A simple phone call

Almost seven months passed since meeting our children. We hit many bumps in the road, completed more paperwork and cleared ourselves through more background checks than we ever imagined. Nothing went as planned or according to the timeline I originally assumed based on others’ stories.

Some days I felt a sudden burst of inspiration and pressed on confidently. God led us this far already. He wouldn’t let us or those precious children down.

Then other days I ran head on into a wall of anxiety, wondering if, after all of this, something could go wrong. When would we finally reach the end so we could travel to Colombia to get them? If we couldn’t go in the summer time, a whole other dimension of details needed to work out because of school.

My pretty little picture didn’t look so pretty anymore. I envisioned a beautiful puzzle where nearly every piece fit perfectly, but the remaining missing pieces left a gaping hole in the picture. What did our final masterpiece look like? What parts of our journey to our children had we not yet seen?

My heart ached for what Juan David and Viviana might be experiencing on their end. Did they think we changed our minds? Did they wonder if a family might not ever come for them? Did they even still remember us, after having only spent two afternoons with us, now seven months ago? I assumed a multitude of questions consumed them after these seven months of complete silence on our end.

Through a random conversation with the kids’ host family, I soon found out I could make phone calls to the kids during the process! The hosting program strives to keep them connected to a family or a caring adult after they leave. The continued communication helps solidify a bond, especially for an older child, before they ever join a family.

I contacted the program coordinator as soon as I found out! She couldn’t believe I didn’t know earlier or that these kids lost all contact with us when they returned home. She immediately made connections for me to find out what days and times the orphanage gave permission for the kids to receive phone calls. It thrilled me to know I could soon talk with them, hear their voices, and learn more about them while I continued to wait.

Their defender and their social worker both suggested I ask the kids questions about their daily life, their likes and dislikes, etc. I could let them know we were in the process of trying to adopt them, but I should not discuss the process with them in any way. Children in these circumstances struggle to handle the anxiety of waiting for such a possibility, wondering daily how much longer it might take.

I felt anxious and nervous as I dialed the number to the orphanage. I didn’t even know what I would say, other than to ask if they still remembered me.

“Yes, I remember you. You’re David’s mom.” That first phone call with Juan David felt so awkward, but I loved how he remembered David. Once I knew he remembered us, I asked question after question about his daily life. We talked comfortably with one another.

“I’m doing homework right now. . . I still need school supplies . . .  I am in fourth grade . . . I like Math, and I love P.E. because I get to play soccer . . . Yes, I would like for you to call me more.” We only talked for a short while before I ran out of things to say.

“Hola, Tía!” Viviana could barely contain her excitement over getting a phone call!  She called me Tía (Auntie), which sounded so sweet to me. She told me all about a doll she left in Texas and a suitcase the orphanage kept after she returned home. I heard a ton of noise in the background, and she definitely struggled with phone etiquette. I don’t think she held the phone correctly because everything sounded muffled. I struggled to understand her words. I still cherished every moment of the conversation, taking in every single sound. I learned about her by listening to her environment. Priceless.

What a privilege to finally hear their voices again so much earlier than I thought.