list to adopt a healthy child under the age of seven and without siblings.
The measure was announced at the first meeting of central authorities in respect of international adoption, which is taking place in the city of Medellín, hosted by the Colombian Family Welfare Institute (ICBF).
Director of the ICBF, Adriana González, stated: “We are guaranteeing and prioritizing adoptions to domestic households, and in the context of subsidiarity, are successfully carrying out the most progressed ongoing processes from foreign families, who want to provide all the love and warmth of their homes to Colombian children in need.”
Representative of the Hague Conference, Laura Martínez Mora, who supported the measure, said that “this will allow the ICBF to work better with biological parents and respect the international principle of subsidiarity, taking into account that in Colombia, there is a large number of candidate families willing to adopt children less than seven years old.”
“This decision is a part of our obligation to safeguard the interests of children,” González concluded in a press release.
The meeting in Medellín was attended by governments of Andorra, Belgium, Canada, Colombia, Denmark, Spain, USA, Finland, France, Holand, Italy, Norway, Sweden and Switzerland. Chile and Guatemala were present as observer countries.
So, where does this leave us as autumn of 2013 begins to announce its arrival?
We are renewing our paperwork and updating our home study for the upcoming year. This is an annual process that is necessary to keep our documents current. Upon careful reflection and the strong suggestion of FANA and our social worker, we have changed our request to include a child up to the age of 35 months, as well as a child with a mild, medically-correctable special need. These are actually small changes, but they may open the window for a referral of a child who has been trapped in the system for awhile.
We are confident all will be as it should be and we are still optimistic and at peace with our journey.
Lately, I've begun praying for the birth mother of our future child. It is quite possible that she is currently pregnant, or that our child has already been born and is waiting at FANA for us until she or he is legally free to adopt. None of this is ours to know at the moment and we are at peace with that. Still, there is this feeling, already, of great gratitude for the gift some unknown woman, thousands of miles away, is giving me. She will make the most difficult, painful decision of her life, and through her sacrifice, create a family- our family. She is my sister, my friend, my blessing- and I love her.
Yes, already...I love her and her child.
There is a calm strength in me now, a preparedness that I could not have known before learning to wait. You might call it acceptance, but it feels more active than that word. I am ready.
For whatever lies ahead, I am ready.
For Unto Us, A Child is Born
August 23rd, 2013- I logged on to type an update and found this unpublished entry I had written in December of 2012:
"There is a love and a logic
That stand behind all things,
And the poet in me sees
How artistically appropriate it is that
That unspeakable power would express itself
As a child born in straw poverty.
That is why I am a Christian."
Bono
My friend, Beth, recently sent me this quote and it echoed my own Christmas reflections of late.
A child shall lead the way...
Words will never adequately serve to convey the grace of children.
I watch them with reverence as they enter my classroom this time of year.
A Christmas tree, glistening with tiny white lights stands in the corner of the music room.
I turn out the lights, turn on the tree and wait, a twinkle in my eye, as a second grade class advances down the hallway.
"I have a surprise for you..."
It never fails.
The gasps of delight, the wide-eyed stares....
"A Christmas tree?!!"
"How did that get in here?"
"Is it real?"
"My mom bought a tree that is silver and it changes colors with a remote control..."
"Yeah, well my tree is way bigger than this one; it's bigger than my dad!"
"We don't have a tree," says one little boy, quietly. I put my hand on his shoulder and bend to whisper,
"Now you do. This is our tree."
We decide to leave the lights out and we practice our songs for the all school Christmas Carol sing along. We dance with scarves to the Waltz of the Snowflakes. We do some serious work on the bass line to Jingle Bells, deciding together when the chords change from Tonic to Dominant. And then...I pass out the ornaments. As I sing the goodbye song to each child, they put their ornament on the tree and line up at the door.
This has become one of my traditions. And so, the Christmas season begins.
I feel fortunate to work at a school where Christmas celebrations are still allowed. We are a diverse population; there are 14 languages spoken and several different cultures represented among our students. The families are predominantly Christian, but we do have some Muslim families and one Jehovah's Witness family, that I am aware of. In the music room, we try to honor and celebrate many of the cultures represented at our school. I never want to push my beliefs on a child full of his own family's faith, but I do want to share the magic that is such a large part of American culture. The families of our students seem to be of the same heart. They, largely, encourage their students to be part of the cultural experience, the magic and the music, if not the religious traditions of the holiday. And so it is, every year, that my children at school renew in me the radiance of wonder, hope and innocent acceptance.
This holiday season, I am increasingly and almost painfully aware of the children in my life. As we keep inching our way toward our own little one, I am struck again and again by the gift this child will be. I'm anxious to share my own traditions such as grandma's sugar cookies, the Santa Claus Lane parade, Christmas Eve on Heritage Hill, and of course the warm glow of a decorated tree. But, even more than these, I long for the universal joys: snowflakes on eyelashes, tiny boots lined up next to mine by the back door, a hand to hold as we cross a snowy street, fighting off the cold over steaming suppers shared in a cozy kitchen, as a family. These are the joys awaiting- the wonder of the season witnessed anew through the eyes of a child. This will be Christmas.
But, back to the Bono quote. "That is why I am a Christian." That last line haunts me. For some time, I didn't know if I should really call myself a Christian. My religious views have evolved throughout my adulthood into something more progressive and liberal than I believed would be permissible in the Catholic church of my childhood. Jamie and I have always been seekers. We've attended many different churches throughout our 15 year marriage. Always we gravitate towards warm, loving communities who share our desire to connect with and experience God in our daily interactions. We've attended church not because we believe our God requires it, but because we yearn for the sacred time dedicated to living love and the helpful reminders and lessons that provoke our thoughts and conversations about how best to do this. Despite all of this, we had been churchless for almost two years as this holiday season was approaching.
Perhaps it is impending parenthood that rekindled my interest, or I had just been without for too long. At any rate, I found myself once again seeking a place to worship and inexplicably drawn back to the Catholic church after fifteen years away. It might have been a longing to reconnect with my "roots," the understanding that my family's history (at least on my mother's side) is tightly laced together by Catholic ceremonies and traditions, or even the knowledge that Colombia (the country of my future child's birth and cultural inheritance) is predominantly Catholic, but whatever the impetus was, I found myself at Saint Joseph's University church for the beginning of advent. Saint Joe's is very close to our home, so it was convenient, and a few like-minded friends had recommended it to me as "not your ordinary Catholic church." Sounds interesting, right?
I was hesitant at first, even distrusting. I do not go to church to judge or be judged and I was afraid that the dogma of Catholicism might overshadow the beautiful memories I had of singing hymns with my grandmother or kneeling serenely to humbly open my heart to God. However, my experience at Saint Joe's has been a pleasant surprise. Even Jamie, raised Methodist and vehemently opposed to the discrimination Catholicism has continued to support, feels comfortable in this church. It seems to be a very unique parish. The priest has a doctorate in religious music and is skilled at utilizing expressive and engaging music, speech, drama, and art to communicate the message of Love. Father Jack's sermons are openly progressive and liberal. The community is accepting, warm and non-discriminating. Oh, and I haven't even talked about the children! There are so many families that attend regularly. We love to watch them interact, to see their interest in what is happening, to hear them sing with their parents, or run down the aisle to meet Fr. Jack for the children's message. This place is precious. I honestly feel as though I have stumbled on a little piece of heaven here. I would never have guessed that a Catholic church such as this exists. But, it does, and Jamie and I find ourselves looking forward to Sunday mornings in a way we never have before. The timing couldn't be more perfect- the story of a long awaited child who changed lives with his great love...The gifts of this Christmas are abundant.
What joy we have awaiting us. What love.
"There is a love and a logic
That stand behind all things,
And the poet in me sees
How artistically appropriate it is that
That unspeakable power would express itself
As a child born in straw poverty.
That is why I am a Christian."
Bono
My friend, Beth, recently sent me this quote and it echoed my own Christmas reflections of late.
A child shall lead the way...
Words will never adequately serve to convey the grace of children.
I watch them with reverence as they enter my classroom this time of year.
A Christmas tree, glistening with tiny white lights stands in the corner of the music room.
I turn out the lights, turn on the tree and wait, a twinkle in my eye, as a second grade class advances down the hallway.
"I have a surprise for you..."
It never fails.
The gasps of delight, the wide-eyed stares....
"A Christmas tree?!!"
"How did that get in here?"
"Is it real?"
"My mom bought a tree that is silver and it changes colors with a remote control..."
"Yeah, well my tree is way bigger than this one; it's bigger than my dad!"
"We don't have a tree," says one little boy, quietly. I put my hand on his shoulder and bend to whisper,
"Now you do. This is our tree."
We decide to leave the lights out and we practice our songs for the all school Christmas Carol sing along. We dance with scarves to the Waltz of the Snowflakes. We do some serious work on the bass line to Jingle Bells, deciding together when the chords change from Tonic to Dominant. And then...I pass out the ornaments. As I sing the goodbye song to each child, they put their ornament on the tree and line up at the door.
This has become one of my traditions. And so, the Christmas season begins.
I feel fortunate to work at a school where Christmas celebrations are still allowed. We are a diverse population; there are 14 languages spoken and several different cultures represented among our students. The families are predominantly Christian, but we do have some Muslim families and one Jehovah's Witness family, that I am aware of. In the music room, we try to honor and celebrate many of the cultures represented at our school. I never want to push my beliefs on a child full of his own family's faith, but I do want to share the magic that is such a large part of American culture. The families of our students seem to be of the same heart. They, largely, encourage their students to be part of the cultural experience, the magic and the music, if not the religious traditions of the holiday. And so it is, every year, that my children at school renew in me the radiance of wonder, hope and innocent acceptance.
This holiday season, I am increasingly and almost painfully aware of the children in my life. As we keep inching our way toward our own little one, I am struck again and again by the gift this child will be. I'm anxious to share my own traditions such as grandma's sugar cookies, the Santa Claus Lane parade, Christmas Eve on Heritage Hill, and of course the warm glow of a decorated tree. But, even more than these, I long for the universal joys: snowflakes on eyelashes, tiny boots lined up next to mine by the back door, a hand to hold as we cross a snowy street, fighting off the cold over steaming suppers shared in a cozy kitchen, as a family. These are the joys awaiting- the wonder of the season witnessed anew through the eyes of a child. This will be Christmas.
But, back to the Bono quote. "That is why I am a Christian." That last line haunts me. For some time, I didn't know if I should really call myself a Christian. My religious views have evolved throughout my adulthood into something more progressive and liberal than I believed would be permissible in the Catholic church of my childhood. Jamie and I have always been seekers. We've attended many different churches throughout our 15 year marriage. Always we gravitate towards warm, loving communities who share our desire to connect with and experience God in our daily interactions. We've attended church not because we believe our God requires it, but because we yearn for the sacred time dedicated to living love and the helpful reminders and lessons that provoke our thoughts and conversations about how best to do this. Despite all of this, we had been churchless for almost two years as this holiday season was approaching.
Perhaps it is impending parenthood that rekindled my interest, or I had just been without for too long. At any rate, I found myself once again seeking a place to worship and inexplicably drawn back to the Catholic church after fifteen years away. It might have been a longing to reconnect with my "roots," the understanding that my family's history (at least on my mother's side) is tightly laced together by Catholic ceremonies and traditions, or even the knowledge that Colombia (the country of my future child's birth and cultural inheritance) is predominantly Catholic, but whatever the impetus was, I found myself at Saint Joseph's University church for the beginning of advent. Saint Joe's is very close to our home, so it was convenient, and a few like-minded friends had recommended it to me as "not your ordinary Catholic church." Sounds interesting, right?
I was hesitant at first, even distrusting. I do not go to church to judge or be judged and I was afraid that the dogma of Catholicism might overshadow the beautiful memories I had of singing hymns with my grandmother or kneeling serenely to humbly open my heart to God. However, my experience at Saint Joe's has been a pleasant surprise. Even Jamie, raised Methodist and vehemently opposed to the discrimination Catholicism has continued to support, feels comfortable in this church. It seems to be a very unique parish. The priest has a doctorate in religious music and is skilled at utilizing expressive and engaging music, speech, drama, and art to communicate the message of Love. Father Jack's sermons are openly progressive and liberal. The community is accepting, warm and non-discriminating. Oh, and I haven't even talked about the children! There are so many families that attend regularly. We love to watch them interact, to see their interest in what is happening, to hear them sing with their parents, or run down the aisle to meet Fr. Jack for the children's message. This place is precious. I honestly feel as though I have stumbled on a little piece of heaven here. I would never have guessed that a Catholic church such as this exists. But, it does, and Jamie and I find ourselves looking forward to Sunday mornings in a way we never have before. The timing couldn't be more perfect- the story of a long awaited child who changed lives with his great love...The gifts of this Christmas are abundant.
What joy we have awaiting us. What love.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)