Helpless

I had to keep holding on. As long as my agency didn’t give up, I wouldn’t either. I couldn’t let go until every remaining chance disappeared. I fell to my knees and begged anyone and everyone to do the same, to pray for a miracle to bring my children home to me, where they belonged.

Perhaps we could see a Colombian psychologist. Maybe the committee could arrange a phone call with our own psychologist via translators. Maybe, just maybe, God would still intervene.

He got us this far, right? He wouldn’t keep communication with the kids open this long, allowing us to grow closer every day, only to let it all fall apart. He wouldn’t do that. Would He?

Until someone broke the news to the kids, I held firmly to that faith. My God was big enough to move this huge mountain standing in front of us.

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Despite my faith, my whole world crashed down only a few days later when I received a third e-mail from Julian.

“Thank you so much for everything you did to try to adopt my siblings.  Even though it didn’t work out, my brother and sister will never forget you. We are all very sad after watching their dreams to join your family crumble. I hope God will fill your lives with many blessings. Juan David and Viviana will always love you.”

No!!!! This can’t be happening. Not yet! It’s only been three days! My eyes filled with tears right there in the computer lab at school, still fairly early in the morning.  I don’t know how in the world I hid them from my students for the remainder of the day.

My agency said they wouldn’t give up yet, but now that I knew someone told the kids, everything inside me hurt. A heaviness fell upon my spirit and refused to lift. I felt so helpless. We did everything in our power to keep them from ever hearing those heart-wrenching words, yet we couldn’t stop it from happening.

We failed them. The guilt I carried with me from that day forward nearly sucked the breath out of me.

Mike still waited for a miracle. He’s the optimist in our family. Our agency continued to fight for another chance, or at least that’s what they said. I, personally, gave up the fight.

Racked with guilt, I imagined how the kids struggled on their side of the equation. Viviana lost the “tía” who planned to visit and bring her presents. She would be sad, but she would survive. Julian lost his dream of seeing his siblings adopted together so they could have a brighter future, but now they stayed with him for longer than he expected, so he would be okay, too.

But Juan David lost the family he already assumed himself a part of. He lost the one person he convinced himself was his mom, the man he claimed as a dad and the little boy he already considered his younger brother. He couldn’t wait for his adoption. He’d watched many of his friends in the orphanage come and go, either to reunite with their biological families or join a new family through adoption. His turn finally looked so close … and now further away than ever. My heart ached for him. Helpless, I couldn’t do a thing.