Our daughter is one of 300 trapped in a Chinese orphanage

Today, there are 300 children in Chinese orphanages who aren’t supposed to be there, and our daughter is one of them.  

My husband, JD, and I always knew we wanted to adopt. In 2019, we were finally matched with a sweet, bright little girl from China. For one unforgettable week, we were able to host her in our home. Our whole family could feel her joy as we played, sang, went to the park, watched movies and ate Chick-fil-A — her absolute favorite. We poured every ounce of love we could into that sweet girl.  

When her visit came to an end, we walked out of the building with tears in our eyes, hearing her broken cries of “Ma! Da!” between sobs. It was heartbreaking, but we held on to hope, knowing we would soon travel to bring her home.  

We were days away from receiving our Letter of Acceptance, the final document we needed, when COVID-19 halted China’s international adoption program. At the time, we were told the pause was temporary. So, we waited through the pandemic. We prayed. We clung to every update, every photo. But now, even those have stopped.  

Then, last year, China abruptly closed its adoption program altogether, thrusting our family into deeper confusion and grief.  

While we understand that future adoptions are closed, there’s been no clear communication about whether families like ours will be allowed to complete the adoptions already in progress.  

This child was 7 years old when we held her in our arms. She’s now 11. She’s spending the prime years of her childhood in an orphanage, without the love, stability and opportunities she deserves.  

The limbo she’s in isn’t just difficult, it’s cruel.  

We can’t help but wonder what she must think. Does she believe we abandoned her? Does she know we’re still fighting to bring her back? Does the little girl we held in our arms think we changed our minds?   

Unfortunately, she’s not alone. Hundreds of children are stuck in the same heartbreaking limbo. These are not hypothetical cases. These are real boys and girls with names, birthdays and bedrooms waiting for them.  

It’s common knowledge that completing an adoption can take time, but this situation is different. This isn’t just a delay or an inconvenience; it’s a bureaucratic and moral failure to act in the best interest of children and to honor the commitments made to them. 

The solution is painfully simple. This could be resolved with a single diplomatic conversation. We’re not calling for pressure, but for partnership. While international relations are certainly complex, a cooperative approach is possible. We believe in diplomacy that honors national sovereignty and keeps promises to children who were already chosen, already loved and already promised a home. 

For our part, we’ve done everything we can. Through Lifeline Children’s Services, we’ve written letters, signed petitions and worked with government officials to bring attention to this issue. Alongside other families, we continue to fight — not just for our daughter, but for every child in the same situation. We’ve asked for help. We’ve pleaded for action. But still, no resolution. And our daughter remains on the other side of the ocean, growing older without us. 

This crisis, while quiet, is urgent. 

Children are growing up in institutions, families are left incomplete, and the answers are not out of reach. We just need someone in a position of authority to care enough to ask the right questions and to reopen a conversation. 

But we can’t do this alone. 

These children need advocates. They need voices. They need people willing to share their stories to help finally bring them home before more time slips away.