A Great Miracle Happened There: Waiting

We hoped a Chanukah miracle would bring the girls to us, but on the eighth night of Chanukah we lit the candles as a two-person family.  We sang the blessings and the light was lifted up, from the shamash (the “helper candle”) to the eight other flames, and we were sad that a miracle didn’t happen here, didn’t happen today.

There is a tradition to place your Chanukah menorah (called a chanukiah) outside to publicize the miracle, lighting the way for neighbors and passersbys.  Our friends and family have been our light this year, asking how we’re doing, what we need.  They have reassured us that the girls will come, that this is just a delay in a lifelong commitment.  Most importantly, they’ve been angry.  My anger bubbles up constantly, as the bureaucratic system pushes between our family members.  Reassurance that this anger is justified, that we are not alone, has given me the needed support to refrain from watching Netflix and ordering in Chinese all day, every day.

Last Tuesday, December 16, the rain aggressively attacked my windshield as I drove first to Sonoma then to Sacramento.  I had just said goodbye to my puppy, for whom I had magically found a home on a beach-side horse ranch among the redwoods.  My sobs had subsided to occasional crying fits, and I started to drive to Sacramento to see the girls.  Before long, Pascale, the girls’ social worker, interrupted the drive with a phone call.

After we hung up, the sobs from earlier in the day returned.  E and S are not allowed to come to our house until a doctor has cleared their placement.  Suddenly, the animals that the girls loved - and were fine around - were culprits against their health, according to the doctor.   We did not know when or if the doctor would clear them.  We still don’t.

It’s over a week later, and the doctor’s office is forever delayed.  The tests that were drawn last Monday - and would take “a week” to return are expected next Monday – two weeks from the test date.  In the meantime, we’re waiting, anxious anytime the phone rings. 

I am a pessimistic person, and I was certain we would have to get rid of all our animals.  But after talking with doctors, nurses, their therapist, and their social worker, I am reassured that the future will hold more than the doom and gloom our social worker predicted.  Our house has is now full of air purifiers, cleaner animals, and cleaner floors – just not rambunctious, messy children. 

I know the real miracle is that we get to have these two girls in our lives, but waiting is so hard.  May the light of the season carry us through the dark times and may these girls come home soon.