The Season of Vivienne

In so many ways, December 2nd is a day that is hard to put into words.  The day, in 2013, when we got Vivienne, our "Gotcha Day" for those who speak adoption, has been a very special moment in my life.  It was a morning that simply cannot be described.  I was not as quick to embrace adoption whereas Kelly had been feeling this call for much of her life.  How can we sync these two vastly different places in life and find a way to make this all happen?  It was a question that was running in my mind occasionally--it was running through Kelly's mind every single day.  It is a great testament to her patience (not an adjective I'd use to describe my wife very often) that brought us to the right time.  When I was ready to take the leap with her, we were completely engulfed in the process.

And so it goes that the paperwork, the communication, the neverending optimism of the people that work for CCAI and their encouragement through each step in the arduous process, the delving in to the adoption community and the very real emotions and comraderie that come through the movement of these steps by so many families who then find themselves in the same travel group--the bond that comes from a shared experience (like, we didn't have to know each other well, but the fact that we went to war on the same day and came out victorious---it's that kind of bond), it all culminates in Gotcha Day.  The poeple rooting for us back home; the multitudes who had donated their hard-earned money to make our dream become a reality; the idea that each life is worth the nurture of a family and the care and love that comes from the circus that takes place within our walls each day--I have to both laugh and cry at the same time.  How is it that God can show love in so many different ways?  After the birth of our sons, I didn't think that love to get any bigger or take any other form--but I was so very wrong.

Vivienne has not always been a joy, nor has she always been healthy, nor has she always been easy or accepted completely or the "quiet child" her file described her to be.   But she is home.  Today we celebrate her 4th birthday.  Tomorrow will be her Gotcha Day.  The day after that will be her "plus one day" which means that she will have been with us one day longer than any other part of her life.  She is home.  She had three (at least) amazing caregivers who kept her alive and loved in China.  She had the Baobei Foundation, who literally saved her life several times through their mission to help these children with significant medical needs.  She somehow found her way into our email inbox after another family had (for reasons that are completely valid and true) to say "no" to her file.  And in record time, we were matched with our daughter--long before our paperwork was ready to bring us closer to that moment of getting her.  She had many stops along the way that she might have known as home, but none of a permanent nature.  Now, after all of those caregivers, the temporary shelters, the loving arms that would pass her along, she has been with us long enough to know and trust (we can only hope) that she is with her family.  Kelly and I have recognized that she is starting to reciprocate the love and trust that we've been trying to give her each step of the way.  She's never rejected us, and we have been so fortunate that her adjustment to us has been relatively easy compared to some.  But she has simply become part of us.  Our family moves a bit slower when we move from the car to the house or church or school or anywhere.  And this has helped us appreciate all the wonders around us, because Vivi makes us move slowly enough to see those moments more clearly.

I'm so grateful.  We have been stretched and have pushed ourselves into a new way of being that we knew we always wanted, but which we had little idea about how it would actually be.  Thankfully, we  are having increasing difficulty, as with the addition of any child to the fold, remembering our lives without her.  Thanks be to God.