An excerpt from Chapter One.

It was five years ago that we received the call about him, our first son. It seems so far away, yet still feels so close in my heart. I am sure that, since everything about him is etched in our hearts forever, each year's anniversary will feel this way--sentimental yet completely joyful that we said "yes" to his adoption (and to the Holy Spirit) even though he's passed on.

Here is an excerpt from Chapter One of With an Open Heart about those life changing moments:

I vividly remember the day I received the phone call from Holt, our adoption agency with news of a referral. It was July 7^th, 2009, and I was returning from errands to the grocery store and the bank. Madi, and my friend Sherril’s daughter, Julianna, were in the back seat of our minivan. I answered my cell phone, and heard the voice of Beth, our Holt agent, telling me that they had a little boy who needed a home. I’ll never forget that moment, as tears welled up in my eyes, and I could barely speak—or drive, for that matter!

Here’s when I should back up about two weeks to June 24^th, which was the day my Mother-in-Law (whom I’ll refer to as Grandma Pauline) passed away. She’d had a long, drawn-out battle with uterine cancer, and her body finally succumbed to the struggle. Grandma Pauline had been incredibly involved in Madi’s life, and they had been very, very close. Jimmy and I had been mentally bracing ourselves for this loss, but how do you possibly prepare a three-year old child to enter this territory?

The morning that we lost Grandma Pauline, Jimmy and I went in Madi’s bedroom to break the news to her. We had a couple of treasures to give Madi for keeps—the stuffed dog, Willy, that Madi had lovingly given her Grandma to keep her company in the hospital, and a wind-up musical cross that Madi had picked out in the hospital gift shop. I remember the day we bought it. Madi marched into the gift shop and made a beeline right to that cross. There must have been at least fifty different music boxes, but Madi went straight for the cross. There was no way I could deny her. I didn’t even realize that it was a music box until we took it to the register, and the clerk wound it up for us. It played the song “Memories” from the musical “Cats,” which was the same tune that Madi’s music box at home played. It was beautifully appropriate, and Grandma Pauline had cherished it. 

That morning in Madi’s bedroom, as Jimmy and I handed over those treasures to her, we also had to conjure up the right words to explain that Grandma had gone to Heaven. As the three of us cried together, all huddled on her bed, Jimmy and I told our daughter that Grandma had an important job to do—she was going find us a baby. 

Later that day, we were emailed the file about Weifeng Hong, a baby boy from Nanchang, in China’s Jiangxi province, born February 2^nd, 2008. This little guy, born on Groundhog Day, had multiple heart conditions—all of which sounded grave—but what did we know? In hindsight, ignorance was bliss.

So, when the phone rang two weeks later with our news of a baby, I knew in my heart that he was the one. I tried like mad to keep my composure, especially with the kids in the car. I drove straight home and ran inside the house to call Jimmy, praying all the while that after mentally enduring so much with the loss of his mother, he would feel the same way. My husband was cautiously optimistic, and agreed that we should pursue getting more information. I sensed that he could barely wait to get home. 

We were told that he had been found outside the gates of a prominent residential community. There was no birth note with him. He had been sent to the Nanchang Social Welfare Institute by the public security bureau on September 2^nd, 2008, and the children’s department in the Institute estimated his date of birth and named him. On admission, he was about seven months old. 

The report described him as a lovely and fat little boy, with big bright eyes and white skin. His development was normal, and his personality sounded perfect to us. How does one possibly give up their child after seven months of togetherness? It still tortures my heart to think about it. Whoever placed him there must have loved him and cared about him. It is likely that they couldn’t provide the medical care that he needed. 

Jimmy and I read his file over and over, just wanting to soak up every detail, and know him more intimately. We stared at his pictures intensely and studied every beautiful detail. Those big, brown eyes were calling for us to come back to China. For those of you who haven’t adopted a child, the idea of falling in love with a photo may sound strange. But I can assure you that it actually happens. Perhaps it is the same feeling that biological parents experience when they see the first ultrasound image of their unborn baby—that pure love that swells into a tidal wave of hopes and dreams."

 

If this part of our sweet boy's life and the journey that would follow interest you, please order the a copy of the memoir that is dedicated to his life! If you use the Paypal link on this page in the right column to purchase, we can donate the proceeds to orphan care ministries in Daniel's memory!