Little Girl Lost

I've spent months staring into the eyes of children on the Northwest Adoption Exchange's website. Kids come, kids go...most kids seem to stay. It's because most of the kids on NWAE site are "problem" children - developmental delays, birth defects, behavioral issues.

It's a fairly straightforward ritual with me. I click onto one of the links in my favorites, and go through the states in the NWAE alphabetically. Alaska has the fewest kids available - most of them are Native American. Idaho usually has a pretty full caseload - Katrina and I had toyed with the idea of adopting a much older kid like Amber, but decided that 16 would be just a bit too much for us. We had thought she was in the process of being placed - I see she's still on the site. I then hit the weirdness that is the Oregon page, which opens up with a page filled with amateurish-looking bold and ALL CAPS text everywhere, informing you of the typically obtuse way Oregon has of dealing with just about anything. I finally wend my way over the the Washington page, to see what kids are listed there.

As I said before, there are a number of kids who no longer appear on the rosters - meaning they've been placed with families. Two examples are the two sets of girls we sent in inquiries on - Emily, Chloe and Lilyan and Angelina, Leticia and Talia. Oddly, the web pages still exist, just the referring links on the main pages are down.

However, there are some kids who have been there as long as I've been looking at the NWAE pages, which is much, much over a year.

There's smiling Heather, who's been at the top of the page for as long as I can remember. Sweet Daniel with his Forrest Gumplike wave. Mischeivous Joey with a look that makes you both wonder where your car keys are and yet not care at the same time.

Then there's Denise.

Denise breaks my heart because her photo has been updated, as many of the kids' photos are, when they get older, or when they get a new haircut, or when their foster parents send them in.

Denise used to stare out from the web page with a big, cheesy grin across her face - mugging for the camera, hopeful that her family is out there somewhere, seeing her.

Her photo now tells a different story.

Denise, if her photo is any indication, has given up. The look on her face is one of unmitigated anger - anger at the system, anger at the people who caused her to be in the situation she's in, anger at her foster parents, anger at the world.

She's a lost kid, and in the sad, sick way of this sort of thing, she's likely to stay lost.

She's not smilingly hopeful like Heather.

She's not cautiously friendly like Daniel.

She's not full of the spark of life like Joey.


She's simply done.

Over.

Through with it.


Believing no one would want to adopt her.

Believing her face will grace this web page until she turns 18, and is turned out of the foster care system to make it on her own, somehow.


This is the child who breaks my heart.

If you are praying for my family, pray for Denise's, too.



No child should ever have to wear that look on her face.