Imagine having one of your children spending the night with a friend. Maybe it’s a nice night off for you. Maybe you worry, what are they doing? Are they safe? Are they eating right?
Imagine having one of your children off at camp for a week or a few weeks. Those questions now multiply. You talk with them but don’t get much information (they’re teenagers after all) and you think about them off and on all day hoping that they are OK.
Imagine as a friend of mine right now is experiencing her son is on another continent for a great experience through his school. I have no doubt she is happy for him but at the same time would rather have him safe and sound with her. The long flight there and back without her, what is he doing, what if he gets sick, is he eating well, on and on.
Now imagine an adoptive parent like me. Two teenagers in Ukraine. Not only do I have all those questions but I have ones like will Russia invade Ukraine? Will we be able to get there and bring them home before that happens? What if they get sick and there is no one to take care of them? Are they eating? (probably not – at least not much). And a hundred other questions just like that.
The only thing I can do is work to raise the money to get there and finish up the paperwork. My facilitator is traveling to one of the orphanages today and will let me know next week how Kristina is doing. I just wish I could hug her and tell her that we’re getting there as fast as we can. I haven’t heard from Yuri in over a week. My normally chatty son is very quiet. I’m hoping it’s because they have nice weather and he is outside playing. I think all kinds of thoughts I don’t want to think like maybe the internet has been shut down and things are happening. They aren’t far from the Russian border. Then I tell myself to just trust Yahweh that everything is fine.
Some might say that well they aren’t really your children, at least not yet. To that I say you must never have adopted yourself. The second you make the decision to adopt them they have a place in your heart as if you’ve given birth to them. I can’t explain it. I really can’t.
Before adoption I had no idea it would be like this. I’ve given birth to four children. I’m a love (step) parent to two more. I love those two like I gave birth to them. I’ve fought for them, hugged them close when bad things happened and think about them and their future no different than the ones I gave birth to. Then we adopted Vlad and who knew there was a boy growing up halfway around the world that was in my heart before I even knew him. That I love him so very, very much. I wish I could have been there for him when he was little. To give him the cuddles and love he so desperately needed. But I’m there now. And he is in my heart like the other six. And now there is two more, waiting for us in Ukraine. One we haven’t met yet but she is in my heart just as solidly as the others.
So I think about them. And do my best not to worry about them and their situation. I pray to Yahweh that He protects them and takes care of them. I pray that we have the funds to travel soon. And that the documents are all accepted and approved. And that Russia stays out of Ukraine.
So yes, I miss my children. I can’t wait to hug them and hold them and in Kristina’s case, meet her. I can’t wait to wrap my arms around her and help her feel safe. And show her that she has a mom and a dad who love her.