today i googled "how to move on after a failed adoption."
that's where i am, staring down those words on my computer screen... failed adoption.
i am struggling to move on, to move forward, to figure out...what now?
i still have adoption in my heart.
this is a fact.
i have contacted an agency that deals with another country.
i have reviewed several files, wide-eyed and with as much of an open heart that i can muster.
i took my time, prayed hard, and still felt like i couldn't breathe while trying to imagine these children in our family.
i'm not ready for that.
i'm not ready just yet.
i would give anything, ANYthing, to be able to adopt davis.
this is a fact too.
if i ever had a doubt before, if i ever, even once, second-guessed whether we could do it, if he would fit, if pursuing him was the best thing for our family, i can tell you confidently that those thoughts never had a chance.
john and i love him as our own child, as if he was formed in my womb, and born into our family.
he is perfect.
he is beautiful.
he is worth everything.
and i can also reaffirm that the Lord was with us every step of the way.
i never, as long as i have lived, never, have felt as close to God as i did sitting in a little orphanage in a remote part of russia, holding my lonely, scared child.
He was there with me.
and Happiness and Love and Joy and Hope were there too.
it was an experience filled with beauty, one that i will never forget, for all of my days.
so if things were so right and i was willing to do whatever it took, what happened?
why didn't things go the way we expected or hoped?
i don't think that's something we will ever know.
how long do you wait until you say "ok, i have to stop making this the center of my life. i did all you could. this isn't my fault. i did it all. i have to keep living. move on, already!"??
i wish i knew the answer.
this is way more complicated than i could have ever imagined.
love is a messy, complex thing.
i have days of semi-normalcy and nights of worry.
i have moments when i feel helpless and moments when i feel angry.
but mostly, i'm just sad.
and maybe it's not just sad for me--although there have been some epic pity-parties, let me tell you--
i'm sad for davis, for sergey, for isaac, for elden, for anya, for artem, for all of the thousands of children who have no choice and no chance.
i'm sad for the politicians who don't care, who never did and never will; for the other families who were in this fight beside me who are hurting too.
i'm letting this post get away from me.
i really wrote this post because i wanted to say thank you.
thank you for donating to our fund, for blogging about our boy, for checking in on us and for offering words of encouragement throughout these long two (almost three) years.
thank you for praying for us and for keeping davis in your thoughts and prayers.
thank you for listening to me rant about russians and orphans and down syndrome and adoption and all kinds of uncomfortable stuff.
thank you for EVERYthing.
i love and appreciate each one of you.
we are taking things slow.
we are working through all of this and treading ever so carefully towards a new normal.
our God is still here, as He always is, comforting us and loving us.
we are healing.