I am so excited to have linked up with Write It, Girl on the Tuesdays in March! I’m sad it’s over. What is Write, It Girl you ask…it’s a time to write whatever you’ve got on your heart! You just write it, girl. Here’s more from their about page:

“Write with confidence in your space; that little corner of the web He’s given you. Ask Him to give you a vision for what He wants with your words and write it, girl.”

I’d love for you to join this community where we can encourage each other and make the declaration, we are writers! Link up with Write It, Girl’s new site!

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Click. I remember taking a picture of those two four year old girls. Their smiles were large and wide. They were so cute together. My heart was so full of joy. My smile, I am sure, was large and wide along with them. We got along so well. I was imagining the rest of our lives together the entire two hour ride back home!

This was the first time Michael and I were meeting these twin girls that would soon come to live with us. We were going to be taking over custody of them with hopes that we would get to adopt them and they would become our daughters. I remember that beautiful day. We played and laughed and were so happy. It was the beginning of our expanded family.

A few weeks later, however, our plans were halted and fell apart.

We had prepared a room for them, and bought lots of pink, including an adorable doll house. The girls were supposed to move within the week. However, it all came crumbling down. Without sharing too many of the specifics, the birth mother decided she wanted to fight some more for her girls and that she wanted another try. The phone call came and our dreams with those two beautiful girls vanished.

My heart was devastated. I cried the ugly cry. I just didn’t understand. Michael and I had already suffered through infertility for the past three years, at this point, and I wasn’t ready to experience this loss now too.

This happened three years ago this month.

I work as a mother’s helper for a family that used to go to our church. A few weeks ago, I was brushing their 7 year old girl’s hair, preparing to put it in french braids.

My mind drifted away. I remember the day we first met those two beautiful girls that almost became family. After I took their picture they asked if I would do their hair. It was dark, long, and thick. I french braided the hair on both of their heads. It was the first of many times I would do that, in my mind. That’s what mothers do.

I was brought back to the present time by a couple of bickering boys. I finished the girl’s hair and thought about how that day with those two girls seemed so far ago. Then I realized that as I was braiding this 7 year old’s hair, I could have had two 7 year old daughters, if our plans hadn’t fallen apart.

I could not keep my exposure. I went to the bathroom and attempted to catch my breath. I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest, I struggled to breath. The tears flowed. My heart felt so empty.

Even though our adoption fell through with these twin girls three years ago, my heart still breaks for them. I grieve the loss of the dreams I had of our life together. I can still see their faces, smiling wide through the camera lens.

For some reason, those girls weren’t in the Lord’s plan for my life. I don’t know why. I don’t understand.

But this I know, my heart breaks for those girls.

My heart broke when I heard that less than a year after those girls went back to their biological mother, they were back in the system and needed a home. At this point, Michael and I had just moved to Louisville, so we weren’t able to fight for them.

My heart still breaks when I can picture the curves of their faces in my mind, smiling for the camera.

My heart breaks still.

Adoption loss is real. I know because I feel it even still.