Krista Preston

The government of China wanted my baby dead. Was it because she was second born or because she was a girl? Because a political directive in China allows only one child per family, she could have been aborted or received a saline injection into her skull after birth to end life just seconds after she took her first breath. If the saline didn’t work, she might be left for dead in a hole beneath the ground, or left in the dark with hopes she would be found in time. In time for what? To be thrust into an under-equipped, understaffed, unsanitary orphanage in hopes of finding a family before getting too sick or too old to be wanted? That was the fate of the infant who would soon become a part of my life.

That God chose us as part of one of his miracles still astonishes me. He led us 12,000 miles from home and gave us the most precious gift, a child. He guided us from the beginning through an article about a woman who adopted a baby girl from China, an article that filled our hearts with longing. Together, my husband and I prayed for help and guidance.

We hit many bumps in the road along the way, but that just made us pray harder and exercise our faith more. I called adoption agencies, but they told me we couldn’t adopt in China because age restrictions required both parents to be at least 35. A misdialed call led me to an agency that connected us with a Chinese man in Illinois who was helping couples adopt Chinese babies. His mission began when he visited an orphanage to adopt a child and saw over 200 infants in one unheated room. He said he knew then that God’s wish for him was to help these children.

When we met the four other couples going with us to China to adopt a child, we were virtual strangers. Ten days later we were a close-knit family. We saw each other through emotional highs and tear-wrenching lows. Watching someone you have come to know and respect being handed their child for the first time is beautiful.

Then it was our turn…they stepped out of the elevator, and I saw her. She was beautiful. All I could do was stare through my tears. I was afraid to blink or take a breath in case the moment was only a dream. Someone called out her name, Huang Gang, and then it became reality. My daughter was nine-and-a-half months old and being placed in my arms for the first time. Could she feel my heart pounding and my pulse racing? Could she tell that she would never be cold and hungry again? Did she know that her tears would be kissed away and all her fears calmed? Did she know how much she was loved?

When we got home, people told me how fortunate our daughter, Miya Catherine, was to be in the United States and in our family. That sunk in the first time we took Miya to church. It was communion Sunday, and we took her up to the front with us. As we stood there, holding our baby, it occurred to us that she probably would never have learned about Jesus in China. Knowing that this little soul would be saved makes us want to go back, adopt another baby, and bring another soul to Jesus.

God has enriched our lives in ways I only dreamed possible. Not only did he allow us to adopt, but five-and-a-half months later blessed us with the birth of a girl. Only a year before, we were two people talking about kids. Today we have a refrigerator filled with bottles, a living room heaped with toys, and hearts filled with love. Is there no end to his love and blessings? Fortunately for us all, there isn’t.