Somewhere Out There

It has been 8 years. 

8 years.  And yet, I can still hear their little voices.  I can feel their tiny arms gripping tight around my neck.  The sights of the Volga river and the smell of 'white squishy' being prepared in the kitchen.  It's still so fresh in my mind.  

It's been 8 years since I stepped foot in that Russian orphanage.  Bunk beds lined against the wall.  Little faces one by one staring back at me.  Looking into their precious eyes.  Eyes that spoke of their longing to be held.  To be treasured.  To be chosen.  To be loved.  My heart was broken.  And I knew I would never be the same.

   

So here I am, 8 years later, with my heart burning fiercely to hold one of these precious angels again.  Because what once started as a small seed has now grown into a massive tree with roots so deep in my heart that I simply cannot ignore it.  

This my friends, is what has led my husband and I to take action.  And honestly, I have wrestled with how to best announce this.  How to actually tell people the steps that we are taking.  Because it is hard.  So hard to convey how much this all means to us.  So hard to find the perfect words.  And so hard to overcome the fear that people aren't going to understand.  But it's time.  It's time for us to let everyone in on the journey we are taking.  It's time to just say it.  To put it out there and trust that my jumbled words will be found as coherent to at least some.  So, here it is.....

Our family is starting the process of adopting a little girl from Bulgaria.  

We are in the home study stage now, and they say it can still be up to 3 years until we get to bring our daughter home.  And honestly, every time I say this out loud, I really can't help but burst into tears.  Maybe that's why I find it hard to talk about.  Hard to express to people.  Because I really just feel like a puddle of emotions when it comes to thinking about my little girl who may already be out there half way across the world.

To answer at least one looming question...Yes, we are specifying a girl on our adoption paperwork.  And without going into too many details or 'defenses' (because I'm slightly insecure of how this may be perceived), I just want to briefly explain why we came to this decision.  It's simple really.  The answer is because God has asked us to.  It seems trite to say that, but I really can't say it any other way.

You see, long before I had any children of my own, long before I was blessed with 2 precious little boys...I fell in love.  In the fields of Yoshkar-Ola, Russia I fell in love with an 8 year old girl named Zhenya.  

 

We didn't speak the same language, but somehow found a way to communicate.  We would spend hours walking through the fields and picking flowers, swinging on swings, and taking trips on our own down to the river bank.

Looking her in the eyes and telling her I wasn't going to be taking her home with me was literally one of the hardest things I've ever done.  And as I drove away from camp on that last day with tears pouring down my face, I just knew that some day, somehow, when I was 'old' and married and had the means to do it, I would adopt a little girl from this side of the world.

So naturally, when my husband came to me 4 months ago and expressed his desire to put biological children on hold and instead move forward with adoption, I was elated (and slightly terrified) .  And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape the still, small, yet relentless voice that said,  

It's time.  It's time to go get your daughter.

So on we move.  In pursuit of this precious little girl.  With some fear and trepidation, but with all the faith in the world that someday, somehow, we will meet our daughter and bring her home where she belongs.  And until then, we trust our Father to watch over her, to protect her, and to love her.

One of the first songs I learned to play on the piano, which is now one that Hudson and I sing together often, seems to say it best:  

Somewhere out there
Beneath the pale moonlight
Someone's thinking of me
And loving me tonight

Somewhere out there
Someone's saying a prayer
That we'll find one another
In that big somewhere out there

And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star
And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky

Somewhere out there
If love can see us through
Then we'll be together
Somewhere out there
Out where dreams come true

Sweet daughter of mine, my greatest fear in all of this is not what other's may think, but what you will.  That you may grow up feeling like you were not wanted.  Oh, my child, this couldn't be further from the truth.  I, for one, have loved you before I ever officially became a mom.  I've loved and longed for you before you even came into existence.  My heart has always known that somewhere out there, I would find you.  So as you lay your head down tonight, may these words find you and may your heart know you are deeply loved.