Good-bye sweet baby....

I will try to find the words when in reality, I have no words. After a restful night of sleep, we woke up this morning feeling very optimistic about the proceedings today. Little did we know that our walls were about to come crashing down. There was a new prosecutor this morning and I believed that to be a good sign. We were asked again to state our names, nationality, jobs, address and so on. Then, the judge asked us to again explain all the diagnosises that we were given with Roman's referral. We stated, yet again, the list that we had memorized over the last several months. She then asked specifically if we were told that Roman had a degenerative muscular or skeletar disease. We had heard no such thing and the Director of the baby home confirmed that Romnan had never been given this diagonosis. The end was near. The last time we came to court, it was delayed because the prosecutor had requested that two of the ten Russian families to whom Roman was offered be invited to court. The judge had decided to instead simply ask for a letter with information as to why they refused Roman. One of the families said it was because they noticed that he stood awkwardly and a nurse in the baby home said that he had a degenerative disease (for which they could not provide a name) and that he would be completely unable to walk by the time he was 12. The Director told the judge that first and foremost, Roman had never received this diagonosis and secondly that they only people who were authorized to talk to prospective families about a child's specific diagnosis were the Director herself and the assistant Doctor. The Director also said that it was indicative of the family's intention to adopt that they did not talk to the doctor about this, as there is always a doctor on the premsis when a prospective parent comes to visit. The judge's concern was that the law was not followed in either giving us or the other family the proper diagnosis and/or not followed because he was not properly offered to Russian families first. Because these procedures were seemingly not followed, the judge determined that she would not grant us our petition to adopt Roman Andreevich Belyaev. She made a point to tell us that she saw nothing wrong with us as adoptive parents and that her decision was based stricly on the inconsistencies. Everyone in the courtroom looked stunned. Those are the facts of the matter. We've not yet had time to process through all the emotions of the matter. The worst part, the part that makes it hard for me to breathe is that we will find a way to move on and heal. We've lost our child. We will never hold his chubby form again. We will never kiss him goodnight and help him learn and grow into the man he was destined to become. The part that hurts the worst is not knowing if there will ever be a mommy and a daddy for that precious child. Will there every be a daddy who will teach him about sports and throw ball with him in the yard? Will he ever have a mommy kiss his skinned knees and put magic band-aids on them? We- and I say this with the utmost respect-have joined the ranks of parents who have lost their children. Except there is not the shred of comfort knowing that our child is safe in the arms of Christ free from pain and sorrow. Please Jesus, provide for Roman. We asked for an answer and said we would go until we heard a no. We heard our no, but Jesus, we beg you to provide for the little boy who captured our hearts. Give him a family who knows you so that we can hold him again in heaven. Thank you for every second of every precious moment we got to spend with him. In spite of today's outcome, that was still, unmistakably a gift from you. You give and You take away. We will never understand this side of heaven. I don't understand Your plan right now and we can't see where to go next, but these are all tools for another season in our life. Roman, you will always be ours in our heart. We will pray for you every single day for the rest of our lives and we will go to our grave loving you. We don't regret even one moment of our fight for you. I hope you grow up knowing that you are precious, loved and valuable. I have to believe that God hasn't said no to you. I believe He has said yes that you will always have someone who will pray for you. That's the most we can do for you now, son. Our deepest desire is that prayers are enough to make the difference in your life. May you find a family soon and I hope the ladies with whom we've worked will tell you that you were our delight. From the bottom of our hearts, we love you and forever will.