Oh August.

Last fall we started planning our summer furlough. We would go in August, immediately after camp. We would spend the next five weeks soaking up the California sun (while enjoying the California air conditioning). We would swim in Grandma and Grandpa Ducky’s swimming and go boating on the lake with Grammie and Pops. We would have BBQs and picnics and sleepovers with aunties and uncles and cousins.

Then came Valentine’s day. Would we come to California and adopt Noelan? We knew if we went in February that we wouldn’t go in August. But can you really compare the two – – summer vacation or a child?

And so we went. “I can’t attach to him. I don’t love him. Will you attach to him? Will you be his mom and dad?” The mama in me, the daddy in Christian – – we had to respond. And I attached, we attached. We were asked to and so we did. Every ounce of me became Noelan’s mama and every ounce of him became my son. We know the difference between fostering and adopting. We were asked to adopt Noelan, not foster him. And because of that, we became a family and completely attached to him.


Which is why I feel like a piece of my heart is missing.

Which is why two and a half months after loosing Noelan, I am still rocking my almost eight year old when she goes into an infantile grief. And it is why I still wake up in the middle of the night, panicked because I hear Noelan crying for me. And it is why Christian and I sit and stare at each other and have no words sometimes. And it is why my five year old tantrums and throws and hits until she finally voices “I want my brother back.”

Oh grief. Oh August.

The Lord brought me a new, unexpected friendship this summer. And she has already been an ear and a shoulder for me. She sent me this article and as Christian and I read it, we suddenly felt so much more “normal” during this process. I would encourage you to read it and remember it if the Lord brings someone into your life going through adoption loss. Just reading it has ministered to me, because it has reassured me that we are not alone in this process.


Marie Klein Burtt

About Marie Klein Burtt