"I think we should consider adopting older children."  My husband looked at me thoughtfully from across the room and considered what I had just said.  We had not even finished the foster to adopt training but already, over the last two years, had been disappointed twice with failed adoption attempts pursuing adoption through other avenues.

Our seven year old son (our only biological child) reminded me daily that he was lonely and wanted siblings. 

"I mean, think about it.  Ezra isn't going to EVER be able to play with a baby, should we actually be matched with one.  And he really wants playmates, not just a baby sister or brother.  I really think we should consider it."   

Tim looked down at his hands, thinking.  I'm not sure exactly when he said yes but as soon as he did, I was on the computer, scrolling through the SNAP website, looking at all the kids who were at least 2 years younger than Ezra.  Adorable 4 year olds and sad looking six year olds stared up at me from this website where I felt like I was shopping for children.  It was depressing.  And I felt guilty for being excited as I meandered through the site's pages, reading descriptions and trying to find a child who seemed a match for our family.

And then it happened.  I was staring into the sparkling eyes of a brother and sister. She had curls in her hair and he had hair that stood up on end.  They caught my attention immediately.  I can't remember what their description said or why it stood out to me--there were too many cute kids on that website to count--but I was drawn to them. 

I immediately emailed our information to their case manager through the site and downloaded their picture.  By that evening, they were hanging on my bulletin board and as soon as Tim got home, I was describing them and showing off their picture.

The next day I went back online to look at their description again and it was gone.  Their picture had been removed.  I was so bummed.  They must have already been adopted.  For some reason though, I kept their photo on my board and I prayed for them.  I wasn't sure who they were or where they had ended up but maybe that was why I was drawn to them.  So I prayed for them and went back to my search.

The summer passed.  We got a couple of calls for sibling groups that were large and seemed too much for us to handle.  We had a rule that the oldest child in the group had to be at least two years younger than Ezra and none of the calls matched that criteria. So we waited. 

In October I finally ran across a girl I thought would be a good match for our family.  She was two years old and her parents had died, leaving her with a great grandmother that was over 90 years old. She had been well loved but her grandmother was simply too old to keep her.

I was pretty excited.  Being matched with a child who hasn't been abused is pretty rare in the system.  And at the time, we were more concerned about growing our family than we were about serving orphans. I applied and we actually got invited for an interview!

So on October 20, 2006 we arrived in Fort Wayne, Indiana to be interviewed to adopt a child.  We were one of four couples and as soon as I walked in I realized we wouldn't be chosen. 

This little girl was African American and sitting across from us was a wonderful couple that anyone would love to be around.  They also happened to be African American.  I knew, being white, that we wouldn't be chosen that day.  And even though I knew it was probably the right thing for this little girl, disappointment filled my heart.  Another chance to adopt, lost.

We went through with the interview and I remember having the distinct feeling that this interview wasn't for a two year old girl who had never been abused.  The social worker asked us questions about how we felt about children who had been exposed to meth and what were our feelings about children who displayed extreme behaviors.  I left feeling a bit confused.

That night, we got the call that we hadn't been chosen for the girl we had been hoping to adopt.  However, the social worker asked us if we would be interested in a brother and sister.  They were also up for adoption and had been difficult to place.  Their names were Billie and Dakota.  I about lept out of my chair.  I asked her to repeat their names and when she did I blurted out, "Their picture is on my bulletin board!"  She was confused to say the least.

I explained what had happened and told her we had sent our home study in months before and had never heard back.  She apologized and said that the case worker on their case had gotten overwhelmed and that they never really got matched.  The first people they had been matched with filed for divorce after their third visit and the case worker never pursued any of the other home studies she had received after that placement had failed.

A month later we were sitting in a room in South Bend, Indiana, being interviewed again.  This time the interview was more serious and the tone was not as hopeful.  We were warned that these children may never love us.  They may be institutionalized by the time they reached their teens and their behaviors were violent and sometimes destructive. 

We told them we were ready. (Of course, we weren't--even after reading a LIBRARY of books about adopting.) We told them we would stay committed to them no matter what (that part WAS true) and that we were willing to take the risk. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.

And a few hours later, we were the new parents of a 5 year old girl and a 6 year old boy.  We laughed and cried and hugged each other, knowing this was only the beginning but feeling like someone had just handed us a huge gift, along with a massive responsibility.

And I suppose I did say I would tell you why we said yes to these particular kids.  The short answer is, I really don't know.  I just knew they were supposed to be mine.  And that was enough.