A
I shayred it with someone in CC...thought it would be...help for someone ehre. Im struggling in faith quite a bit right now...so this was wrote a few years ago. anyway enjoi
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here is my adoption stotry, read it if you want to...!
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I do not know my birth story as in physical birth but my adoption marks my emotional, spiritual and symbolic start to my life, a new birth, that God blessed me so I can live and so I can be a blessing to others. God knew he desired my brother and I to walk in Christ, the road is still rocky and I still have some issues regarding my adoption but God knew what he was doing and still does. Sometimes the road is hard to walk and still this quote comes to mind- “thy will be done” and it will be, no matter what happens.
On April 29th, 1983 Alan and I were born in Lakeview, Michigan. At only eleven months we were removed from the natural mother due to a “mental and physical failure to thrive.” We were placed into foster care, the state placed us in the Walcott home, Jeri was a dispatcher for the Montcalm County Police which is also where my dad, Jim Burt, worked as a police offer. My dad and my mom, Deb Burt, kept hearing updates about how Alan and I were progressing. On a few occasions they visited us at the Walcott residence. My parents remember us bouncing up and down in little baby harnesses and my mom said I had the biggest brown eyes. We were just learning how to sit up and roll over.
Several months later, Alan and I were placed into another foster care home, this person happened to be a deputy sheriff where my dad worked. His name was Roger Craig. During the time we were at the Craig’s house, Roger talked with my parents about the high need of foster care parents and convinced them to become licensed for foster care. Once my parents were licensed, they were given two or three other kids through the foster care system but always kept up on the continuing progress of “the twins,,“ Alan and I.
After a while, the Craig’s were having problems so they could not have us at their house. The state called my parents to see if they could take Alan and I in to their home so immediately they said yes! The case worker told them they had twenty four hours to be prepared so they called friends and relatives to make this happen! They acquired two cribs high chairs and more. We were with our parents for nine months total, Alan and I bonded with everyone; family, friends and our parents. During this time we were about two years old.
One day, the case worker called and explained to my parents that Alan and I had to go back to the natural mother. My parents were crushed, everyone knew this bond we had with our parents and the case worker was even sad to send us back. No one wanted to see this happen and my parents stated that after we were gone, nothing was the same. My parents felt we were meant to be with them.
Little to my mom and dad’s knowledge, several months later we were taken out of the birth home and admitted to the hospital in Carson City due to improper care. The case worker could not notify my parents because we were still Wards of the State and my mom would have most likely wanted to take us home. Then we were placed in our fourth foster care home for about a month, we were two and a half to three during this time.
After that month, the last foster care home was called, the last placement we ended up at and the last nightmare of “the system” for my parents ceased. The case worker called my parents from Stanton and asked if they still wanted “the twins”. My dad answered the phone and immediately answered yes without even consulting my mom. My parents had an hour to come to Stanton and pick us up and they did. My dad said we acted like a day never went by, when they picked us up we loaded in the car and all went home. My mom said we even recognized the big red swing on our front porch when we walked in the door, which made her cry. We were family, my brother and I had our own language to talk with each other but knew we were safe.
Alan and I were finally adopted within this year, on April 29th 1987. We turned four, and celebrated with my parents friends and family. I even remember this day, being in court, receiving balloons and playing with the gavel the judge had. I did not know why we were there of course, I just remember this day being a really happy day, my dad explained this as gaining a son and daughter. My parents both explain they always felt we were theirs, from the time we set foot in their home. God had his hand on us and his plan has not thwarted once.
_________________________________________________________
here is my adoption stotry, read it if you want to...!
_____________________________________________________________________________________
I do not know my birth story as in physical birth but my adoption marks my emotional, spiritual and symbolic start to my life, a new birth, that God blessed me so I can live and so I can be a blessing to others. God knew he desired my brother and I to walk in Christ, the road is still rocky and I still have some issues regarding my adoption but God knew what he was doing and still does. Sometimes the road is hard to walk and still this quote comes to mind- “thy will be done” and it will be, no matter what happens.
On April 29th, 1983 Alan and I were born in Lakeview, Michigan. At only eleven months we were removed from the natural mother due to a “mental and physical failure to thrive.” We were placed into foster care, the state placed us in the Walcott home, Jeri was a dispatcher for the Montcalm County Police which is also where my dad, Jim Burt, worked as a police offer. My dad and my mom, Deb Burt, kept hearing updates about how Alan and I were progressing. On a few occasions they visited us at the Walcott residence. My parents remember us bouncing up and down in little baby harnesses and my mom said I had the biggest brown eyes. We were just learning how to sit up and roll over.
Several months later, Alan and I were placed into another foster care home, this person happened to be a deputy sheriff where my dad worked. His name was Roger Craig. During the time we were at the Craig’s house, Roger talked with my parents about the high need of foster care parents and convinced them to become licensed for foster care. Once my parents were licensed, they were given two or three other kids through the foster care system but always kept up on the continuing progress of “the twins,,“ Alan and I.
After a while, the Craig’s were having problems so they could not have us at their house. The state called my parents to see if they could take Alan and I in to their home so immediately they said yes! The case worker told them they had twenty four hours to be prepared so they called friends and relatives to make this happen! They acquired two cribs high chairs and more. We were with our parents for nine months total, Alan and I bonded with everyone; family, friends and our parents. During this time we were about two years old.
One day, the case worker called and explained to my parents that Alan and I had to go back to the natural mother. My parents were crushed, everyone knew this bond we had with our parents and the case worker was even sad to send us back. No one wanted to see this happen and my parents stated that after we were gone, nothing was the same. My parents felt we were meant to be with them.
Little to my mom and dad’s knowledge, several months later we were taken out of the birth home and admitted to the hospital in Carson City due to improper care. The case worker could not notify my parents because we were still Wards of the State and my mom would have most likely wanted to take us home. Then we were placed in our fourth foster care home for about a month, we were two and a half to three during this time.
After that month, the last foster care home was called, the last placement we ended up at and the last nightmare of “the system” for my parents ceased. The case worker called my parents from Stanton and asked if they still wanted “the twins”. My dad answered the phone and immediately answered yes without even consulting my mom. My parents had an hour to come to Stanton and pick us up and they did. My dad said we acted like a day never went by, when they picked us up we loaded in the car and all went home. My mom said we even recognized the big red swing on our front porch when we walked in the door, which made her cry. We were family, my brother and I had our own language to talk with each other but knew we were safe.
Alan and I were finally adopted within this year, on April 29th 1987. We turned four, and celebrated with my parents friends and family. I even remember this day, being in court, receiving balloons and playing with the gavel the judge had. I did not know why we were there of course, I just remember this day being a really happy day, my dad explained this as gaining a son and daughter. My parents both explain they always felt we were theirs, from the time we set foot in their home. God had his hand on us and his plan has not thwarted once.
