|Cape Town, South Africa where the beautiful adoption of Susan took place.|
“God, what is happening here?”
Then the month came. I was late, ecstatic with the confirmation that I was pregnant, and I rushed to share the news.
In hindsight I wonder if this was a good thing. Although if the news is shared early and something happens, then those close to you can share the disappointment. Tears rolled down my cheeks as one day I sat in the bathroom with the evidence that there was not going to be a baby.
A woman’s body has been preparing itself for a baby. Then it is gone and her body has to return to normal. The loss is real, and there has to be a time of grieving. Many don’t understand this. Even my husband couldn’t understand my tearfulness. He understands now.
How often I pleaded with the Lord to give us a child. I searched scripture hoping to find some verse that would confirm that one day I would have a child. The months went by—nothing.
Why were my friends and members of my family having babies? I didn’t enjoy baby showers but attended them with a brave face although I ached inside. At church people tactlessly asked when we were going to start a family. My precious sister-in-law erupted into tears when she discovered she was pregnant for the third time—how was she ever going to tell me?
Three years had passed when God answered our prayers in a different way than what we thought. He impressed upon us that he was waiting to give us a child but that there were different ways that children could enter a home. Excitement began to sizzle.
We phoned the adoption agency for an appointment. Six weeks before our appointment I had the most amazing dream, a dream where upon waking I knew that God was telling me something.
In the dream I had a little dark-haired girl. I called her Linda Joy. My husband told me he wanted to call her Linda Heather. The two names, we found out later, meant Beautiful Flower.
A week before our appointment I came down with a really nasty stomach bug. I could hardly lift my head off the pillow and couldn’t keep down any food. I didn’t want to cancel our appointment with the agency on the Friday morning, so the night before I went to the doctor to see if he could give me some medication.
Medication? I didn’t need medication—the doctor’s tests confirmed that I was at least seven weeks pregnant.
I felt so sick, the doctor’s words didn’t really sink in. Too late to cancel our appointment, we made our way to the adoption agency to tell them our news. From the moment of finding out about the pregnancy, I knew that we were going to have a dark-haired girl. We knew what we would name her. God had told us in my dream. Our beautiful flower.
Now I was confused though.
What was God trying to teach me when I had just come to the point of accepting that he had different ways of placing children in families? Maybe I still don’t really know, but one thing I do know: God wanted this little dark-haired baby to be part of our family. On December 2, 1972 Linda Heather was born after a normal pregnancy with not even a hint of a miscarriage. I so enjoyed being pregnant— after the morning sickness had stopped, that is.
As for adopting a baby, I was convinced that the Lord had taken us on a journey of acceptance. I had my little girl, and God obviously in his wisdom did not want us to adopt, so what was the point of waiting? We would go straight ahead and have another baby. We waited.
Three years later we were still waiting.
|Sheila, Edwin, and big sister Linda waiting for their baby.|
We phoned the adoption agency for an appointment.
Young Susan, growing up as Linda's little sister, and Sheila and Edwin's little girl.
Grown up Adoptee Susan ready for her high school prom with future husband Jean Ray.
And years later, as a married adult, Susan meets her birth-mom, Vicky.
Susan and her family, continuing on with adoption. Susan and Jean Ray and their children.