How Elizabeth's Adoption Went Down in Flames: Elizabeth's Adoption Story (part 5)

Our adoption of Elizabeth has failed. And it really doesn't seem fair. After spending about three months bonding with Elizabeth, her tribe (Osage Nation) brought the adoption to a halt. I am going to do my best to explain how it all went down.

I left Elizabeth in Oklahoma last week, and I drove back home to Colorado. I think of her constantly. I am somewhat distracted during the days, taking care of our three sons, and relearning how to run a household. I change the diapers, I tie the shoes, I make the soup. I put one foot in front of the other. But when I wake up during the night, Elizabeth is my first thought. I see her face, with her lips slightly parted, breathing deeply. I see her sleeping in a bed, but where is she? Are these strangers kind? Do they understand Elizabeth like I understand her? Do they realize what she has been through? Please tell me they are not yelling at her and spanking her. Please, God. Keep her safe.

My whole self feels bruised, and I am still in shock. I left our home to be with Elizabeth, back in August, when the neighborhood pool was still open. Someone spun me around and around, and suddenly stopped spinning me, and here I am, standing somewhat bewildered and wondering how there could possibly snow on the ground, and why we are about to celebrate the holidays. I feel so disoriented.

Everything was going according to plan with Elizabeth's adoption. Her birth father placed her in our legal custody, and my husband called and put Elizabeth on our family's insurance plan. He texted me a picture of her insurance card. Her name...with our last name, on something that felt official. We were getting there. I had all of her documents, her social security card, her Indian card, etc. I was feeling very much like her mom. I was taking her to the doctor, scrunching her curly hair in the mornings, and reminding her to use her manners. I was reading parenting books and taking classes on parenting kids from hard places. I was learning so many new things, and trying my best to be the mother she needed. Our whole family was excited to all be together again--soon. It was going to be a crazy hard life, but it was also going to be full of adventure and redemption. Life would never be comfortable again, but that was okay. Elizabeth deserved a family and a chance in this life. She was worth it. And God would give us strength.

It was near the end of October, and all of the adoption paperwork was submitted to the state of Oklahoma, and it was just going to be a week or two before we could drive home to Colorado. All we needed was a letter from the tribe, stating they were in support of the adoption. Just a sentence or two. Osage Nation does not have a reputation of intervening in adoptions, so we expected no trouble at all. I am a card-carrying Native American (Cherokee), and usually Cherokees are able adopt children from other tribes. 

When the tribe was notified of the adoption, the social workers from the tribe were absolutely livid. Enraged. They felt lied to. They were upset that Elizabeth's birth father did not involve them in the decision to place her for adoption. And even though it doesn't seem right, because of a federal law called Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA), the tribe has more power than the birth parents. The law was never meant to be used like this. The social workers were angry with Elizabeth's birth father, and someone needed to pay. And unfortunately, this someone would be Elizabeth.

Our lawyer asked if the social workers would be willing to meet with our family, to discuss Elizabeth's adoption. And they agreed. So, in mid-November, Zach and I, and all four kids, drove up to Pawhuska, Oklahoma to meet with the tribe. We were expecting all kinds of favor. We just knew that when they saw us all together, and how Elizabeth had bonded with us, they would agree to her adoption. Nothing could have prepared us for the dark spiritual atmosphere in that conference room. There were five women, all social workers from the tribe, and their hearts were so hard. So very hard. Their minds were made up long before we (and our lawyer) walked into the room.  

They informed us, with straight faces, as though shedding light on the deeper meaning of life, that because Elizabeth was 1/16 Native American, that she would have major issues in life if she was severed from her Osage roots. Unless she learns the Osage language and hears the drums, her life will never make sense. She will never know who she is. She will always have issues with relationships. She will get divorces. I could not believe the words that were coming out of their mouths. Was this legitimate deception, or were they just being spiteful? 

Silly us. We thought Elizabeth's behavioral issues stemmed mostly from living in a meth house for the first 2 years of life, and from being in God-knows-how-many foster homes during her third year of life. We thought it came from being separated from her brother, from going hungry, and from being locked in a room, and covered in feces for hours on end. We thought she would have difficulty with bonding and trusting, because no one soothed her when she cried as a baby, and really because nobody ever gave a damn about her.

The social workers from Osage Nation searched high and low for a family member of Elizabeth's birth mom, whose parental rights were terminated by the state. Elizabeth's birth father did not want her anywhere near this family. The tribe found a second cousin of the birth mom, who says she is willing to take Elizabeth.  

We asked if there was any way we could meet this family, just to know that Elizabeth was safe. The answer was "no." I have a feeling that this second cousin, who has never met Elizabeth, has no clue what she is signing up for. I have a feeling that after a couple of weeks, she will call the social workers, and say "We can't handle her." Is there a chance that we might get a call in a few weeks, asking if we can take her back? Maybe so. 

We may never hear another word about Elizabeth. That is a possibility as well. But you know, if given the same situation, we would have done exactly the same thing. Truly. The events surrounding our meeting Elizabeth were astounding. I feel that we were in God's will, every step of the way. We were in the palm of His hand in that empty little rent house for 91 days, and we were in the palm of his hand, as we drove through Kansas, all of the way home. It was really hard, but we obeyed every step of the way, and we have no regrets. 

We fought as hard as we could, and in the end, felt that we would have a better chance at getting Elizabeth back, if we chose not to fight the tribe further. We were told by three different lawyers that even if we were permitted to bring Elizabeth to Colorado, and even if we had the resources (easily 50-100K) to fight the tribe for 2 years, that we only had a 50/50 chance of winning. And if we did win, the tribe could choose to appeal, and move the entire case into tribal court. We did not feel peace about dragging Elizabeth through a two year legal battle, with these kinds of odds. It would not be fair for her to bond with our entire family for two years, only to be ripped away. This law, the Indian Child Welfare Act, has to change. It's not just Elizabeth, who is being affected. It's not just "baby Veronica." This law takes hundreds of children out of loving and adoring homes, sometimes homes they have been in since birth. Even if a child is 1/256 Native American, the tribe can take the child away from everything they have ever known, and place them with complete strangers. It is just not okay. What about the best interest of the child? The tribe argues that this is in the best interest of the child.  

We cannot deny the fact that God brought Elizabeth into our lives, and while it is impossible to try to make sense of a situation like this, I am convinced that my time with Elizabeth was not wasted. I know it looks like a huge failure, but I know in my heart that we somehow succeeded, if only in loving well. I am under the impression that we may have protected Elizabeth from something unthinkable. 

Who knows what God has in mind? Maybe He will bring her back into our lives. We only know that He promises to work everything together for good, and we are holding onto that.

If you gave toward Elizabeth's adoption, please know that the money is not wasted. It helped us to pay for our Colorado home study and agency fees, and while we were not planning to adopt right now, this experience has positioned us to be able to adopt whichever child God brings into our family. 

Friends, you have been so generous to us. Thank you for helping us care for Levi and Max. Thank you Tulsa friends, for embracing us and for inviting us in. Nothing was wasted. Not one day, not one prayer, not one dollar. God has a plan for Elizabeth, and He is capable of bringing it to pass. We trust Him in the storm and He loves her more than we ever could. 

On my last night in Tulsa, Dr. Barbara Sorrels, an expert child psychologist (whose videos taught me so much about parenting Elizabeth) called me and gave me advice on how to tell Elizabeth that we would not be able to adopt her. I cannot describe how much her counsel meant to me. I felt incredibly favored, and blessed that she would take time to call me. And I took her advice.

During my last car ride with Elizabeth, our last trip to that same McDonalds parking lot, I told her that it was time for me to go back to Colorado, and that I was going to miss her so much. I told her that I loved our times together and that I was so proud of her. I told her there are three kinds of mommies:

There is a birth mommy, and a baby grows in a birth mommy's tummy. 

There is a foster mommy, and a foster mommy takes care of a child for a little while.

And there is a forever mommy--a mommy who loves you forever and ever.

I told her that I really, really wanted to be her forever mommy, but that adults have to follow the rules. And the people who make the rules are saying that I cannot be your forever mommy.

Elizabeth: "But, why mommy?" 

Me: "I don't know baby."

Elizabeth: "But I want to go to Colorado with Levi and Max."

Me: "I know baby. We want you to come to Colorado and be in our family too." "Today you are going to a new place, and you are going to meet some new people. And your are going to go to sleep in a new place. And I am driving back to Colorado."

Elizabeth: "I'll be good mommy." "I'll be good."

Fighting back tears, and trying to be strong, I put a smile on my face, and gave her one last hug. I unbuckled her car seat, and helped her down onto the pavement. I gave her back to her birth father, who was going to give her to someone from the tribe about 10 minutes later. He looked at me, defeated, and said, "We tried our best, didn't we?" I said, "We sure did. We did all we could." He thanked me for all that I did for Elizabeth and apologized for all we had been through. And then we said goodbye. Any that was it. I got back in my car, and headed back to Colorado.  

I felt encouraged on the way back to Colorado. Strangely, I was strong that day. Some days are okay, and some days are really hard. Sometimes I feel pretty down. It will take us a while to heal, and to get back into our rhythm as a family. And while nothing went as we had hoped with Elizabeth's adoption, this week, and always, we will choose gratitude.

Elizabeth, you taught me so much, and I have never met a child with such energy, life, and joy. I will never forget your dark, shiny eyes, and your gorgeous curly hair. I will never forget how hard you tried, and the joy on your face when you hugged me each morning. I will never forget the way it felt to have a daughter, and I will never stop praying for you.

Thank you friends, for loving our family and Elizabeth so well, these past several weeks. We could not ask for better friends and family, and we are so thankful. Thank you dear friends for reading this post and for caring for us deeply during this difficult journey.

Gratefully,

Kate