 |
| Baby Sarah ten days after I gave her up. |
There
have been a few times in my life when I’ve curled my fist tight and shook it
under the very nose of my Creator.
Unmarried
and pregnant in 1979, I did what a lot of church-going girls did who “got into
trouble.” I made an adoption plan for my baby girl. As much as I didn’t want
to, I gave up the beautiful little infant, Sarah—when she was 3 days old. I wanted
the very best for my little Sarah, and that included a loving dad as well as a
loving mom.
During
the next 20 years, I met and married the sweetest man, and we had 3 beautiful
children, Lana, Kyle, and Robert. But each day when I prayed for our 3 kids, I
prayed for Sarah and her adoptive parents as well. I also prayed for the day
when a grown Sarah and I could meet, and develop a unique relationship as
birth-mom and birth-daughter. I didn’t want to infringe on her relationship
with her adoptive parents, but I figured there was enough love in the world for
an adult adoptee to have both adoptive and biological parents in their life,
with the adoptive parents taking the major role, of course.
 |
Sarah in Kindergarten, just as I always
imagined her.
|
There
is nothing more hungry than an empty womb. Mine, after I gave Sarah up. Oh yes,
I felt that empty womb and wept. Sarah’s adoptive mom suffered from infertility.
Adoption is not all sunshine and roses. Even Sarah as she grew up, hungered to
know who she looked like. Who she came from.
The
day of our reunion, when Sarah was 20 years old, was not the idyllic event I
had envisioned. I figured Sarah and I, my family and hers would all meet on the
day of reunion, and laugh and cry with joy like long lost relatives.
But
people are made up of such different emotional stuff.
Here
is an Excerpt from Finding Sarah Finding
Me on the day of the reunion.
There are plenty of DNA parallels between both my daughters. Sarah
and Lana share similar smiles, their long-legged figures, that hint of
goofiness that I only get a peek at in Sarah, as though it’s a vein of gold I
must dig for. Yet with every sameness there are so many differences. With those
few, slim glimpses into the real Sarah, I still feel that barrier. Her smile is
so quiet, so polite.
The day wears on, and exhaustion reaches its peak for both Sarah
and I, and I know that the little girl I’ve imagined all these years and loved
was truly a phantom. My counselor is so wrong. There’s no way I can win Sarah’s
affections. There’s no natural bond in Sarah to build upon.
As David, Lana, Robert, and I say good night to Mark and Sarah,
with the vague promise that she’ll send us the date and time for the wedding,
we wave as they drive off. As my family disperses to the living room, I lay my
head against the front door, and the sobs erupt. Not quietly this time, like I
cried that day on the maternity ward floor as the cold gray, steel elevator
doors closed—holding in my full despair. This time I howl. This time the
swirling dark waters of loss sweep me fully out of my safe harbor, out to the
depths.
All these years, have I truly understood the magnitude of my loss,
understood what I did in giving up my child?
The kids hear me sobbing, the three of them stay in the living
room out of the maelstrom of my unleashed emotions. David pulls me into the
kitchen and holds me close. I’ve kept a lock on my disappointment all day,
having hoped for so much more closeness than Sarah has been able to offer. Now
it unleashes, a wounded tiger uncaged.
“I’ve prayed for twenty years,” I yell at David as I pull away,
“prayed for twenty years that God would prepare their hearts so that no one
would feel hurt. And this is the best he could do! This… this is the biggest
disappointment of my life!” I cry out, “and God knows I’ve had enough of them.”
David takes hold of me again. I resist, but he holds tight while
my mind fights to sift through the avalanche of my emotions. I want to get to
know my beautiful birth daughter, but my dream lies at my feet like shattered
glass. She is my daughter, but not my daughter. I’m not a part of her family,
nor have Sarah or her parents ever considered such a thing.
Her mom and dad don’t even want to meet me.
 |
Sarah and her adoptive brothers, with their adoptive dad,
Theirs was a love match made in heaven.
|
Poor
Sarah’s parents. Poor me. And poor Sarah stuck in the middle, trying to make
everyone happy.
Adoption
is one of those very human situations that cannot be pigeon-holed. People are
beautifully complex. It took a long time for healing to come, but I stopped
shaking my fist under God’s nose, when I began to see in my journey as a
mother, just how deep His love is for His children.
My
post reunion relationship with Sarah and her family is still not the way I
envisioned it, but God is using our story in fascinating ways.
Finding Sarah
Finding Me
is the braided memoir of, not only my story as a birth-mom, but Sarah’s
adoptive mom’s story, and Sarah’s, in their own words. This book also tells the
stories of several adoption reunions, all in the hope of encouraging people
when they feel all is lost, and not necessarily about adoption.
There
is a very special reason why 100% of my author royalties go to Global
Aid Network Women’s and Children’s Initiative for the lifetime
of the book. But you’ll have to read the book to know how God tied my heart as
a writer with that of my birth-daughter, Sarah’s nursing career.
FINDING SARAH FINDING ME BOOK
DESCRIPTION:
Adoption. It’s something that touches one in three people today, a word that will conjure different emotions in those people touched by it. A word that might represent the greatest hope…the greatest question…the greatest sacrifice. But most of all, it’s a word that represents God’s immense love for his people.
Join birth mother Christine Lindsay as she shares
the heartaches, hopes, and epiphanies of her journey to reunion with the
daughter she gave up...and to understanding her true identity in Christ along
the way.
Through her story and glimpses into the lives of
other families in the adoption triad, readers will see the beauty of our broken
families, broken hearts, and broken dreams when we entrust them to our loving
God.
PURCHASE LINKS FOR FINDING SARAH FINDING ME
ABOUT CHRISTINE
LINDSAY
Irish-born Christine
Lindsay is the author of multi-award-winning Christian fiction and non-fiction.
Readers describe her writing as gritty yet tender, realistic yet larger than
life, with historical detail that collides into the heart of psychological and
relationship drama. Christine's fictional novels have garnered the ACFW Genesis
Award, The Grace Award, Canada’s The Word Guild Award, and was a finalist twice
for Readers’ Favorite as well as 2nd place in RWA’s Faith Hope and
Love contest.
This author’s non-fiction memoir Finding Sarah Finding Me is the true-life story that started this award-winning career in Christian fiction and non-fiction and speaking ministry.
This author’s non-fiction memoir Finding Sarah Finding Me is the true-life story that started this award-winning career in Christian fiction and non-fiction and speaking ministry.
CONNECT WITH CHRISTINE LINDSAY
As a mom of two adopted children and the wife of a man who was adopted as an infant, I know this book had to be very emotional for you to write. We've seen first hand both the beauty and pain on both sides. But I love seeing how God can slowly bring healing to everyone involved. Praying your story ministers to many who have experienced what you have!
ReplyDeleteThank you Lisa. God in His perfect wisdom did not allow me to write the book until He brought about that healing. So many sides to every story. Hugs and blessings.
DeleteSo powerful Christine. Thanks for sharing your heart with us.
ReplyDeleteYep, Rita, but then God works in such powerful ways in our hearts, as we both know so well. Hugs dear friend.
DeleteVery powerful, Christine. I'm of your generation and I know other girls who did what you did, believing it to be the right thing. We all did. My parents-in-law adopted two little girls and, for one, it worked very well, for the other it didn't, as she inherited many of the problems which her underage parents seemed to have. (These were private adoptions, so parents-in-law knew a little about their backgrounds.)
ReplyDeleteThink of it this way. God is with Sarah, even though you can't be as you would like. He went with her that time the lift doors closed on the maternity ward.
Oh for sure Rosemary. As the years passed, God did some amazing things in our relationship. To be honest, He knocked my socks off with His goodness.
DeleteI must also remind readers that this excerpt from the memoir is at the climax of emotional pain. However, there is a beautifully happy ending, but I don't want to spoil that for the readers. Trust me, God knows how to develop our greatest joys out of our greatest pain.
ReplyDelete