While the loving journey to motherhood came with its ups and downs, as time passed, I knew I was being called to adoption from a force greater than herself. My husband and I had been trying to conceive a child, yet every attempt at conceiving failed. After two rounds of fertility treatments, I was broken. I had given up hope that it would happen. But in a dream, I was told to start the adoption process.
I felt in my soul that my daughter and I were meant to be together. Divine Intervention, Energy, God, Universe, however you choose to identify a force greater than ourselves, is what brought us together. Because love, not biology is what creates a parent-child bond.
I had no idea where to start or who to contact, but I knew that the universe was guiding me. This time I listened to the signs it was sending me, and through it, guardian angels heard my wish.
I decided to adopt from Armenia, the place of my ancestors. However, the process was slow because of all the laws surrounding international adoption and there are very few children in Armenia for adoption. It was uncertain if this would ever bring us the child we were so desperately longing for.
At the time, my husband and I were living in a high rise apartment in lower Manhattan. Every night I would go to the roof, high above the city lights, and pray on three little stars for a baby of our own. Each star was a representation of us. One for me, one for my husband, and one for our baby that we knew was on her way. The stars were in the shape of a triangle.
One year passed and no adoptive babies were born in Armenia. The second year passed and still nothing. Yet, every night I continued to pray on the three little stars. Knowing in my soul that one day she would come.
As the third year began, my father, who is from Armenia, told us to go there. “She is waiting for you,” he said. With dwindling faith and lots of fear we boarded the plane to Armenia and arrived very late in a foreign land. That night we prayed on the three stars, went to sleep, and hoped that with the morning light our wish would come true.
The next morning, our adoption lawyer said, “A little girl was born last night, do you want to meet her?”
Our daughter, Elle Lusine, was born.
We headed up the windy broken roads to the Nork Baby Home in Yerevan, the capital city, and when our eyes met, it felt like we knew her always. Then, we noticed something magical. The same pattern of the three stars up in the dark sky was dotted on her tiny pink back. Our prayers were answered. Her given name by the adoption agency was Lusine, which means “the light” in Armenian.
My hope is that through this tough time with international adoptions being halted that this will give families waiting for their baby a little bit of hope.
Keep believing my friends. Never give up.