Adoption Archives - Gentle Hands Organization

18

Adoptable.

This little boy was referred to us from another foundation just a few months ago. Born with visual and hearing impairments, he was surrendered for adoption but complications and slow development made the “powers that be” decide he was not adoptable.

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3

The Adoption Suite

We are so thrilled to have the adoption suite finished!

Situated on the 3rd floor of our  building with windows that allow the constant breeze through, this  room is ready for what it was intended for!

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0

THIS is fostercare

To be a foster parent is something special. It isn’t like parenting your own child because from the very beginning you understand that you will say goodbye. And this goodbye is after you have given  security, provided for material needs, taught the child to trust and given all the same love that you would give your very own child. You begin this journey with the child with the knowledge that someday, you will hand this child whom you have come to love so deeply, to someone else to be their permanent and forever family. It is a holy calling, this foster care. I respect our foster families deeply for i too know what it is to love… to give everything you can to a child… for just a season. 


The following was written by one of our foster families who had one of our little ones in their care for almost two years.

If it’s any consolation to us, we did it very well! Even before the adopting parents arrived, Marlies and Chato agreed that from Day 1, they would make a definite and conscious effort to back off more and more until the last two days they would no longer be in [the child’s] consciousness.

It was much harder for Marlies to do because in her mind’s eye, the toddler was hers from the day the child was handed over to them at 2 weeks old. After two years of getting up at night, changing diapers, running medical trips, emergency awakenings, crying, feeding, bathing, and intensive interaction, it is difficult to turn your back so to speak and hand over your charge to someone else whom you had to teach your baby to call “Mami and Papi.”

Another blessing is that [the child] had always known them as Baba and Mutti, so, the names Mami and Papi were reserved for the adoptive parents.
More than once we felt, there were just too many coincidences for things to have happened by themselves .. God’s mightly hand is obvious in all this and His almighty orchestrating maestranza .. the odds are simply too tremendous for:
[1] an abandoned child to have been saved thrice (surrendered by the birth mother, secured by Gentle Hands, entrusted to adequate foster parents …
[2] who happened to be of European stock …
[3] who instilled Spanish European values and language into the child…
[4] who was eventually adopted by European parents from Northern Spain …
[5] after 3 previous sets of parents were interviewed and rejected …
[6] then both adoptive & foster parents getting along so well …
[7] with almost identical values and training …
[8] so the child felt hardly no transition trauma …This afternoon, [the child] went willingly, happily, laughing securely in the warm embrace of her new Mami and Papi, with whom she has had only a week to bond .. the young beautiful golden couple who slowly but surely replaced the old guard .. they, who had changed her, bathed her, fed her, loved her, hugged her and squeezed her .. together, the couple carried [the child] to the car that would take them to their hotel ..

charity with the adoptive parents
[The child] would forever leave the only home she has known for the two years of her short existence…as the older couple, Baba and Mutti, stood in muted silence -both lost in their own private thoughts, juggling feelings, and emotions– under the dark embrace of the lengthening afternoon shadows beneath the front door that had witnessed [the child] run in and out a hundred times before.
When he got home, Baba stared at the strangely empty doorway that would usually resonate with the squeaks of the tiny shrill voice screaming “Babaaaaa” welcoming him home from work, running to him, expecting to be carried up to his shoulders …

Mutti stared out the window of the child’s room that somehow seemed so strangely empty, holding the last of the baby toys and blankies she was storing away .. the same ones that that held the tiny creature who lay so helplessly in her hands in what seemed such a long time ago .. Mutti took one last look at the bouncing two-year old running with her new mami and papi to the car ..

Did the Narra trees that normally stood up straight to form a canopy over the road seem like they were bent down more than usual in a last gentle caress as the car sped past? Did the tiny yellow flowers seem to fall just a bit more thickly like tears and swirled around the car? Nah, just a figment of one’s imagination ..

And yet what was not imagined were the quiet tears shed by the older folks within the depths of their hearts .. tears of bittersweet joy knowing their “baby” which was sadly never theirs since they were nothing more than temporary caretakers, would be assured a bright future with a loving family she can call her own ..

so it is written, so it shall be done .. and the cycle of life goes on!

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