Today I’m choosing to give a glimpse of a personal journey that will, I trust, give those of you that have similar struggles, hope. I knew that I wanted to be a mom from a fairly young age. Maybe it’s because I babysat a lot, and just enjoyed being around kids and watching them grow and develop. Children are so funny and creative and authentic and real. We can learn so much from them if we pay attention.
When Greg and I got married, we started trying to have our family right away. I always thought that when I was ready to have kids, it would just happen. But, it didn’t. Since we were already in our 30s, we got checked out to see if anything was wrong with us. Greg was fine. I was not. In my mid 20’s, I developed a large abscess around my appendix. Apparently, I’d had it for some years. I’d periodically have a lot of abdominal pain, but early on when I went to a doctor about it, he made me feel like a hypochondriac, so I just toughed out the bad spells. Several years later, when Greg and I were dating, he came to pick me up for a picnic, I couldn’t stand up straight I was in so much pain. He took me to emergency, where I had surgery that drained the abscess and removed my appendix. I was told there could be scarring, but only 10% chance it would affect me getting pregnant. As it turned out, there was extensive scarring covering one of my ovaries and both of my fallopian tubes. I was told I could never have children!
I was devastated. This can’t be right. The doctor was trying to tell me about some procedure I could try, but I was too upset to hear him. After I calmed down a bit, I called him back and found out about invitro fertilization, where we could possibly conceive with my egg and Greg’s sperm. We decided to try it. We were blessed with success. I may go through the entire procedure another time, but for now, I’ll just say we were extremely happy as at that time the success rate was only 16%. So, that November, we had a little boy and named him Peter David.
We had always talked about possibly adopting at some point, and decided that when Peter was 3, it was the right time. We agreed on a foreign adoption and since Vietnam had recently opened up to American adoption, it didn’t have long waits. I always felt like God would lead us to the baby we were supposed to have, and this all felt right. It’s a shame how complicated and expensive the foreign adoption process is, I think it prevents a lot of good families from getting these babies that so need a good home.
We began the process, which included a home study, letters from friends stating that we’d make good parents, pictures of our house inside and out, and all sorts of documentation, all of which had to be gold sealed notarized. It took 9 months from when we started to when we could actually get our baby, just like a pregnancy. There were many similarities to my pregnancy. The immediate bonding when I found out I was pregnant and when I found out we had a referral for a baby girl. The anxious waiting until we got the baby. The thrill when I first held the baby.
Originally, the baby was supposed to be escorted here, but a few weeks before that was scheduled to happen, we received a letter from the agency in Vietnam, stating that if we still wanted the baby, we would have to go to Vietnam to get her. I was incensed! If we still wanted the baby? That would be like asking me if I still wanted Peter, after all the trouble we went through to get pregnant?! Of course, I want our baby girl! Now we had to get passports, and make travel plans to go to Vietnam, in 2 weeks! We were scrambling, to say the least. We found you can get things done pretty quickly, at a premium cost. We were going back and forth as to who, or if all of us, should go. Our social worker recommended that one adult go and the other stay home with Peter. We both thought we should be the one to go, Greg won and travelled to Vietnam to get our baby girl.
The trip was open ended, as we didn’t know all that needed to be done and how long it would take. Things operate at a different pace in a third world country. Greg was met at the airport with the baby in hand. Originally, he wasn’t supposed to get her until near the end of the trip, when all the paperwork was complete. However, there had been a staph infection in the orphanage, and one baby had died, so they were trying to get as many babies as possible out of that environment. So, my tall, thin, bearded husband front-packed baby Melissa Lan everywhere he went. He got a lot of attention, as he was quite an oddity being an American man caring for a Vietnamese baby. Local women were always offering to hold the baby for him so he could eat at the restaurants. The country was beautiful and the people were lovely, but it was a very impoverished country, which made Greg feel both sad and grateful for what we have.
He was there for about 3 ½ weeks. During his stay he was invited to the re-opening of the American Embassy and went to a Giving and Receiving ceremony. This is the ceremony where the babies are officially given to the families to raise as ‘if of their own blood and name’, and gifts are exchanged. We brought many items with logos on them (which we heard the officials really liked) and some really nice pens. We received some beautiful needlepointed pictures in return.
Peter and I were so excited when Greg and Melissa were to come home. They came in at just after midnight, so that day became known as the night Peter got to stay up all night to get his baby sister. My dear friend Kathy offered to come and video the arrival of Melissa. She and her son Chris, who was just slightly older than Peter, waited at the airport with us. Right when the plane was scheduled to arrive, there was an announcement that the plane was unloading at a different gate–at the other end of the airport! We made a mad run for the new gate, which Peter and Chris found very exhilarating. And, thankfully, we made it just before Greg and Melissa got off the plane. I was excited and a little nervous, what if the baby didn’t like me right away? My concerns were quickly cast aside as Melissa practically leapt into my arms when we first saw each other. Greg had gotten sick near the end of the trip and looked pale and on the verge of collapse. Peter was happily chattering to him and cooing at the baby.
After hugging Kathy who got the whole deplaning and reunion on video, I ran to get the car. I was so happy. Just a few years before I was in despair thinking I might never have children. Now we have two wonderful little ones. I’m so glad we trusted in God’s plan for us. Our family now feels complete.
I think of the saying, Man makes plans and God laughs. Things may not have gone the way we thought they would, but God knew better. By trusting and letting go and letting God, everything worked more beautifully than I could have ever imagined.