July 11, 2013. A very, very, very long awaited day. A lot of "blood, sweat, and tears" led up to it, five years of blood, sweat, and tears.
When we set out to adopt, we wanted a little girl. When we found her, we fell in love with her brother, too. At least one of them. (We didn't know there was another one.) We came so close to adopting them, so, so close. Then we lost them both.
That's when we met the other brother. He helped me grieve. He gave me back the opportunity to say goodbye. He gave me closure. I loved him, too.
Another family stepped up for the first two. At least I knew they'd be part of a family. At least I knew they'd stay together. Until the split. It broke my heart in two. He let her go because he loved her and wanted the best for her.
She had a new family. He was included as part of another family. The "other brother" became part of ours. I still loved all three of them as if they were mine. I knew I always would. I always will.
"If you had the chance to still adopt my brother, would you do it?" Julian asked me one morning as we sat and talked over breakfast that first summer in Colombia.
"Of course we would, but another family has embraced him now. I just want him to be happy."
I never imagined I would have a chance to live up to my response to Julian that day. I never thought another chance would ever come our way.
I'll never forget July 11, 2013, though sadly, the details of the actual day are quite blurry. I'd been in Colombia for five weeks. David slowly recovered from a pretty serious sickness, and now I myself was falling ill. I waited all morning for my lawyer's phonecall, hoping and praying to finalize the adoption that day. With a heavy heart, so disappointed that he hadn't called, I laid down for short nap. Shortly after I fell asleep, the phone rang.
"Come now!" Our sentencia was ready to be signed.
I jumped out of bed, quickly brushed my hair, grabbed the boys, and ran out the door. We met our lawyer shortly after, waited in a line, climbed the stairs for about five stories, recaught our breath, waited on a bench, and then signed a paper at a counter.
Nothing formal. No courtroom. No ceremony. Nobody dressed up. But with that paper officially signed by all, Juan David officially became our son and took on our last name.
I kept my word to Julian that we'd still adopt his brother if given the chance.
Hardest thing I've ever experienced. But I am grateful for all of it.
(Want the whole story? Hop on over to my book blog, www.unexpectedtearsbook.blogspot.com to read it piece by piece, with pictures. Or wait until it comes out in print next month and is followed by the sequel a few months later).
FROM THE HEART OF RACHELLE D. ALSPAUGH--A place to document my journey through God's story, a place to share the songs He puts on my heart
About Me
- Rachelle D Alspaugh
- I've been married to my husband, Michael, for almost 25 years. I'm a mom to a biological son and an adopted son from Colombia, and I'm also a spiritual mom to my adopted son's older brother, who I claim as a son in my heart. I'm bilingual and love to work with and relate to Spanish-speaking children and families. I've been a teacher to students from all sorts of backgrounds and cultures for the last 20+ years. I'm also an author and a certified Biblical counselor. I'm in a new empty nest season in a new location far from where I raised my boys, so I'm definitely in a stage of rediscovering myself, my interests, and my purpose.
No comments:
Post a Comment