October 12!!!!

A lovely young woman in North Carolina has seen our profile book and chosen us to be the parents of her daughter, who is due October 12. She said we were "cute" and EXACTLY what she wanted: older parents who were unable to have children of their own. Pray for health for the birthmother, health for the baby, and God's orchestration of all the details.

Baby, Maybe?

I'm afraid I'll have to be vague for now, but we are celebrating that a young couple has expressed interest in us as the potential adoptive parents of their daughter. Friends and family who check the blog regularly, please keep this news quiet for now. I'll post more details as I can. We ask for prayer for this family as they make some very hard decisions in the coming weeks.

Update

Several friends have asked about our status recently. After a strange series of events with DSS, it looks like we are not being considered for the little girl I've written of so many times. Last week, we received in the mail an envelope containing out profile book---no note, nothing, just the book.

Days before we received that package, we got a call from a close family friend who is also an English teacher. She knows a student who is due in October and is choosing life for her baby and wants her (yep, another girl!) to grow up being loved by a family that is unable to have biological children. Exciting!

I keep telling myself, "Don't get emotionally invested this time. If it doesn't work out, it's not your child." That's pretty easy to do up front, right? We've been through five our six of these not-gonna-happen adoptions, but we keep putting feelers out there.

This afternoon, I was sprawled out on my classroom floor organizing and filing while trying to wrap up the school year. One of my freshman girls was helping me, and out of the blue she said, "I really hope you get a baby, but if you don't, you can adopt me." So many parents ask me if I have children, and I've begun to say, "Yeah, I've had about 2000 of them." I'm ending my 20th year of teaching tomorrow, and nothing makes me cry faster than a teenager expressing love. Another girl texted me last night at about 10:30, "I passed my EOC! I love you."

Please continue to pray for God to show us our child . . . or children . . . or his will that we not be parents. Hands open, palms up.

An Odd Conversation

I spoke with the social worker who called Stan last Friday, and I didn't get much information from her. Here's the short of it: The little girl is not up for adoption, so we can't adopt her. Her answers were evasive and cryptic, and she told me that some of the information I have is false. I feel like I'm in the middle of some girl drama between two of my freshmen! When the "she said" business is over, I hope we have some clarity. Until the court date in May, there's is only one thing to do: pray for the right family.

Uphill

The roller coaster is climbing right now, and we're still holding on. We got a call on Saturday from the family that is advocating for us with the judge in charge of the little girl's case, and they don't think it's over. According to her, the judge makes the decision, and he won't announce it before May. We learned some disturbing news about the child's living conditions, and we long for her to be in a permanent, healthy, safe situation. Angie will call DSS on Monday to get clarity.

A Closed Door

Stan got a call from DSS today that the girl we were hoping for is not available for adoption. The social worker could not give details, but I suspect that the child was placed with another family that was already in the DSS system. We're really sad but trust that God has orchestrated the right family for this little one.

May Court Date

I e-mailed our contact who once had custody of the two-year-old I've been writing about (for those of you keeping up with the story, this is woman #4). She dropped off our profile book, home study, and letter at the office of the judge who will be hearing the child's case in May. She hasn't heard anything from the judge, and neither have we. Please keep praying for God's orchestration of placement for this precious little thing.