Twelve years ago when John and I were considering adoption, I learned about an information session at Catholic Charities in Baltimore. With a little trepidation and lots of questions, we signed up for the session.
We parked in a tiny parking lot and entered a dimly lit building on Mount Royal Avenue. We took an elevator and walked through narrow dark hallways to find the meeting.
The session was incredible—and insightful. The social workers plunged into the topic with passion and directness, answering questions we hadn’t even thought to ask, explaining the different countries you could adopt from, and describing what we might experience while bringing children home.
We don’t find children for families, they said. We find families for children.
The meeting ended, and I wondered what John was thinking. There were several options, but I felt pulled most toward adopting from China or the Philippines. But I was sure John would want to go to Korea. I knew he hated flying, and Korea was the one country where—at the time—you could request that your child be escorted home to you.
As we walked out of the room, I said to John, “Well, what do you think?”
“I’m thinking China or the Philippines,” he said.
I was shocked—and thrilled. I felt God was walking with us, guiding us gently toward our child. And He did. The pieces of the puzzle started falling into place, and we started down the road with our Catholic Charities social worker—and others there who supported us along the way.
Adopting isn’t easy. There are unknowns and obstacles and challenges along the way. I found myself agonizing over forms and approvals and fingerprinting deadlines. I got frustrated about delay after delay after delay.
But John and I weren’t alone on the road to our child. We went to monthly meetings at Catholic Charities and connected with other families. Each month there were new children who had come home. It was beautiful to see. We knew it would happen for us, too.
And it did. About a year and a half after we first walked into that meeting, we finally held our baby boy in our arms. We became parents in a government office in Hunan Province in China, in an experience I will cherish forever. We didn’t do it alone. There were people across the country and around the world who helped us become a family in so many ways—matching us with our beautiful little boy, processing our paperwork, answering our thousands of questions.
Two years later, we were back in China, adopting another child—our second son. And I can close my eyes and be right back in that moment, too. No feeling in the world compares to holding your child in your arms for the first time.
When I heard that Catholic Charities of Baltimore had closed its international adoption program, I was so sad. Much has changed with international adoption, so I wasn’t surprised by the news. But it’s the end of a beautiful legacy and an incredible program that helped form and grow many families.
I also think of all the kind people who supported us along the way, patiently answering all my questions, working to prepare us for our children’s arrival, and supporting us after we brought each of our son’s home. The one team member remaining at Catholic Charities will continue to support us if we need additional resources as our children grow, and I’m thankful for that.
Today, I am grateful that Catholic Charities was there for us when we needed them. And I’m beyond grateful for our children, who are the most extraordinary blessings in our lives.
But I also find myself thinking sadly of the children I saw when I visited our son’s orphanage in China. Some of them had families on the way, and some, especially those with more significant needs, will never know the love of a family.
And every child deserves a family.
Copyright © 2020 Catholic Review Media
English
Spanish