parenting & Family life
And Then You Came for Me: A Story of Adoption and Faith by Matushka Lauren Huggins
O
ne morning in the fall of 2008, as the sun rose over our home in Colorado Springs, my two-year-old adopted son and I were sitting at our breakfast table. He was born in Ethiopia and had been living with us for about a year. Between bites of cereal, he said something that took me aback: “Mommy, when I was in the orphanage, I was looking all around for you.” His eyes became as big as saucers, and he turned his head from side to side. “I was waiting and waiting for you and wondering when you would come... and then you came for me!” Since our engagement, my husband and I had known we would like to adopt. We had been inspired by a family in our church who had adopted five brothers and sisters from Mexico, though they already had several birth children in high school. They were not wealthy, but it didn’t seem to matter, as they always had joyful smiles on their faces. After I gave birth to a son and daughter, our desire to adopt only grew stronger. I was working as a nurse and my husband taught special education. We knew the love that parents have for children firsthand and we wanted this love to multiply. For us, as a young family, it was a way of striving to fulfill Christ’s commandments. Why did we decide to adopt children from Ethiopia? In part, it was because we had family living in Africa whom we had visited previously. Another factor was that Ethiopia has a large Orthodox population with deep historical roots. We wanted to help our children connect with this piece of their heritage. The paperwork was overwhelming! The adoption agency put us through an extensive home study, delving into personal issues from our past. We went through background checks and psychological testing, and we had to prove we could provide financially for the new children and give them health insurance. We were also surprised by the up-front cost: the fees, we learned, would amount to at least
$25,000, and might run as high as $50,000. However, we applied for several grants and thankfully received one. We sold a car. Our extended families chipped in, and the Ethiopian ladies of the church cooked a feast to help us raise money. The hardest part of the process was, was… WAITING. I would check my email several times a day, hoping for any piece of news. We had to remind ourselves that our child had suffered much more to be in the position to be adopted. After 12 months, the time came for us to travel to Ethiopia and finally hold our new baby in our arms. We went to a large, well-organized orphanage in Addis Ababa, the capital city of Ethiopia. From our guest house, we were awakened each morning by the sounds of roosters crowing and the Orthodox morning prayers being chanted in Ge’ez (an ancient Ethiopian language) over the loudspeaker throughout the town. After that, the Muslim prayers would start over the loudspeaker as well. It was a joy to walk into the room where our new little one was being cared for by attentive nannies. A year after we brought him home, we returned to Ethiopia and adopted a second child, a 7-month-old girl. 43
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