Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Waiting and Hyperventilating


It's hard to even describe the emotions that keep flash-flooding through my heart.  Waiting on an adoption is intense.  We started out faithful and calm, with checklists and timetables.  But the longer we wait . . . the more time that passes . . . the more it feels as though this is taking TOO LONG.  Like I am failing my little boy.  I get these waves of panic every day lately, where I can feel my pulse pounding, and I have an overwhelming urge to stow away on a plane to eastern Europe this very day and get that boy into my arms RIGHT NOW!  Because we are waiting on others.  Waiting on the homestudy social worker.  Waiting on USCIS.  Then we'll be waiting on a travel date.  Ugh.  We are not in control of the timetable.  And that is hard for me.  One moment, I am in peaceful prayer, placing this adoption in the Lord's very capable hands (again) and then before I know it I am pacing and having trouble breathing normally because I so intensely feel the need to DO SOMETHING!  (again)  And then I give it back to God.  And then I find myself panicking again.  Wow!  Round and round we go.  I just have to say, I'm glad our God is a patient and compassionate God, because sometimes I really struggle with this trust thing.


And yesterday the very sad, heartbreaking news of this little boy's needless death:
Dakota was eight years old.  Oh, sweet darling little boy!  Dakota is dancing and singing in the presence of our loving Father now, and will never have to suffer again.  But the reality is, he spent eight years on this earth, in that crib, and he went through more than any child, any person, should ever have to live through.  Just look at his picture and you will see that is true.  He was banished to an institution and he existed there, waiting for somebody to rescue him.  To love him.  He could have thrived in a loving family.  He could have lived such a full, joyful life.  And it is so hard for me to understand.  How can this be?

And perhaps that will explain the flash-flood panic episodes I have been experiencing more intensely than ever these last couple of days.  My son.  In an institution.  Waiting.  Oh, my heart.  Oh, my God!  I look at Dakota, and I think of Gideon.  I need to get my boy home!  

So please be in prayer for things to move quickly.  We sent our USCIS application, but it won't be processed until we can send in our homestudy to go along with it. We are waiting on our social worker to finish writing the homestudy.  He promised to have it completed later this week.  We are waiting.  Please pray that things will be processed quickly.  A little boy is waiting.





5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'm praying here for you!!! I know every feeling you have, I'm feeling it too!! Keep the faith, you'll have your precious son in your arms.

Amanda said...

I never knew that picture was Dakota! I have seen it before and was so sadden after I saw it:(

The panic hits me the same way. The I have messed up, I failed because I did not put the correct passport number and now my dossier has been denied, panic. I am not sure how I have any friends left.....emailing in a frenzy.

Soon he will be in your arms safe and sound.

Laura said...

And even when you get here, it won't move fast enough. At this point I'd walk to his region if I could get there quicker.

Laura

Lora said...

I am RIGHT there with you! Our app is in but the home study has taken a ridiculous amount of time. Praying for all our babies, that some how their sweet spirits know Mama is comic for them as fast as we can!

MommyG said...

Rachelle,

We are in the process of adopting "Mary" form RR. I was reading your blog, and was moved to tears with your description of why you are adopting internationally and a child with special needs in the FAQs. All information I know, but still always so hard to digest. I was wondering if I could share your answer on my blog (redeemingourdaughter.blogspot.com) because you put to words perfectly and painfully the reality of our babies had we not stood up to fight for them.

Be Blessed,

Erika Gustafson