"Adoption is not for the weak..."

I want to puke. It can't be real. The familiar pains in every part of my body. Screaming won't help. Tried chocolate...didn't help. The only thing that gets you through grief is going straight through it. Nothing else. But I hate it. I'm sick of it. I don't want to do it. But I asked for it.

Yesterday started as an ordinary day. No sleep as the baby kept me up for going on the 8th week in a row. Mike came home from work, did the dishes quietly as we slept on the couch. I sleep on my back with her laying on my chest. Her fresh, soft baby hair, tickles the underside of my nose. There's no better feeling. "MOM!! I don't have any underwear!!" Tyler interrupts. Yeah, so laundry has taken a back seat, along with most of the household chores since little Evie has entered our world. I find myself most weekdays doing one load with exactly one outfit for everyone JUST so that we have enough to make it. I get off the couch to look for Ty's underwear with Evie in my left hand, still sound asleep. I've re-learned the skill of doing everything one handed. Laundry, bottle washing, lunch packing, typing, all kinds of stuff. It takes twelve times as long, but as long as I can hold the baby and get something done...I just don't want to put her down. She doesn't want to be put down either. It's this deal we both have. We kinda' like each other.

Eventually we head for Tacoma so Evie can visit her birth parents. We've done this twice a week for the 8 weeks she's been with us. We take her into the Youth for Christ office where her parents come, we talk for a brief minute, they take her into a supervised visitation room, and then we go shopping, to the beach, Costco, whatever for 2 hrs. and then come and pick her up. Our Social Worker from the agency works in that building. She's a great gal, that Ciara. She answers any question we might have instantly by text, she's got great style and she loves the Sounders.

We knew going up to the office this time that Ciara wanted to talk to both of us. This could be good or bad. In not typical Mike and Darbi fashion, Mike thought good, I thought bad. As we reached the exit, I was in tears. Mike reached his hand over to me and grabbed mine.

"What's wrong?"

"I just don't know what she could want to talk about besides bad news and I just don't want any."

"Do you want to pray about it?"

"You pray. I can't."

"But I'm driving, so I can't. You have to."

Silence...

"(through tears, in my ugly voice,) God, be with us, whatever it is. Continue to be our strength."

And then it happened. We walked into the office, were seated on a couch and told the news. That Evie would be moved to her Aunts house, and that it would't be in a couple of months like we thought could happen, it would be in a couple of days. And the grief begins...

This is not supposed to be a sad story. Evie is going to a great home. She will be raised with her cousins and her Aunt will adopt her if her parents can't pull it together. Her Aunt is experienced with her own family and has already set very clear boundaries with the birth parents as to visits and what-not. She is going to be just fine. She's just not going to be ours.

Another part to this story is that before we left the building, tears still in my eyes and Evie in my arms, they had us talk to the placement coordinator about what kind of baby we would like next and how soon we would be ready. We said SOON. We could have a new one before you all realize she's gone. But it still won't be her and it won't make it easier to have such an abrupt loss that we had so much hope in.

But what I do want to respond to is the statement I hear all the time..."Adoption is not for the week". That is a bunch of bull. I am weak. One of the weakest there is. I have been known to cry at the result of a game show people!! This is how emotionally vulnerable I am. And even though I am canceling yet another baby shower in my life, packing up my Evie's clothes and facing the risk of never seeing the girl who was mine for 8 weeks ever again, it was all worth it FOR HER. Where else would she have gone? Who else would have held her? Who else would have played Jack Johnson in the car when they thought she was scared and there was nothing else they could do because they were on the road? Who else would have picked out the godiest pieces of headwear and showed her off to the crowds like a princess? Who else would have asked God for the strength to let their guard down and allow them to love this little girl like she was her mommy, even if it meant just for a little while? Who else?

If you're asking yourself if you could ever do something like this...you can. It hurts like hell, but you can for these kids. My life is not about me. It is about listening to a God whose heart hurts for broken families, and doing my part to help restore these families or to take a child away from a situation that cannot be resolved. I will do this at the cost of allowing pain into my heart but in return, oh what love....Oh what love.