To my precious babies:
It has been literally impossible for me to sit down and write this letter to you for so long…and even now, tears hit my weighted down fingers as I try to type. There are no words to describe how much my heart is constantly aching to have you both home where you belong. In my heart, I am already your mom, and Nate is already your dad. People think it’s weird that I feel such an incredibly strong bond to you when I’ve never seen your faces. They don’t understand I could have such a powerful love for you when I don’t know your names. Some have criticized us for wanting to adopt you, they’ve made fun of us to our faces, made rude comments, and made me cry; but I don’t expect everyone to understand or feel the same way as your dad and I do about you. Not everyone is going to have the same life experiences as us or see things from the same point of view, and that’s ok. It doesn’t change one bit how much we love you and want you as part of our family. It’s true, as of right now, I don’t know if you are girls, boys, or one of each. But I don’t think it’s weird and I don’t think it’s crazy that I already feel this love for you anchored deeply in my heart. Is it crazy when a pregnant mom feels her indescribable loving connection to the tiny baby living inside her belly? People don’t question that, even though she does not yet know what that baby looks like or whether her baby is a girl or boy. They smile and praise and think it’s wonderful for a mom to love her baby she’s never met, living safe inside her belly.
I wish so much that you were here, I wish so much that you were safe, and it feels impossible to have this connection to you in my heart, knowing that neither of the above things are true. Everyone just expects us to be ok while your dad and I complete the adoption processes, somehow thinking that we’re just going through the motions, completing paperwork in some sort of emotionless doing-homework sort of way. They think it’s silly to get emotional and desperate when I talk about you, since we don’t know who you are yet. But how can I not feel this sense of desperation to get to you when I know that you both are living on the other side of the world? Right now I don’t know all of the specific details about how you are growing up, and the trauma you’ve already experienced. But the things I do know break my heart. I know that you’ve been neglected and abandoned by those who you should have been able to trust. You’ve been mistreated, malnourished, and basically have nothing and no one to call your own. Your caretakers have graciously taken care of you and have given you as much as they have to offer, and I’m so grateful to them for giving their all to you both. Unfortunately, I know that it’s simply just not very much. I know you’ve probably never had a bite of solid food, even though you are close to 3 years old. I know you may never have had a real bath or a bed and may not have a change of clothes to your name. It killed me to watch Christmas pass by, watching all the adorable little boys and girls around me, dressed in their tiny Christmas sweaters and dresses, ripping open their gifts, knowing that you probably didn’t even know it was Christmas at all! I hate talking and thinking about what life looks like thorough your eyes, because it just hurts too much. But I don’t want to live in denial, and I don’t want to shield my eyes from how you are growing up. It’s reality, and it’s a part of who you are. Your dad and I are doing everything we can to bring you home and give you the things and experiences that kids around here take for granted every day. We put up a tiny tree in our living room just for you, and imagined you being here to celebrate with us next Christmas! We pray for you two constantly, and we trust that God has a plan for our family!
It won’t be easy for either of you to leave everything familiar and fly over the ocean with us, strangers you don’t even know. In fact, it’ll be the scariest thing that’s ever happened! It’ll be terrifying for you to come live in a world that looks, sounds, tastes, and feels 100% different from everything you’ve ever experienced! It’s scary for your dad and I too! We have no idea what we are doing, and how life is going to look once we meet you. But God specifically intended for us to be a family. I can feel it in my bones, just this shiver of awe as we are riding this roller coaster that we never expected to hop onto. The people who just keep coming out of the woodwork, people who live in Uganda with connections to you, people with valuable experiences to share, and people with encouraging support to offer (without even knowing anything about you, and had no idea we were even adopting you) has just been plain scary, to say the least! No one but God could be orchestrating this piece. I feel like we’re just sight reading our way through it, since I don’t know exactly what’s coming next, and it doesn’t really sound all that pretty (Ha-at least that’s what happens when I sightread music!), but right now, I’m just thankful to be part of the orchestra, squeaking out the notes God is putting in front of me.
2015 has just begun, and It’s still going to be awhile until we can come meet you both and bring you home, but I’m praying that day will come fast! I have a feeling that all of our lives will look much different by the time 2016 hits!
I miss you, I love you, and I can’t wait to know you.
For more info about our adoption, and where we are at, visit our Adoption page!