Last month was
National Adoption Month. I have been read countless articles and post on
adoption. Some really resonate with me, grab the moments where I have had some
of the very same feelings but wondered if it was appropriate to mention them.
Others I think to my self, “did you think a little bit before you wrote”.
I find myself
lately, under some sort of attack if you would call it that. I have been
finding that comments about adoption are coming at me like wildfire as we have
been out in public and also in private.
After being home 8
months, and trying to process through the adoption as honestly as possible. Not
just for myself, but also my girl, I have seen and experienced first hand that
there are most certainly two sides to adoption. Not talking, parents and child,
but beauty and ashes.
Adoption is
beautiful. It is often compared as concrete example of our adoption with Jesus.
It is taking a child out of a situation and in most cases, putting them in a
situation that is far better. Just as
Jesus hung on the cross for us, to redeem us. In our case, it made us a family.
It is taking a little heart, from a situation that is not ideal, and hopefully
bringing them into a situation that is better. This is what is most portrayed in our
churches. What is not, Is the reason why God needed to adopt us in the first
place. The sin, that brought the need for Jesus. God did not originally create
this earth to be fallen. He did not design for families to be broken. Family
units get broken through adoption. No matter the reason, somewhere in the line,
the family unit gets broken. It is heart breaking to think that parents given a
child may not be able to take care of that child. Or a family unit is regulated
on how many kids God decides to give it.
Adoption made Hosanna
a daughter, cousin, granddaughter, great granddaughter, great niece, niece. She
also brought some of the same people, some of these titles they did not have
before.
She is learning and growing leaps and bounds.
She continues to amaze us in ways that we could have never imagined and we
marvel at just how much joy she brings into our lives.
Watching her try
to figure things out, explore, live without fear of much is fascinating.
For the most part,
you all get to hear the lovely side to this thing called adoption. You see the
fun pictures that we post, and hear the crazy stories of all the firsts that we
are experiencing. And yet, there is a side that burns and brings the ash. Or as
some would call the UGLY.
The ashy side of
adoption is not talked about very much. Or, at least in my experience, when
thoughts are expressed, I get a very quick “welcome to parenthood”, or “Oh,
that is normal”. Without even so much as a thought to what might actually be
going on behind our four walls. So much so, I have begun to really scale back
on who I speak with. What I have come to
realize, is that unless you have actually experienced this yourself, and
furthermore, this is your first baby (no bio babies before) those come across
as very dismissive. People think we have it easy, we sleep through the night,
more nights than not. Our girl can feed herself, we are attempting to potty
train (Which means no more diapers), she had graduated to a toddler bed, she is
becoming more self sufficient as I write.
I even hesitate to
write, mainly because I have felt under such attack lately from the world
around us. And with each comment that is given, a little notch gets carved in
my belt of patience. My reaction however, is one that I have to be very very
careful of. In some cases, I am screaming inside, in others I really want to
slap someone upside the head. But there is a 3 year old watching me, and how I
react to her adoption will shape and mold just how she reacts as she gets
older.
But indeed it gets
very UGLY.
The ugly comes in
from the world:
“Is that really
your kid”
“How much did you
buy her for”
“You must be rich”
“Why would you not
get one from your own country”
“Thank God you got
her from over there. They grow them smarter than other places”
“Why would you bring
a kid home with a disability”
“What is wrong
with you that you cannot have your own kid”
“You are so lucky
you missed infanthood”
“What you did is a
great thing”
“You really need
to experience infanthood”
And then the UGLY
that appears at home:
·
The crying
in the middle of the night for her mama, but not the mama that is holding her.
The other mama that she knows of, and has known for the first 28 months of her
life.
·
Praying
that maybe this would be the day she would want to rock with you in the rocking
chair. Or possibly this would be the day that the “it is ok to snuggle” light
goes on in her head
·
Having
her reject, turn her nose up or whatever you want to call it, if you do not
provide the reassurance of return, comeback or however it is worded.
·
Working
through the rejection, abandonment, fear of being left over and over again with
each new experience until trust can be built in one subject matter only to move
on to the next and start all over.
·
Sitting
across the dinner table, knowing that for the first 28 months of her life the
coping mechanisms that she created to survive, are being picked apart one by
one as we walk through life, hoping to create new, healthy ones. Her life is
continually being turned upside down.
·
Watching
as the love factor is turned up at dinnertime. Mainly out of a fear that she
will not be fed. Or out of fear of not being feed, she is under foot to the
point of exhaustion.
·
Listening
and watching her struggle to sleep at night from being restless. Not knowing
where the restlessness is coming from, and also knowing she cannot communicate
it. But she screams out, intensely.
·
Constantly
having to justify our boundaries/actions for our child.
·
Sitting
across at the dinner table on occasion wondering why I was chosen to raise
someone else’s child. Why I will never have the label of first born in my
house.
·
Anticipating
the questions that we have in the future and the wisdom to explain our girl her
story. As we tell her what we know and watching her cope with what we do not.
·
Don’t get me
wrong, I love my girl. I would not change this for the world, in fact the
potential of adopting again is becoming more of a thought in my mind. I am ever
so thankful each and everyday, I was chosen to be her mama. But I am all to
aware that this is an incredibly long road. Her adoption will be a subject
matter we will address over and over. Not just because we are a transracial
family but because we will take with our daughter about her story.
Please I beg you,
the next time you are with a family that adopted, please watch your tongue,
while you may not think that your words are harmful, and sometimes are just
flippant, remember they could be in an ashes moment. And those are rather
intense.
Jennifer
Someone got to play in her first leaf pile ever!!!