Can't Smile Without You

We crossed the ocean for a little girl, dreaming of braids, bows and a tiny hand to hold. Our whole family cherished the idea of a sweet little girl to love.

For the first time in 20 years of parenthood, we paid attention in the girl toy aisle. We shunted poor Elijah to the basement so that we could transform his upstairs boy room into a girl room, all bright colors and butterflies. We dreamed big dreams and prayed big prayers.

When the time came, we stuffed our bags with princess toys and crossed the ocean, focused on our little girl.

Deep in our hearts, though, we knew that our dream might not come true. So we remained cautious. Instead of painting our girl room pink, we painted it bright green-- something that would go fine with either gender. The butterflies on the walls are appliques, easily removed. We bought not a stitch of girl clothing, although a friend who works at a clothing store bought us some because she simply couldn't resist.

As single-minded as we were about adopting a little girl, we always remembered that nothing about adoption is ever certain until it's done. As our facilitator reminded us the other day, "Man proposes, but God disposes."

After what happened on Monday, we thought that perhaps we'd been too single-minded in our pursuit of a girl. So we opened our minds to other possibilities.

Overwhelmed by the number of options before us, we decided to go back to what we know: boys who have strong minds, yet have been confined to institutions because of physical weaknesses.

And boy, did we hit the jackpot. We crossed the ocean for a little girl, but found instead the most precious little boy imaginable.

Ian (don't get too comfortable with the name, as it's going to change soon).

Ian has been waiting all his life for someone to call him "son." He has cherished the idea of having a family, holding it up as the highest goal of his young life. Our facilitator tells us that he pestered her every time she visited his orphanage, begging to know if she'd found a family for him yet.

The story of his early life is astonishingly similar to Aaron's. The two were born within four weeks of one another.  Both were originally named Ivan, familiarized as Vanya. Both were diagnosed with arthrogryposis, although Ian's diagnosis might be mistaken. Because of these diagnoses, both were abandoned at birth. Both were raised in baby houses until age 5, when they were transferred to long-term institutions.

After that, their stories diverge. One went to a rural level 4 mental institution, where he did nothing but sit in a shed for a year. You know the rest of Aaron's story.

The other...

Ian went to a completely different institution, an urban one with a director who lives to fight for her children. Finding that Ian couldn't walk, she somehow scratched together funds to send him to Italy for surgery-- not once, but twice. Thanks to those surgeries, Ian now walks, although his gait is still painfully poor. This same director provided physical therapy, schooling, music, dance and even swimming. Along the way, she taught Ian to be kind, caring and polite, instilling in him the tenderest of hearts.

Knowing how Ian would thrive in a family, Ian's director strove to place him with his birth mother. Somehow, she convinced his mother to take him in one summer, hoping she would fall in love with his sweet nature. At the end of that summer, though, his mother sent him back to the institution.

We were sitting in the orphanage waiting area learning all of this when we saw Ian for the first time. The director, social worker and a nurse were all sharing Ian's story through our facilitator/translator, shedding a few tears as they spoke.

No one called Ian into the room. According to Ian, he only happened to come upstairs because he couldn't find his teacher. Maybe so, maybe not! At any rate, all of the adults invited him in and told him who we were.

The look of wonder on his face was simply unforgettable. With just a hint of shyness, he came right in and sat down between Rob and me. Minutes later, he was already leaning into us as if we'd known him for years. Hardly an hour passed before we told our facilitator that yes, we absolutely want him.

The rest is a story for another day. For now, we are thrilled to report that our adoption is on track, and we don't anticipate any more problems beyond the unavoidable ones, i.e. paperwork and bureaucracy. Thanks to the support of so many of you, we expect to bring home a very happy little boy!