Seventeen years ago, my husband Gregory and I traveled to Guatemala to claim our daughter and bring her home.
Julia would bring me more joy than I ever thought possible. Nothing, nothing is more important than my daughter’s health and happiness.
A week from today, Julia, Gregory and I will travel back to Guatemala to meet the woman who made it all possible. Julia will look into her birth mother’s eyes and finally see a reflection of her own face. And I will look into the eyes of the woman who unselfishly and courageously gave my life meaning.
Her name is Marina.
The first few shots in this video show my first moments with Julia, age 6-months, December 1999.
We were advised to begin explaining the concept of adoption to Julia even before she could understand. When she was about 3 she asked me if she drank milk from my boobies. “No, you had a bottle.” Time to start ‘splain’in!
Julia lived with a foster family for the first 6 months of her life. This was the required waiting period for the paperwork to clear and we could take her home. If you know anything about the American foster care system, you can understand why I was so anxious. Was my baby being cared for with love and kindness?
We were an American man by way of Poland and Denmark, and an American woman born of Eastern European Jews (and one Italian) with their American daughter of Mayan ancestry. We were in a beautiful restaurant courtyard in Antigua, crying and hugging our family who traveled 5 hours on rough road from the remote hills of Guatemala.
What crazy twist of fate, what wrinkle in the Universe could have caused such unusual circumstances? Welcome to Thanksgiving 2016 and our adoption miracle.
Thanks to everyone following this blog. My hope is that readers will examine preconceived notions about adoption. My aim has been to illustrate that adoption is a miracle to be celebrated – not shrouded in secrecy or shame.