February 7, 2012

Sometimes dreams don’t come true.

We’ve spent the last four years fighting to be able to provide Akyl a family and a loving home. I haven’t fought harder for anything else in my whole life. I never knew I could love someone I barely knew so deeply. Our love for Akyl has only grown stronger and deeper over the last four years. There hasn’t been a one second in the last 1,500 days that we haven’t thought about him, and imagined him here with us. We never once thought of giving up on him, we were the only people in the world that wanted so desperately to provide for him. And let me tell you, it’s incredibly hard to provide for your child half a world away. We often felt like we weren’t doing enough. We’ve had to watch him grow from a tiny three-month old baby, into a beautiful young toddler through pictures, second-hand stories, and most recently, through Skype calls. We were blessed to be able to Skype with him a few times last spring. On our first call he was a little nervous. He just sat in a little chair across from the computer and kept eating the cookies that he was given. On the following calls he had friends with him, and he was an energetic, silly little boy. We loved watching him interact with the other kids. He even discovered the microphone and thought it was hilarious to say “Privyet!” a thousand times over and over. Of course we encouraged it!

On June 24, 2008, we were matched with our Akyl. It was love at first sight. We knew before even opening the attached medical forms and additional information that he was our son. I had seen him in my dreams and couldn’t believe that my dreams were actually coming true. We were told by our agency that we should be able to bring him home in the fall. We were so elated!

In the fall we were told, “In a couple weeks.” In a couple weeks, we were told, “In a few more weeks.” In a few more weeks we were told, “In a couple months.” By then it was early 2009, and in February, the Kyrgyzstan government put a one year moratorium on inter-country adoptions. We would have to wait a year to be able to bring our boy home. I traveled to Kyrgyzstan in March for Akyl’s first birthday. We decided that a first birthday is important, and he deserved to have someone there to celebrate.

2009 turned into 2010, and 2010 into 2011. We never wavered in our dedication to getting him home. In late 2011 Kyrgyzstan finally passed a new Family Code that allowed for inter-country adoption to resume. Our agencies had to reapply for accreditation, and once they were accredited it was game on. In January, one agency was accredited, and the race was on to get our paperwork together for the new agency and to begin compiling our dossier (for the 4th time). Over the years Kyrgyzstan has promised us to make every attempt in legally re-matching us to our children. I applied to the new agency and got the necessary paperwork together in order to get started. I threw together our dossier in about a week and was just waiting on one document from immigration before sending it to Kyrgyzstan. In the weeks leading up to CWA’s accreditation, several families learned that their children had been adopted domestically in Kyrgyzstan. This was a huge blow, especially after all this time, for the kids to be adopted domestically right when we are finally able to submit our dossiers and go get them. I was devastated. While we were celebrating the chance to finally move forward, some of our dearest friends were mourning the loss of their children. By this time, the number was up to twenty. 20 children had been adopted domestically in one month. 20 children, who have had families in America all this time.

We had been waiting for weeks for CWA to officially verify Akyl’s status. They told us it was difficult because Kyrgyzstan doesn’t want to give information about specific children until paperwork is filed in country, but the families didn’t want to file paperwork unless they knew their child was going to be able to be re-matched to them. On Monday, I finally got an email that said they were able to verify Akyl’s status and he is indeed available for inter-country adoption. You can imagine how relieved I was. Best news so far – we couldn’t wait to go and get him!

Then Tuesday I got a phone call. It was the phone call we have all been dreading since we learned that so many children were being adopted domestically. I was told that Akyl’s relatives have been visiting him during the suspension and have decided to take him in. I was dumbfounded. You just told me yesterday all was good and it was a go. What do you mean?? Are you sure you called the right person? This must be a mistake…

Tuesday, February 7, 2012 turned out to be the worst day of our lives. We’ve lost him. To say that we are devastated would be an understatement. I have not been able to take in a full breath since that phone call. I feel completely empty. Where is he? How is he being treated? Who came for him? WHERE IS HE?

I can’t breathe.

How can this happen? Where is he? Can he feel my heart breaking? I was told by a friend that Ryan and I are some of the most dedicated parents they knew. Are we? Did we do everything possible in our power?

We failed to protect him.

We failed to keep him safe.

I can’t breathe.

Another friend reminded us that he was loved for all this time, and for some orphans they never know what true love is. Did he feel our love from 7,000 miles away? Or did we just convince ourselves of that in order to cope with the painful wait?

In the last couple days I have been able to connect with a friend in Kyrgyzstan. Akyl is still in the orphanage. He hasn’t been taken in by anyone yet. The Kyrgyz government has issued an order to the police department to find relatives and birth families for our orphaned children. They are making every attempt to have them take the children into their homes. I don’t understand why this is happening now. Why not two years ago? Why did the children need to suffer in an institution all this time?

We don’t know what to do. We don’t know how to cope. We don’t know how to imagine our lives without him. We don’t know if we are happy that he is being taken in by relatives. Will they love him as much as we do? Will they do everything in their power to keep him safe and provide the best life for him?

I can’t breathe.

Sometimes dreams don’t come true.