BN Vol. 1 Issue 4: Starting Over

Today has probably been the worst day of Sarah's life, and it certainly ranks in the top (bottom?) two or three of mine as well. Mini Vinny is no longer in our arms. We fought hard and had a lot of people in our corner, but circumstances and the law were ultimately against us.

We found out Thursday afternoon that the birthmom had changed her mind and found another family to be the adoptive parents. We had hoped for some sort of reprieve, but late Friday morning found us handing Mini Vinny over to another set of well qualified parents, although of course in our minds not NEARLY as qualified as we.

It hurts, hurts, hurts a lot. It's more of a selfish hurting for ourselves, rather than pain for Mini Vinny. But he's in good hands, and that really is the most important thing. He is happy and healthy and we have given him the best days of his young life so far and provided a calm and healthy place for him to spend his first hours on this earth. And, we have managed to make an amazing number of friends in the legal and medical profession in our short time here, and they were all (of course) impressed with us, so much so that they were willing to place their professional reputations on the line to help us and help Mini Vinny.

Is the battle for Mini Vinny over? Technically, no, because anything can (and probably will) still happen in the coming days. In reality, probably yes. We are subject to the birthmom's whims, and this particular state's adoption laws are far more favorable to the birth parents than to the adoptive parents. Anything is possible, and we have hope, but that doesn't make this any easier.

So, like we said earlier, we will pick up the pieces and move on, continuing to work on finding a child who needs us to be his or her parents. We have no regrets at all. I think that the joy of experiencing Mini Vinny for a few short days and having a positive impact on his life far outweighs the pain of seeing him go.

Interestingly, near to where we are staying is a prayer labyrinth back in the forest. We spend early Thursday afternoon there with Mini Vinny, contemplating how the labyrinth walk is like the adoption process: oftentimes it seems like you're getting farther away from the goal, but eventually, if you stay on the path, you will reach your destination. We will plan to visit the labyrinth again before we leave town.

We'll be taking some time to be alone as we process this latest turn on the road and cope with our loss. Meanwhile say a prayer for little Vincent Harrison (the name we decided upon), because he deserves as many people as possible to be looking out for him.