The End/The Beginning

There's a modern-day parable that goes something like this:

A town is being deluged by heavy rains, and the streets are beginning to fill with water.  A man is in his house, watching the flood begin to encroach on his property.  His neighbor comes by and says, "We have to get out of here; soon our homes will be flooded and the streets will be impassable.  Come on, I'll drive us."  The man responds, "I'm not going anywhere.  God will take care of me." 

A little later, his house is filled with several feet of water and his mailbox and fence are completely submerged.  A few townspeople come floating by in a rowboat and urge him to climb in and evacuate with them.  He tells them, "No thank you.  God will send help for me." 

A couple of hours pass, and the man has to climb to his roof to escape the surging waters.  A helicopter hovers overhead, and a rescuer sends down a rope to lift him off the roof to safety.  He calls up to the rescuer, "That's ok!  God will save me!"  Darkness falls and the water rises further.  The man is carried away by the current and drowns. 

When he gets to heaven, the man marches up to God and says, "What happened?  I trusted that You would send help and save me, and now I'm dead!"  God looks at the man and says, "I sent a neighbor, a rowboat and a helicopter.  What more did you want?"

I don't know that this is a perfect analogy, but when I look back on the past two and a half years, a number of moments stand out that could have completely changed the course of our attempt at adoption, and would have resulted in us bringing a child home, instead of having a beautiful nursery that will now remain empty indefinitely. 

I think of the time when we almost changed agencies to one with a shorter waiting list and far less time to wait for referrals.  I think of the many chances we had to change our preference to a boy, and how each time we decided we would continue to wait for the girl we'd dreamt of.  I think of the conference I attended in 2007, where an adoption advocate told me to complete our adoption as quickly as I could, because Vietnam could shut down any time.  I think of the numerous children with special needs -- many minor and/or correctable -- that we could have considered, but chose instead to wait. 

I am not saying that these were the wrong choices; at all times, we did the best we could with the information we had and with what we felt prepared to handle.  The outcome that has now been revealed -- that we will not be able to bring a child home from Vietnam -- resulted from as many external forces and decisions as it did from anything we did or didn't do. 

I'm certainly not blaming myself; I'm just saying that there isn't one single thing to blame.  Although if there were one thing that influenced this outcome more than any other, it would probably be the fact that a number of unethical agencies engaged in corrupt practices, which in turn led to the non-renewal of the bilateral agreement and the shutdown of adoptions between the US and VN.  To the extent I have anger about our unhappy ending, I direct it at those people who chose to exploit children and families for their own material gains.  It's a shame that agencies with strong humanitarian programs and unassailable ethical practices had to be punished along with those sick, greedy people.

Through the later stages of this process, I learned a lot more about the hideous things that have gone on in VN adoptions, and I can tell you that it confirmed for me that the US did what it had to do.  I still wish that the good work of the above-board agencies could have continued, but I understand more clearly why the US must demand greater accountability and transparency before adoptions can continue.  

Personally, I am more committed than ever before to advocate for this transparency, and for more concrete ethical standards in this system.  I also will continue to support organizations whose goal is to help impoverished children and families in VN regardless of the status of adoption; having lots of children available for foreigners to adopt should never be a goal of any society, and I intend to lend assistance to aid groups that try to keep families out of desperate poverty and to give children much-needed opportunities as much as possible.  If I could find a way, I would also support the prosecution and the imposition of civil and criminal liability against the American agency directors who engaged in corrupt practices. 

As for our story, I think when we withdrew from Noelle's referral, some part of me knew that it was the beginning of the end.  That was, without question, the saddest thing I've ever been through.  I feel sick just thinking about the phone call I got when we were told about her diagnosis and prognosis, how my entire body started trembling and I felt as though all of the blood had rushed out of my veins and I might simply disintegrate.  It was the death of so many things at once, so many hopes and dreams and imagined moments, and it's something that will always haunt me.

Even amid the grief and despair, we did pick ourselves up and, a month later, we did fall in love again, with the angelic baby we saw in a handful of photographs, swathed in white with large, curious eyes and a shock of spiky hair.  We bought tiny clothes and pacifiers and an Ergo carrier since she was so much littler than Noelle.  And then a month after that, the rug was pulled out from us once again by a bureaucratic decision that contravened everything we had been told when we lost Noelle. 

We fought for Amelia with letters and meetings and phone calls and elected officials, and we found people within our government who took up our cause -- and that of similarly situated families -- with compassion and tenacity.  Even so, the final answer, which we received last week, was a no. 

I don't see a bright side to this, but there is something that cushions the blow ever so slightly:  We had learned a couple of weeks ago that the officials in Amelia's province had decided to make her available for domestic adoption.  The officials said our process was taking too long, and insisted that this was their way of looking out for her best interests.  Although I don't believe she's been placed with a local family yet, she may be soon; she likely will not linger in an orphanage for long.  I am sure she will flourish and bring her parents immense joy.  I do hope they have a lot of hairbows, because it would be a shame not to play with all that gorgeous hair of hers. 

We, meanwhile, are pulling ourselves together and looking to the future.  Something great awaits us; we still believe that, after years of waiting, anxiety and heartache.  In a way, all of that has been lifted off us now, and it is an immense relief.  Living in the purgatory of indecision and uncertainty was not something I would wish on anyone.  We couldn't plan anything, we couldn't answer people's well-meaning questions, we couldn't know as any day started whether it would bring triumph or defeat.  Now we know, and our state of suspended animation is over.

The night before we heard about the final decision, I laid awake, praying harder than ever before that God would give me an unmistakable sign and that we would either move forward down the path to Amelia, or that He had other plans and would open another door for us.  When the email arrived in my inbox the following morning, I was sad, of course -- devastated -- but I knew my prayers had been answered.  (God had probably been wondering why I hadn't taken a hint from all of those other signs along the way, so this time He REALLY made it clear, clear enough even for a bone-head like me.)

Obviously, our dream of adoption, one I've held as long as I can remember, wasn't meant to be (at least for now; we certainly have plans to dive back in the moment that Vietnam reopens, although that will be several years from now).  We'll find another path that will lead to whatever it is we are supposed to do and whoever our child is supposed to be.  I can't wait to find out what's out there, what we haven't even imagined yet but that will turn out to be the perfect ending for us -- even though it's different from what we've been chasing for all this time. 

(P.S.  I've un-passworded the site.  To those who hadn't been logging in (AND WHY NOT, I ask you??  Kidding), welcome back!  I've missed you.  To those who have, thanks so much for sticking with me even when you had to type in some extra stuff to get here -- I realize that 99% of the time, it wasn't worth the hassle, so hopefully this will be a relief for you, too.)

(Also!  Step One of The Start of the Rest of Our Lives is to go on a BIG ASSED VACATION.  We are considering a bunch of options but where we go depends largely on some worky timing stuff and it may be a few months before we can take off.  We figure we deserve something of substantial awesomeness.  I'll keep you posted.)

Comments

[Jamie]

oh my goodness. i don't really have the right words (as usual) but am hoping beyond ALL HOPES that good things come your way soon. oh, man.

[H]

I feel compelled to say something, but I don't know what to say other than I'm so sorry that your dream has been crushed, at least for now. My wish for you is that you cling to hope and something, or someone, wonderful will come your way.

[beyond]

so very sorry about all this.
my heart goes out to you.

[Carolyn]

M, I am so sad to read this. You have been through so much pain with all of this, and yet I am amazed at your outlook and wisdom about it all. Saying a prayer for you, that your heart continues to heal and that you have a wonderful, restful vacation.

[-R-]

You definitely deserve a huge vacation.

I am glad it sounds like Amelia will be adopted soon, but I am so sorry it won't be you doing the adopting. I am so, so sorry for your loss.

[Blythe]

Oh, man, when I saw the title of your post I somehow hoped the news would be different. My heart goes out to both of you, and Amelia, and Noelle, and everyone involved in this situation.

I hope the next chapter is smoother, starting with a well-deserved break.

[Lisa C]

Oh Meredith, I'm so sorry to hear your news. I've thought about you and checked in often. I'm sending major hugs your way. Enjoy your vacation the best that you are able to, and you and I will continue traveling down this strange path known as adoption.

[Suebob]

Where one door closes and another one closes and another one closes, some freaking thing has got to open!

[Swistle]

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

[pseudostoops]

I'm so so sorry.

[Jess]

I'm so very sorry.

[Mimi]

I got a new computer a couple of months ago, and when the old comp. died, I lost your password with it. I'm glad I was able to catch up on your blog.

I am so sorry to hear this latest news. My heart goes out to you. I hope you find the child you are supposed to have very soon.

[H Willis]

I have wondered how you were doing for a long time, but I never had your password. I'm glad your blog is open again. You write so well about your story. Everybody has a story; your's seems so winding and twisting and awfully sad. It is hard to sit back and watch your dream sift through your hands like sand. I pray your arms will not be empty for much longer, and that God will give you the desire of your heart. .. a child.

[Gwen]

I'm so sorry, and I hope something wonderful is coming your way very soon.

[Debbie in the UK]

Oh Meredith

I am so sorry about what has happened to you. You and Joe have both lived with this uncertainty and heartache for so long and it seems so unfair. At least you have your faith, which a lot of people dont have in these circumstances.

I wish you all the luck in the world in the future. You sure could use some at this time!

Love

Debbie xx

[glenna]

Oh I am so sorry to hear this news for you guys. My heart breaks for you. I just know that something or someONE great is coming your way in the future though.

[Marin]

I've really got nothing beyond a heartfelt, repeated many times, "I'm so sorry."

[nonsoccermom]

Ugh, I'm so sorry to hear this. I can't even imagine how you must feel, I was so hoping that things would work out in your favor.

You both definitely deserve a HUGE vacation.

[Beth]

I've been thinking about you guys so much, and I'm sad to read of this latest development. Someday you'll be able to look back and see how your path was meant to be, but it's so hard right now, I realize. May your time of clarity and satisfaction come soon. *hug*

[Becky]

I just wanted to send you some ((Hugs)). Also, thank you for your well written post - it really touched me and made me evaluate some things taking place in my own life.

[Erika]

I am so sorry. I'm sure you know this, but it doesn't hurt to hear it again. When God says "wait", it doesn't mean "no", just not right now.

[Mar]

I am so sorry - for the past few months and now this. I cannot imagine a better way of framing this ordeal and resolution than you have. And I hope your vacation is a wonderful respite.

[Kristin H]

I'm so sorry it's not going to happen. I hope God surprises you soon with something wonderful that you didn't anticipate!

[livlaugheat]

I'm so sorry. Thank you for being so open about your story. I hope you'll keep writing as your new story develops. Enjoy the big trip!

[Jen W.]

I wasn't sure how to log in before either, but I'm glad I kept checking to see if something changed. I've always enjoyed reading your blog. I'm so sorry that you had to go through such a heartbreaking and seemingly frustrating time. I do look forward to reading more though. You and your husband are in my thoughts!

[AmyB]

I'm so, so sorry to hear about this outcome. What a heartbreaking journey you've been forced upon. I'm in awe of your ability to take this news in stride, though. I agree that the waiting is the most agonizing part of any situation; bad or good news, waiting to hear it is torture! I pray that God brings your baby to you soon, as you're CLEARLY already a mother (and an amazing one at that). God Bless you and Joe as you walk down this new path.

[Danielle-lee]

I'm so sorry. I just don't know what else to say. I understand exactly what you mean-the relief, the FINALLY knowing. Sigh.
So glad you are going to look for that window God left open...I do believe you are right: He has something in store for you, and your baby is out there. Good luck.

[Kari]

I am so sorry this didn't work out the way we all had hoped. I kept checking, absolutely certain that good news was coming.

I still believe that and will keep you and J in my thoughts.

[Kim]

I am so sad for the two of you and your families. I wish the ending to your story could have been a happy one.

[mischa's one]

I'm really sorry to hear this update but so admiring of your approach to the future. I hope you have a fantastic holiday.

[daysgoby]

I'm so very sorry. Be gentle with yourself.

[Kimberly]

So, so sorry... so, so sad to hear the news. I can't imagine-- actually, I have tried and it about caused a panic attack. This just was not the ending I have been hoping and praying for. I can't wait to read the next chapter, though, when new plans and dreams come true for your family. You and Joe are in my prayers.

[Linda]

Gosh, what a mature attitude you reveal in this post. I was hoping and praying for your Amelia. God will bless you through this, and I know you get that, but I wish I had words of wisdom to ease you through this low point. Hang in there. A fabulous vacation sounds like a well deserved respite. Praying for you!

[Leah]

My heart is breaking at the unbelieveability of this all. As with Noelle, Amelia has touched my life and I won't forget her. I have no doubt that she and those gorgeous eyes will be much loved wherever she ends up, and that Your Child will also be much loved and perhaps moreso because of all you've been through.

(Just scrounged up my login after months of not being able to ('twas on my work computer), and am glad--although also saddened--to be back in the loop. Take care, old friend.)

[HeatherM]

Merideth...I so wish things would have turned out differently. You seem to have such a positive attitude about the future which is wonderful...a good vacation is definately called for! Maybe to the mountains with a big house & a big cozy fireplace & some great wine! Keep the faith my friend...adoption is not for the faint of heart...press on! Your miracle awaits!

Heather M.

[Christine]

I was surprised to see that the password was down today. And then saddened to learn that this is the reason why. I can't imagine how completely frustrating and awful this is for you, but I have to say, you've handled it with such grace.

Hope you enjoy your vacation and I hope even more for what is in store for you (only good things! you guys deserve it!)

[Jess]

I am so sorry about this. I have been wondering how this process was going with you (did I miss the memo on how to log in?), and while I was thrilled to see a new post from you in my Reader, this is so, so, so not the news I was hoping for. I'm glad that it looks like Amelia will be adopted, but so sorry for you that you aren't the family adopting her. I hope and believe that there is a path for you with a child at the end of it, and I hope you find it soon. In the meantime, enjoy that vacation.

[Leah]

I am so so sorry. I often wondered how your story was unfolding. I am happy you are back.

[Cindy M]

There just aren't words...

But you're right...this isn't the end, really...just the beginning of the rest of the story.

Also wanted you to know that I've continued to enjoy reading your blog. I enjoy your sense of humor, your honesty and your perspective.

[Kate]

I had just started reading your blog when you found out about Noelle's health problems. Then I was so excited to hear about Amelia. Then you went missing, and I wondered and prayed that all was well and that you were just protecting your new daughter.

To come back and read this outcome...well, it just kind of breaks my heart for you. I'm so sorry. And I'm even sorrier for those two little girls who will never know how much they were loved by two parents, from across an ocean. I hope God delivers them into arms as loving as yours.

[Alyce]

I don't know what to say except I'm so sorry.

[twangypearl]

Adding my line to the chorus - I too am very sorry to hear this sad news.
I wish I had half your grace - really, your wisdom is amazing. Have a lovely trip.

[Gretchen]

I have been reading for a long time but never commented and therefore didn't feel I had the right to ask for a password when you went private (am Scandinavian; have no other excuse). So, I was delighted to learn from another site that you were back, and then so very sad to hear what the final answer was for you and your husband about Vietnam. I am so, so sorry. I hope that this particular "no" opens up something else for you, as you mentioned...but I know as comforting as such thoughts eventually are, they don't really lessen the magnitude of pain to be processed. WHICH IS A SERIOUS DESIGN FLAW IN HUMAN HEARTS, yea verily. My thoughts are with you all during this sad time, and I wish you much happier times ASAP. Thank you for your writing -- it is entertaining and insightful, and I have enjoyed reading it over the years.

[TUWABVB]

I didn't realize that you had gone to password protected, but I had missed your writing so much. I'm so glad I can access your blog again, but I'm so sorry it's under such circumstances. I know that you are destined for something great, and I love that you seem to have the patience and wisdom to deal with it - even though it hurts.

[metalia]

Oh, no! I'm so, so sorry. You're so amazing to have toe presence of mind and the perspective that you do; something great DOES await you, and we'll all be here, rejoicing with you when that time comes.

Much love, my friend. xoxo

[Katy B.]

I have never commented but I have been reading your site for awhile now and just wanted to say how sorry and heartbroken I am for you guys. You all are in my thoughts and I hope your vacation is wonderful and all you need it to be

[Roz]

I'm so sorry...but I do know that God is good...all the time...albeit never easy for us to rest in. Hang in there and have a great vacation!!

[Jessica V]

I am sooo sooo sorry! We have been praying for you guys and will continue to do so. The Lord has a plan for you.

[3carnations]

I'm sorry.

I haven't been reading because I lost the password. When I saw your site pop up on my bloglines, I was excited for some news...And sorry for the news you had.

When it's time...your baby will come along. :) Sorry for the wait. That must be so hard.

[chirky]

I was a little afraid to read this post, a little afraid of what it would contain. I'm just devastated for you guys.

My Vietnam remains one of my favorite posts - ever. I get how much you love the country, how desperately you had hoped to come full circle and make Noelle or Amelia - children of that country - part of your own family. I'm sad to hear this news, and hope that only good things come for you guys from this point forward.

[Flicka]

I was wondering where you'd gone. I only lurk so I didn't feel like I had a right to chase you down. I'm so sorry to hear that you won't be able to bring Amelia home. I was hoping so hard for you. I'm praying with you as you venture out again into brave new territory.

xoxo
Flicka

[Mandee]

I know one thing for sure: Your future child is very lucky indeed.

I'm so terribly sorry for the losses you have suffered, but I'm excited for the good things that lie ahead.

[Mauigirl]

I'm so sorry to hear the adoption isn't going to happen. I'd been meaning to log in so many times but had to search back in my mailbox for the password and kept not getting to it. You have been in my thoughts, and thanks go to Jonniker for letting us know you're unpassworded again.

I have no doubt you will find the child you are waiting for. I'm sad that it won't be this child but there is one there for you and it may happen sooner than you think. Somehow it's often the unexpected things that turn out to be the answer.

[stefanie]

I will admit it: I am too lazy to manually check in on a password-protected site, but now that you're back in my Bloglines list, hello again! I'm so sorry to hear about what happened with Amelia. I always want to believe that everything happens for a reason, but it sure is hard to believe that when life throws you curves like that. Take care. I'm sure that nursery will have a beautiful baby in it one day hopefully not too far down the road.

[amyjami]

i'm so sorry, lawyerish. i've been wondering how things have been for you since i couldn't log in and now, although i'm glad you're "back", i'm sad for you reading this. i was hoping, like everyone else, for good news. your family is in my thoughts.