The painful truth about pre-adoption and the hope it brings
Last night I came home late. The kids were all in bed. I went to each of their rooms to look in on them — all except Tong. Tong is across the world in China, waiting to come home. We are in the process of adopting him.
His picture sits framed on our kitchen counter. As I went to get water before bed, I passed it and stopped. Crushed.
I have a son that isn’t mine yet. I have a son I can’t talk to, interact with, or help. I have a son, thousands of miles away that doesn’t know me. I have a son that sits in an orphanage every day, wishing he had a family, all the while his family, my family, wish we had him too. I have a son. I have to wait.
Pre-adoption is waiting
Waiting to adopt is waiting for bureaucracy. Waiting for government, agencies, and people to move forward so we can do something as simple as taking a plane to bring our son home. It’s a time to prepare for the difficulty and beauty that is adoption. Waiting to adopt is like waiting for a new life to start while living your best current life as well. It’s exciting. It’s hard. It’s painful, very, very painful.
The worst part is knowing my son wants a family but doesn’t yet know he’s getting one. We know and love him, but the way the process works, he doesn’t know about…
