Laying it down.

I'm sharing this publicly because I really feel like we need your faithful prayers. If you haven't read it already, I'll ask that you take a moment to read the post before this one, so that you are caught up.

Just a few days after my last post about our daughter, we received some news that would change everything. Well, almost everything...

Our baby girl's primary medical diagnosis, all along, has been a somewhat "treatable" bone disorder generally caused by a Vitamin D deficiency. She was also noted to have developmental delays that had no tangible explanation. We thought her inability to speak and her late walking were all side effects from rickets and life in the orphanage, and we were ready to deal with it. 

Last week, we received an update containing the most beautiful photo of her, and the wonderful news that our match had been pre-approved. Reason to celebrate.

But along with the photo, we also received an alarming MRI report that had surfaced out of nowhere. It was from an MRI of her brain that had been taken when she was one-year old, and it indicated that she has a very serious brain abnormality--one that is not likely treatable. I felt the walls crashing down around me.

As you might imagine, Jimmy and I were devastated. My tears flowed for two days. We felt so helpless about all of this. This match felt so right, and it felt so good. I mean, I just wrote my last blog post about how much we love this child, and do you recall this mighty quote given by a friend?

"I think that it is perfectly normal to have fear, even when the child is meant to be yours. But courage is not the absence of fear, it is action in the face of it. Anything that might come up that you weren't expecting, well, you will rise up to meet that challenge and it will feel like a privilege to do it because you love her."

And do you recall my response?

"And each day, as we've looked at our baby's precious face, we've realized that we do love her, and we simply can't afford to be afraid of the unknown. Or we might just miss the blessing of a lifetime."

So...what has changed? We still love her, and we still might miss the blessing of a lifetime if we say no to this precious child who has already found a place in our hearts.

Do you have any idea how difficult this is? If I were carrying this child in my belly, would I deny her a chance at life? NO...I wouldn't. So, now, because we've received this new information about her, we're contemplating whether to accept her or not?  My heart aches right now...

Jimmy's reminded me that we can still love her, even if she's meant to be in another family. But I still feel like she's meant to be in ours. As I type this, tears stream down my cheeks. This is a painful process.

We've already had two trusted medical professionals indicate that her condition is "not good." And the more I learn about this diagnosis, and all that the unknowns "could" mean for her future, it sometimes makes me want to curl up into a little ball, and I feel certain that we are in no way equipped to handle her needs. But then each day brings a new feeling of hope. This week, I am trying to get this MRI report to some pediatric neurologists for review, and we will remain hopeful for something...some shred of evidence that this isn't as serious as it seems.

Will she be our daughter? I don't think we're prepared to answer that yet. I hate that we are fearful. I hate that I have written a book about listening to the Holy Spirit and leaping in faith, and now we are the ones who are afraid to dive in with both feet. I feel like our faith is being tested, and we're not passing the test right now.

I hope that you won't pass judgment against us, whichever path we choose to take. We are human. It has been a difficult week, and this is not a comfortable place to be. We have two children who we need to consider in all of this, too.

Please pray for our baby girl. Please pray for our discernment.

I know the sun will still shine, but I will grieve the loss of this child in our family should we choose not to adopt her. I am laying this burden at the foot of the cross, and I have to remain faithful that God will show us the way.