Trusting God's calling to adopt

By Lisa Ellsbury

April 29, 1987 started out like any other day. I went to work. Mom picked me up and dropped me off at the hospital to meet my husband for our second prenatal class. 

My water broke along the way.

All of a sudden, words like “emergency C-section” and “life flight” were being said. We frantically called our family. 

The helicopter arrived and they strapped me in. My husband followed by car. The doctors said there would be no waiting -- the boys needed to be born now. 

I had never been so afraid or felt so alone. 

At 12:04 a.m. that night our boys were born almost 12 weeks too early. 

Kyle died 5 days later. I held my son for the first time as he took his last breath.

A few days later, I stood in a cemetery and watched my husband pick up a little white box and sit it down at the gravesite. 

Trusting God’s plan

The next 14 months were spent sitting at Codey’s bedside and praying for a miracle. Somewhere in those first few months, Dan and I decided to stop waiting for Codey to die and to start celebrating every day he was alive. 

To do that, we had to stop being angry and trust God and His plan.

If God is perfect, then there can be no mistakes. I either had to trust that God could make good come out of the bad, or I had to give up my faith. 

Thankfully, Codey lived, and we brought him home, and we prepared for life as a parent to a child with special needs. 

We had two more children, a boy and girl, and Dan became a physician. It seemed fitting that Dan would care for sick and premature babies after all that we had been through. 

A baby left to die

While Dan was doing his fellowship, a mother delivered a baby girl in his hospital. There had been pre-adoptive parents chosen for this baby, but a last-minute ultrasound showed a serious heart defect and the pre-adoptive parents backed out.  

The birth mother was presented with three options: A 3-stage surgery process, a heart transplant, or to let the baby die. The birth mother was not prepared to care for this baby and chose to leave her in the hospital to die.

My husband fell for this little girl. He bought booties for her feet and stuffed animals for her bed. He wrote an order that the nurses had to rock her every hour. He came home heartbroken that no one was celebrating this little girl’s life. 

It didn’t take long for us to realize we were the perfect parents for her. We had already had a child die. We knew that we could love her and survive the loss. 

‘We named her Hope’

When we presented this to our children, our 11-year-old son said that no baby should die alone without a name. Our 6-year-old daughter fell to her knees and begged us for this sister. 

She said she understood the baby could die but that Kyle was still her brother, even though she’d never met him. 

We agreed. We named her Hope, which means faith and trust.

Thankfully, Hope survived 3 heart surgeries and we brought her home.

Dan finished his fellowship. We moved to Des Moines and Dan’s medical career flourished; he became the Director of Clinical and Quality Improvement for a national company. 

He indirectly cared for 100,000 babies every year. And to top it all off, we had another little girl.

‘An older mother, or no mother at all?’

At the age of 45, Dan came to me about adopting again. He reminded me that Codey, who was now 22, would always live with us. We had a big house, a great job and lots of love to give. 

I still said “NO!” I thought I was too old to adopt.

But then I read a book by Mary Beth Chapman that asked, “Was it better for an orphan to have an older mother or no mother at all?” 

My heart was changed. We began the process of international adoption for a little girl from China 

We showed up in China and found two of the most shut down, sad, little, hungry children. Ben literally ate for an hour when we brought him back to the hotel room.

The very next day we went to visit his orphanage. We noticed how eerily quiet it was. No noise in the baby room, and rooms filled with little kids in cribs. There were no toys to be seen. 

They took us to Ben’s floor where he slept. Ben wouldn’t let go of my husband. The nannies tried to coax Ben out of Dan’s arms, but he buried his face farther into Dan’s neck.

My heart was broken. What would cause a little boy to hang on to a total stranger and refuse to go back? 

A whisper of ‘Four’

Before our plane hit the ground in Des Moines, I knew we would adopt again. 

We started our paperwork, and we heard God whisper the number four.

China only allowed two children to be adopted at a time, but we put four in all the paperwork. We thought it would never happen.

God had other plans, though. In the most miracle-filled, crazy year of our life, we headed back to China, this time to adopt four children. 

If you are trying to keep track, here’s the recap – five biological children, one adopted domestically, and 6 from China for a grand total of 12 children. 

We thought we were done. But God wasn’t. 

‘Doesn’t she look like an Ellsbury?’

Our daughter, adopted just before she turned 14, told us what it was like for a child in a wheelchair in China. She begged us to go back and we did, for two more.

We said we were done. But then a good friend sent us a picture of a little girl and asked, “Doesn’t she look like an Ellsbury?” 

Our daughters, Elyse and Grace, believed this little girl was their sister. It wouldn’t take long for the rest of our family to agree. We went back for two more. 

Dan and I now have 16 children.

My life is nothing like I planned it on the day Dan and I wed. I’m not sure I would have said, “I do” had I known what was about to happen. 

But 32 years after the worst year of my life, I can see a bit of the threads of the tapestry God has been weaving in my life. 

Without Kyle’s death, we would have never been brave enough to bring home 6 more children who had serious, life-shortening conditions. 

Without Codey’s special needs and living with us forever, we would have never taken in the children we did, children who will need lifelong care. Nor would Dan have impacted so many families like ours.

We often talk about Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (NIV) 

The reality is, God can make the most amazing type of good come out of the bad. I am living proof.

Lisa Ellsbury is on the board of directors of Love Without Boundaries, a nonprofit that works to improve the lives of vulnerable children; they have programs in  CambodiaChinaIndia, and Uganda.

 
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