My parents asked my sisters and I how we would feel about adopting a baby into our family. I was 17, and my younger sisters were 15 and 10. We all said yes, and I was very excited as my parents began the process of preparing for adoption.

It was not a smooth process. There were two girls who died from sickness on the San Blas Islands before we could pick them up. There was the teenage Mom who changed her mind. There was the hoax baby that never existed. There was the slow bureaucratic regulations and red tape of the foreign legal system. The unspoken cultural rules of that bureaucracy that the social worker had to explain to my parents. I know how I felt through all these events, and I know it can’t compare to what my parents felt.

And finally, the teenage Mom changed her mind again, and Sarah came to live with our family the day before her one month birthday. She was so tiny ... smaller than most newborn babies. She was beautiful and precious to all of us. We were so happy to be able to bring her home.

Sarah wasn’t an easy baby. She was colicky, struggled with constipation, suffered from scabies, and she hardly ever napped. But we loved her. We cherished her. We delighted in her. As she grew, it was amazing how wonderfully she fit into our family. We all marveled at this wonderful gift from God. And yet, we were also amused by her differences ... could food and clothing tastes really be genetic? While the rest of us loved potatoes, Sarah preferred rice, which most of us didn’t really care for. Take Sarah to a fast food restaurant, and it had to be chicken for her ... no hamburgers. Arros con pollo anyone? If we took Sarah clothing shopping, she would admire all the flashy, colorful, sparkly clothing that was very Panamanian, while the rest of us preferred more “sedate” clothing choices.

But in every other way, she fit into our family perfectly ... even in her love for old musicals. We had worried how our extended family would react to us adopting a hispanic - Indian baby. But she was embraced by everyone. At a particular family reunion, a neighbor made a derogatory racial remark about Sarah, and several of my Uncles came to her defense. We were all very impressed with their self-control as they put the neighbor in his place. I left for college when Sarah was 9 months old. My parents were still in Panama, and I returned to the United States. After that, I was only home for the holidays, and that first summer.

Even after my parents returned to the United States, I wasn’t home very much. I’ve watched Sarah grow up from a distance, for the most part. My younger sisters have been able to live close to her and have a more intimate relationship with Sarah than I do. But I cherish her. I cherish the memories of walking back and forth with her when she was colicky. I cherish the delight we all shared in watching her grow and develop. I cherish the memory of her little Mowgli the Jungle Boy resemblance when she would lean against the couch with only a diaper on. I cherish the memory of a 3 year old Sarah as my flower girl. I cherish the memory of a 4.5 year old Sarah holding her first niece on her lap. I cherish the silly games she played with us when we visited. I cherish the memories of her playing so lovingly and patiently with her nieces and nephews. I cherish her as my youngest sister.

Sarah will be 16 this month, and she is so special and beautiful. I know she has wondered about her birth mom. My parents have a few pictures of her birth mom on the day of the adoption, which they saved for Sarah. We know nothing about her birth father. My parents also collected Panamanian and Cuna cultural items before they left Panama, for Sarah to have when she was older. As Sarah approached her teen years, she wanted to know more about her birth mom and her Cuna heritage. My parents were able to give these special treasures to her. I didn’t want to move to Panama, but God had a plan for sending us there. God had another sister waiting for me in Panama. I am so thankful for her.

By April E.
a Christian homeschooling Mom of 6 in Kansas

Shurleen is a homeschooling mom of 8 and Nonnie of 3 in the Pacific Northwest. Shurleen and her husband, Tim, adopted two boys from Liberia to add to their good sized birth family.  The family has been priviliged to have experienced both the best and the worst in their adoptions.