The day we met Jeremiah I was in a pretty difficult place emotionally. When I got the call from DCFS that morning, I almost said no. We had a few exceptionally painful goodbyes recently and I didn’t feel ready to open myself or my family up to another loss. I very vividly remember our conversation “Hey Mrs. Murray. I’ve already made a few calls and no luck. Any chance you are open?” I mentally scrolled through a list of reasons why I should say no.
I happened to be in the middle of stress painting the spare room. (Anyone else have the urge to paint everything when they’re emotional?) I had just finished writing Jeremiah 29:11 on the wall behind the bed, For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, and was standing in the middle of the room with a paint roller in my hand. So I told her that we really wouldn’t be able to take anyone for at least a couple of days till I can get things put back together. And for reasons I still don’t understand, because I really had no intention of saying yes, I asked “but what do you need?”. She gives me what information she can “We’ve got a 4 week old male. I really don’t have much information to give you. His name is Jeremiah. That’s really all I have right now but I can let you know when I find out more”. I’m sorry his name is what? I just glanced over at the scripture I was about to paint over, and it felt impossible to say no. So I just told her to bring me that baby, “We’ll figure it out. Just tell her go ahead and to bring him here” I don’t even think I gave Joben the usual courtesy call to “ask” if he’s ok to say yes to a placement at the time. In fact I think the text went something like “hey FYI we have a 4 week old coming later today”. And I’m sure his response was something like “Umm. Ok”
So I very impatiently wait for his arrival, and at about 7pm I see the car stop on the street. I met the investigator outside because at this point I can’t even stand to wait long enough for her to unload and get to the front door. She should have been off work and home with her family hours ago, but she had to drive 2 hours to the hospital and an hour and a half to my house to get this little one to a safe place. We signed some papers on the trunk of her car and she pulled a tiny 4 week old infant from behind the back passenger door. He had the most striking head full of blonde hair, and was finally sound asleep after a mostly fussy ride. I laid eyes on him and was overwhelmed by how much I instantly loved this tiny boy. This was the 3rd infant placement we had received within a 4 week span, and after saying goodbye unexpectedly to the other 2, I thought to myself “Oh man. This one’s gonna hurt”.
By this point in our foster care journey we know the drill. We bring him inside, and head straight to the bathtub. He showed up literally in the only piece of clothing he owned and a soaked through diaper. Bless the CI for grabbing a small bag from the hospital before she headed our way. I opened it to find a sample pack of diapers, a small pouch of wipes, and 16 ounces of ready to drink infant formula. My husband makes a quick grocery store run for pajamas and supplies to make it through the night, and I activate my village. 48 hours later and our tiny buddy was all set with everything he needed. I’m telling you, our village is now a well oiled machine.
So the following day we get a call from the case manager to let us know the date and time for court, and to plan a time to see Jeremiah in our home. When court day arrives, I’m anxious to meet his parents and reassure them that we are on their team. That first meeting is always something I worry about getting right. I hope these parents know we’re in their corner. Weekly visits with his parents are scheduled, and we make sure to put them on our calendar. A case plan is written so everyone knows the goals needed to accomplish in order to safely return Jeremiah to the care of his biological family. Pretty early on though, we realize he’s likely going to be with us permanently. Still, there is so much time between when you realize it’s unlikely they will be able to return to their parents, and when it actually becomes possible to make a permanent plan. And we wait. And wait. And wait. About a year goes by before steps are taken to move toward an adoption.
We ended up finalizing his adoption via zoom (because 2020) the day before his second birthday, so exactly 4 weeks shy of two years in foster care. It didn’t feel the way I thought it would when we made the choice 6 years ago to adopt from foster care. I was so happy and thankful that we would never have to say goodbye to him, but I was also so desperately heartbroken for his parents, his grandparents, his siblings, and him. Although our hope is that we’ve made connections that will allow us to keep that door open for him, he has an entire family that we may or may not ever really know.
It’s pretty tempting to turn adoption into something romantic. While it is certainly something to celebrate, I think it is also important to save room for grief. There is no adoption without first a loss. My great joy came at the expense of another’s great loss and I simply can not take that lightly. Adoption is lovely and good and in some cases what is best under the circumstances. But it is also scary and lonely and full of uncertainty. I’m thankful I get to tell this beautiful story now, but we weren’t always sure it would be ours to tell. When we were making our way through it, with no guarantee for how his future would pan out and no say in the decisions being made for him, all we could do was take the next step forward. We all have walked through seasons that felt like we wouldn’t survive. If you are in one of those seasons today, just keep taking one more step forward.