Ten years ago, I sat on a bench in the Olive Garden seating area, a nervous wreck. The hands clammy-feet bouncing-heart racing-on the verge of a panic attack-kind of nervous. In walked this beautiful, bubbly girl with a smile as big as her belly. She wrapped me up in a hug and said “you’re not nervous are you!?” In our two hours with her she told us she loved motherhood and wanted to give another woman the experience of being a mom. She told us all about the life she wanted for her baby and the successful man she knew he would grow to be because she refused to let any child she gave birth to be cheated out of life, just because her life wasn’t together at the time.
She told me her biggest fear was that she would regret this decision for the rest of her life. I promised, myself right then and there, that if she chose me, I would spend every day loving this boy with all I had.
He was in my arms two weeks later.
She endured her greatest loss in order to deliver me my greatest joy. She gave him life and loved him first and even though the stretch marks from his pregnancy might not be found on my skin, she made sure they were etched all across my heart before he was ever born.
One year later, we got a call from the agency telling us his birth mother was pregnant again and wanted us to adopt this baby. He would be our son’s full, biological brother and she wanted them to be together. We were overjoyed. They flew her to our state and we talked over dinner about the previous year we spent with our son Eli and the hopes she had for his brother and for us. We thought because they were siblings and we had just given this agency over half of our annual income and sold most of our belongings to bring Eli home that they would be willing to work with us. Some kind of discount on the fees, an affordable payment plan…anything to keep these brothers together and honor her wishes.
To make a long story short, when they found out we did not have the money to cover their fees immediately they cut off communication and began showing her other profiles, giving her the impression that we were not interested. Knowing that we had to be able to tell our son that we did everything we could to adopt his little brother, we began to fight hard for this boy.
He was our first failed adoption.
Cue touchy subject here and not my story alone to share: What I will say is that God often has to work through imperfect people. Unfortunately, this agency saw only profit and not a baby. After doing all we could, we had no choice but to let go and grieve the loss of the baby boy who would never be ours. The last thing we were told was that she had placed him with another family. The agency never delivered our letters or pictures that she requested and we never heard from her again. Not sure what she was told about the situation or her feelings on openness…We were forced into a very closed adoption due to an agency that failed us both. In the following years this agency was decertified and the owner went to prison for fraud and embezzlement, leaving behind him a trail of broken hearts he was responsible for, including hers and ours.
We tried for several years to get in contact with both her and the family who adopted Eli’s brother through letters (sent through the agency) and social media. We learned after the agency closed down that his brother lived in our same state. For reasons unknown, our attempts to make contact went unanswered and we could do nothing except pray that someday God would find a way to reunite us all.
One night, during the summer of last year. Ten years after adopting Eli. We received a message on Facebook from Eli’s birth mother. She knew our first names and decided it was time to search for us. Having waited years for this moment we ecstatically responded and began filling in the missing years and planning for the day she could see him again and find peace in the decision she made all those years ago.
But wait. Hold on to your hearts friends, because it gets even better.
Because God. Because He is good all the time and He works all things together for our good, the remaining piece of that wreckage was also restored that same day.
We were informed by his birth mother that Eli and his biological brother have lived 45 minutes from each other for their entire lives.
She had arranged for a day they could meet while she was visiting. When I saw him running down the hotel hallway towards us, I felt like my heart had taken up residence in my throat and it would come crawling out if I tried to speak. That’s when I realized that a part of my heart had always belonged with this sweet boy. We all hugged, holding on a little tighter than you would a normal stranger. These boys were instant brothers – they went swimming and showed each other their best tricks. They could do all the same ones. We played a getting to know you game and half of their answers were the same. After we left the hotel, knowing our lives would always be a little bit fuller, I cried the entire drive home just thinking about all of the “might have beens” with him and I grieved the last ten years they missed of each other. But that day, I made slime with him and he shared his Milk Duds with me and we talked about the girls he likes as if we’d been doing this all his life. I hugged him tight and saw how God wrote this story for the good of all of us. For me, for his mother who needed him in her life, and for his birth mother who had to make an impossible choice all those years ago. Most especially though, for the two of them.
I’ve waited ten years to witness this relationship that should have been theirs all along. I’m learning more and more that the love language of Heaven is patience. That God’s promises are rarely ever found in the miracles we were banking on, but down in the nitty gritty, break your heart wide open circumstances that He works together for our good. The holiest ground I’ve walked wasn’t found on the perfectly paved path of my expectations, but in courtrooms, doctors offices, hotel lobbies, therapy sessions and the everyday moments in between that have made us a family.
Their story began with brokenness and heartache and tears. But there was also selflessness and joy and laughter and hope and gratitude and so, so much love weaved right alongside it. I hope someday they will see that they too have the strength to live and laugh and love, not in spite of the loss they have experienced, but because of it.
Someday they will understand God’s hand in their own stories and recognize just how known and loved they are down to the smallest detail of their wonderfully unique lives.
Written by Kortni Miller // @born.from.my.heart
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Amanda oswaldThat was an amazing story, and written so well, that I am in tears. Thank you for sharing that.
Ann HardcastleAmazing and beautifully written with so much emotion, love and dedication.
Ann HardcastleThis story touches my heart every time. So much beauty, love and dedication in Kortni’s words. This story touches my heart every time.