In September of 2007, I was full of hopes and dreams. Seven years into marriage with Will that was perfect for me even though it wasn't perfect. Two nephews that I loved more than life itself thriving in our home in spite of their mom, my sister's death. Waiting for the day a referral would come through from Guatemala and we would FINALLY at long last have a baby of our own seemed to take forever, but my heart KNEW without a doubt that our day was coming.
A few thousand miles away in Guatemala, a woman gave birth to a beautiful baby girl on September 26, 2007. She made what had to have been a crushingly difficult decision to allow her precious daughter to be adopted. I don't know why she made that decision-perhaps she couldn't afford a baby, perhaps she had big dreams for her baby to have opportunities and options she didn't have herself, perhaps her family didn't approve and she was just scared. I'll probably never know the why, but I will always remember how hard that decision must have been for her in that moment.
We didn't find out our baby had been born for a few more days-it take some time to get all the paperwork together and sent between two countries. But in October, we got the call from our adoption agency. There was a baby girl for us to consider. Will was floating somewhere on a boat in the ocean and I was sitting in the office of our adoption agency when we first saw her little face appear on the computer screen. She was perfection. Everything I had ever dreamed about. Will and I were thousands of miles apart from each other and from her, but a family was born that day. It was one of the best days of my life.
For one short week, my sweet girl was in my arms. I barely put her down the whole time and she was such a sweet and happy baby. Quick to smile, rarely crying, and loving to snuggle she was everything I could ever have wanted. My heart was full. My arms were full.
Early in the morning of January 7, sweet Ariana Maria drifted away in her sleep and never woke up again. Her foster mom found her unresponsive when she went to check on her in the night. Nobody really knows what happened. Perhaps aspiration pneumonia. Perhaps SIDS. Unfortunately infant death is not that uncommon so no autopsy or untying like that was done.
Our Guatemalan attorney didn't inform us of her death for another full week, so by the time we got that awful call that our daughter was gone, she had already been buried. I'll never forget that call. I was in the bathroom giving my little niece a bath when the agency called. That call was one of the worst moments of my life. My sweet baby was gone and I didn't even get to be there for her burial.
I read a quote once that said "Grief is the price of love". It is so true. The love I have for sweet Ariana has nowhere to go, so it falls down my cheeks in rivers of tears, just like the love I have for her Daddy. I miss them so desperately. I'll leave you with the lyrics to a song that sums up how I feel about this time of year:Summer has come and passed
