We had been praying for a girl named Kiara and her soon-to-be-born baby girl, due the same day as Liza's second birthday, November 29, 2010. She had been confident in her decision for the adoption of her baby. She had big plans to leave her childhood life of poverty behind by attending a university to get a degree in business, to make a life for herself. She already had a nearly 3-year-old daughter and the father of both girls was incarcerated. We met her and though she thought we looked too young in our profile scrapbook (yes, I made a scrapbook. Be impressed.) she had decided she liked us. She believed she had the full support of her mother, and the father's mother. The week before Thanksgiving and 2 weeks before her due date, she officially informed our social worker that Joel and I would be the parents of this baby girl.
Friday morning, the day before the other young Fankhauser Family would arrive for the holiday and the first day of Joel's call weekend, Sarah the Social Worker called to tell us Kiara was in labor and was expected to give birth within the hour. With all of the uncertainty involved in the adoption of the child of a teenager, we had held back much hope. Even with the phone call, I felt as though I were watching someone else receive the news. I did the only thing I could think to do next: mop the kitchen. No newborn would enter my household with as many germs as I thought were visible in the crumb and grime beneath our dinner table.
Mid-mop, I stopped holding back. I had been told my daughter would be born that day.
I called Joel 4 times at every number I had available. I took all the children to Target and Sam's Club. I told them for the first time that the baby we had been praying for would finally be joining our family. We bought a portable crib, a car seat, and bottles. I washed a brand new coming-home outfit and blanket. I began to prepare the way for this little one.
The day was stressful. Normally, a simple trip to any store with all 3 children is enough to wear me out for the week. But also included was coordinating with my friend April who would watch the children late so we could visit the baby in the hospital. We had to figure out how the other Young Fanks would get from the airport in Tulsa to our home in North West Arkansas. Joel had to deal with hospital admissions and emergencies since this was his one call weekend in 6 weeks. But none of this mattered much. We were going to bat for our daughter and we were not going to let her down.
That night, after dropping off our children with an excited family in Springdale, we made our way through the cold and dark to the hospital. And there she was, as tiny and precious as she could be. She was 6 lbs, 10 oz, and 21 inches. She had curly hair and a squishy newborn nose.
To be honest, it didn't felt like she was mine. I somewhat expected this but I couldn't wait to get to know her, to fall in love. We took a picture, but I haven't yet been able to bring myself to post it.
The next day, preparations for her arrival- as well as the arrival of many more Fankhausers- continued. I was about to get dressed to go pick her up and bring her home when Sarah called to inform me Kiara was being pressured by her family to change her plan. Time stood still while we waited.
Around noon, about the time I should have been arguing with the nurses why the baby hadn't been discharged yet, Sarah sent me a text with what I what I hoped was not the final word, "I think she's leaning towards keeping her..." It took the entire weekend before I let go of the possibility that she might stand up to her family. But she didn't.
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It's been 25 days since these things took place. We're in full Christmas mode here; we're shopping, wrapping, singing, eating. But with every reminder as to why we celebrate Christmas comes a very painful, joyful sting. The world once lay silent awaiting the coming of a child. Born unto us that day was our savior; only He could save us. Only He can heal us.
This is the part of the story I hear most clearly this year. It describes the baby I embrace. He is so close to my heart.
'Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying:
"Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,Luke 2. 28-32
you now dismiss your servant in peace.
For my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the sight of all people,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel." '
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