Every November, we celebrate Adoption Awareness Month — a time to honor the brave stories of families who are built in all kinds of ways. It’s also a month to recognize the countless children still waiting for their forever homes.
This year, I want to share my story — the story of how I waited four long, faith-stretching, heart-breaking, beautiful years to bring my daughter, Penny, home from China. If you’re considering adoption, or walking through the long middle of it, I pray my story gives you hope and reminds you that every moment of waiting is sacred — even when it doesn’t feel that way.
The Nudge That Changed Everything
Adoption had been on my heart for years — one of those quiet, persistent ideas that never really goes away. But in the summer before my 40th birthday, something shifted. What had always been a “someday” dream suddenly became a right now conviction.
It happened almost overnight. Over one weekend, I went from pondering to pressing forward. The feeling was so strong, so unshakable, that I knew it was God.
My sister had once mentioned a Christian-based adoption agency in Birmingham, Alabama — one she had worked with in the past. Without overanalyzing (which is very unlike me), I went online, filled out the form, and hit “submit.” Just like that, I was officially in the process.
And let me be the first to say: I don’t recommend starting an adoption journey this way! I’m a self-proclaimed control freak who researches everything to death — yet this time, I didn’t even look up reviews or make a pro/con list. It was another one of those massive leaps of faith God keeps asking me to take.
And as always, He provided in ways I never could have orchestrated.
The Long, Twisting Process
If you’ve been through adoption, you know it’s not for the faint of heart. The process is long and full of paperwork — forms, fingerprints, medical appointments, background checks, training hours, home studies — the list never ends. It’s an exhausting mix of hurry up and wait.
But you keep pushing because you know what’s waiting at the end.
Eventually, all that paperwork becomes something called a dossier — a thick folder that holds your entire life story. Once it’s sent to China, you officially enter their system and can be matched with a child.
And so I waited.
They tell you the matching process can take months, maybe a year. But nothing quite prepares you for that in-between — when your heart already belongs to a child you haven’t even met.
The Call That Changed Everything
I’ll never forget the day I got “the call.”
That morning had started out normal — except that I was recovering from a root canal (because of course I was). When I got back to work, I noticed a missed call from my agency and an email marked “URGENT.”
When I opened the attachment, I saw her face for the first time.
A baby girl. My daughter.
I had prepared myself to be matched with an older child as it is rare to be matched with a baby so never in a million years did I expect a baby girl. My numb mouth couldn’t stop me from screaming, crying, and laughing all at once.
It was surreal — the moment I had prayed for, dreamed about, fought for. And just like that, everything shifted. I was no longer just “in process.” I was a mom.
Preparing to Travel
Once you’re matched, everything starts moving quickly — finalizing paperwork, planning travel, booking appointments. My agency told me I’d spend two weeks in China: one in the province where Penny lived, and one in Guangzhou for consulate processing.
I started nesting like any new mom would. Her room came together piece by piece — the crib, the soft blankets, the little dresses folded neatly into drawers. Every corner of my home became a reflection of hope.
Meanwhile news broke about a mysterious new virus spreading through China. At first, no one thought much of it. My agency reassured me: “Everything’s fine. You’ll still travel.”
But as the days passed, the updates became harder to ignore. Borders began to close. Trips were put on hold and eventually flights were cancelled. What was supposed to be a short delay turned into an indefinite pause.
And then just like that, everything stopped.
When the World Shut Down
When Covid hit the states in early 2020, it felt like the world shut down overnight. We were told it would be two weeks — then a month — then who knows.
I was angry. I was heartbroken. I had done everything right, followed every nudge God placed on my heart, and now my daughter was on the other side of the world with no way for me to reach her.
I asked questions I didn’t want to ask: Why would God lead me here only to let this happen? Why give me this promise if it wasn’t going to come true?
But I clung to faith anyway.
My agency held regular update calls at first, but as months turned into a year, the updates slowed. China wasn’t processing adoption paperwork, and I was left in limbo — waiting, hoping, praying.
Learning to Wait Well
Somewhere in the middle of that long, uncertain season, I realized this wasn’t just a delay — it was a test of faith.
There were nights when I sobbed on my bathroom floor, wondering if I’d ever hold her. There were days when I was tired of putting on a brave face. But every time I wanted to give up, God sent small reminders that He was still writing the story.
A friend texted me 1 Peter 5:7-10 — “Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.” I clung to that verse like oxygen.
I surrounded myself with prayer — my family, my church, my friends. Penny and I were constantly lifted up.
I started each morning in Scripture. I lived in the book of Job. Every time I felt like breaking, I whispered to myself: But God.
Over time, the anger softened. The tears became prayers. The waiting became worship.
But the ache never left.
I missed so many of her firsts — her first steps, her first words, her first birthday cakes that I sent from afar. Each picture I received showed a little girl growing up without me, and while I celebrated her milestones, it broke my heart that I wasn’t there.
Over time people eventually stopped asking about the adoption. Maybe they didn’t know what to say anymore. I understood, but it still stung.
Life kept moving for everyone else, while I stayed in this suspended place — between mother and not-yet.
A Change of Scenery, A Renewed Hope
After two years of waiting, I felt God nudging me again — this time, to move. I found myself feeling called to leave Waco and move back to the PNW, but this time to start over in Spokane.
It made no practical sense. It meant redoing paperwork, updating everything. But something in my spirit said go, and I trusted that God was still working behind the scenes.
Even in the hardest times, I saw what I like to call “winks from God” — little moments that reminded me He was near. A blooming peony on a hard day. Unexpected money from a friend. A divine connection to the orphanage director. Each one felt like a whisper: Don’t give up. I’m still here.
In my new home, Penny’s room was the first one I finished. The lost years showed up as her crib became a bed. The changing table turned into a dresser. Yet every detail was a declaration of hope — a physical reminder that one day, she would come home.
The Miracle I’d Been Waiting For
Joanna and Penny | January 2024
Then, one ordinary December morning in 2023, the phone rang.
It was my agency.
China had reopened travel for a small group of waiting families — and I was approved to travel.
After four years of waiting, I was finally going to meet my daughter.
There aren’t words to describe what it felt like. Relief. Gratitude. Awe. It was the culmination of years of tears, faith, and perseverance.
And on January 15th, 2024, a day 1,414 in the making, I finally held Penny in my arms. I knew every single moment of waiting had been worth it.
Promises Kept
When God fulfills a promise, it doesn’t mean the road suddenly becomes easy. Traveling to China came with its share of challenges — navigating culture, jet lag, paperwork, and emotional exhaustion. The transition home was hard too. There were sleepless nights, tears, moments of doubt.
But through it all, God was there.
In September 2024, China announced that they were closing their international adoption program—a heartbreaking decision that left hundreds of waiting families without answers. When I heard the news, I was overwhelmed with gratitude and disbelief, realizing just how miraculous God’s timing had truly been.
Reflections & encouragement
Here are some things I want anyone considering adoption (especially international) to know:
- You will wait. A lot. The waiting is part of the journey.
- Faith and flexibility are critical. I had to release control.
- Prepare your mind and your heart for the roller-coaster. Even as a believer I experienced fear, doubt, anger, confusion.
- Build a support circle—pray with them, cry with them, lean on them.
- Use Scripture. Verses like 1 Peter 5:7 (“Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”), Job’s endurance, Romans 8:28 (“All things together for good…”) held me steady.
- Don’t let the fear of the process stop you. The red tape, the waiting, the “what-ifs”—don’t let them deter you.
- Celebrate every moment of preparation. The nursery/room, the clothes, planning the trip—these are real signs of hope.
- Remember that adoption isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence, love, home.
Final thoughts
This November, during Adoption Awareness Month, as we shine light on the many kids waiting and the many families saying “yes”, I ask: if your heart is nudging you to adoption—don’t ignore it. Let the fear of the process be overshadowed by the promise of a forever family.
My four-year wait to bring home my daughter, Penny, has taught me that faith is not passive. It’s active waiting. It’s hoping when hope hides. It’s believing when believing seems hard. And it’s trusting that what God began, He will complete.
If you’re in the wait. If you’re in the paperwork. If you’re in the “hurry up and wait” zone—keep going. You may be writing a story you didn’t script. But God is writing it. And the best part? It ends with home.
And that child? She is worth it.
PIN THIS!
Read more of Joanna’s contributions to AllMomDoes here.
