Showing posts with label Adoption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adoption. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
His mother
The full moon stared at me through my bedroom window keeping me awake wondering if you were looking at it too. I wonder if you are cold tonight. I wonder if you are hungry. I wonder if you miss your baby sleeping upstairs. I wonder how the same moon can mean such different things to us. I wonder why your family couldn't love you, you seem loveable to me. I wonder a lot of things about you. I wish I could love you back to life the way I have your son. I wish I could have been there when for you more. I wish someone would have told you that you could be a wonderful mother. I wonder if your defeat is what kept you from getting the help you needed. I wonder if you know I do love you. I wonder if you know that when I look into your son's eyes I see you, or if you know that when he is difficult I try to handle him with the patience and love you'd want for him even if you couldn't do it yourself. I wish you did. I wish a lot of things.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Time is relative
I have been holding back in posting more about our gift baby. He needs lots of care and attention. Plus, I wanted to give myself and my family lots of time and space to make an authentic, spirit-led, decision about adoption, to stop knocking on the doors to Casey's heart, to step back, get out of the way, and give them room to open. You see, when you are thrown a curve ball it is easy to duck. When our expectations aren't met, when we think we are aligned with God's will and then we are surprised unexpectedly it is easy to say "no", this isn't how it was supposed to go. This isn't what God wants for me. This is when prayerful reflection is needed most.
We became foster-adoptive parents to adopt a girl between the ages of 10-14. We had a neat little plan to build our family without adding "parenting years" onto our marriage. Wow, typing that I realize how selfish that sounds. Trust me, we had great intentions. We also truly and honestly wanted an older child because they are so much less likely to be adopted. We wanted a girl because we don't have one. Casey wanted a daughter to walk down the aisle, and I wanted a daughter with whom I could journey motherhood. We wanted to be witness to the life of a daughter. We still hope for that. Our problem was in thinking that we had it all figured out.
Isn't that how it happens? Just when you think you have it all figured out, "the joke's on you". In late April 2013, when we said "yes" to fostering gift baby we thought he was passing through our lives. We all prepared not to take ownership of him. He wasn't ours. I have said "no" to plenty of foster placements for various reasons, but this time I just couldn't do it. I couldn't. I convinced myself, "I will love him well, and then he will move on." It happened slowly, the way dusk creeps in on children at play. There is a huge, yet subtle difference between loving and caring for a child, and loving and taking ownership of them as your own. It felt intrusive to take ownership of a child whose mother I hoped would heal for him. I wouldn't do that to either of them. I couldn't do that. But he pried my heart open and crawled inside. Over time I died to my plan, and accepted this as God's plan, at least for now. What a beautiful plan too! I get to love and be loved by a beautiful soul I wouldn't know had I said, "no" on the grounds that he was not a girl between the ages of 10-14.
As time wore on, both of our boys began to refer to him as their, "little brother". First, during introductions. Then, when they were playing with him. As the days slipped from one to another it was as if he had always been a part of our family, as if he were meant for us. His personality is a blend of the older two boys. He shares their love of music, their sense of humor, even some of their quirks from when they were babies! The similarities are uncanny. Eventually, holding him ceased to be a duty and became a privilege. He ceased to exist out side of myself, but became an extension of me. His coos would come to me like enchanted notes carried on a warm breeze from a distant violin. They began to make me revel with joy for his existence, and every morning and afternoon I waited with anticipation for him wake up.
Casey agreed to adopt him, in writing. He was still nervous about all those plans he hadn't yet let die. I wasn't. A new plan, more beautiful than any we could plan, had unfurled before me day by day. The time came to change gift baby's placement goal. Fostercare adoption isn't linear. It isn't easy. In one instant they are going to be yours forever, and the next the could be ripped from your arms. This caused us to deny the depth of our feelings for him, but it was something we naively thought we might avoid. When this possibility reared its ugly head at us things really changed. That's when we had to be really honest with ourselves. Until that point it had been easy for both of us to pretend that we could go back to "normal" if baby boy left us. Facing this reality caused us to realize that things were never going to be the same. The boys and I especially, would grieve a lost child if he were to go. The idea caused my heart to twist and palpitate in my chest.
We sat on seat edge for two weeks waiting to find out if he would be staying or going. During that time, I tried to distance my heart from his and couldn't. Instead he became even more a part of me. I was sleepless, praying in my bed, as shadows washed over me, for the strength to follow His plan. Questioning Him, "why would you do this to us? I don't understand why." Then the day came when I found out what was really happening (can't wait to tell you all some day). The social worker gave me a speech on timing, the time line, and the legalities currently being adhered too. As the social worker explained to me what was going on, and what her goals for him were I realized I could have slept well if I had a little more faith. Not because she was telling me what I had longed to hear, "he is absolutely yours." No. I realized, who am I to question "the Plan"? His timing is perfect, it isn't my timing. I don't get what I want when I want it. I get what I need when I need it. We needed to have that epiphany right now. We needed a reality check. We needed to come together. I needed to understand that I am not in control. That I need to let go and trust God to do his thing. That is HUGE for me! I grew from knowledge to understanding through experience. It is a dangerous thing indeed to mistake knowledge for understanding, and humbling to realize that is exactly what you have done.
We love him. He is ours (for sure right now, but I hope forever). We love him. I literally feel as if he has been birthed through me these last few weeks. Hearing his voice cause me to swell to bursting with joy. Witnessing him experience life makes me feel so lucky, so blessed. It is a privilege, I am proud of him, and proud to be thought of as his mother. I can't explain how this bond builds just yet. It as strong as my bond with the other boys. He will always be a part of us, and us a part of him. No matter what. I am thankful. I am so incredibly thankful. The last few months have humbled me beyond measure, and taught me that in my darkest moments I have the most to be thankful for. I have experienced that in darkness God truly is working the most in me and for me. I had knowledge of that truth before this, but I did not understand. I have experienced that God really is good all the time. I have experienced God. Again. This time more beautifully and fully than I could imagine. I am but a speck, and yet he carefully tends my every need. He often does this in spite of my moaning and lack of gratitude.
It has also taught me that I need to listen more carefully to that still small voice inside of me when it shares the good as well as the bad. How many times do we look in on possibilities, as if we are standing in the doorway to a room filled with joyful strangers, horrified to step in, but desperately longing to? That little voice that says, "you can do this. This would be good for you." often gets ignored while we listen to all the reasons we can't or shouldn't. How long have we spend languishing in doorways? Don't listen to that negative voice (unless you are planning to take a barrel of Niagara Falls, then listen to it) telling you why you can't. Take the step, and trust in God's timing.
We became foster-adoptive parents to adopt a girl between the ages of 10-14. We had a neat little plan to build our family without adding "parenting years" onto our marriage. Wow, typing that I realize how selfish that sounds. Trust me, we had great intentions. We also truly and honestly wanted an older child because they are so much less likely to be adopted. We wanted a girl because we don't have one. Casey wanted a daughter to walk down the aisle, and I wanted a daughter with whom I could journey motherhood. We wanted to be witness to the life of a daughter. We still hope for that. Our problem was in thinking that we had it all figured out.
Isn't that how it happens? Just when you think you have it all figured out, "the joke's on you". In late April 2013, when we said "yes" to fostering gift baby we thought he was passing through our lives. We all prepared not to take ownership of him. He wasn't ours. I have said "no" to plenty of foster placements for various reasons, but this time I just couldn't do it. I couldn't. I convinced myself, "I will love him well, and then he will move on." It happened slowly, the way dusk creeps in on children at play. There is a huge, yet subtle difference between loving and caring for a child, and loving and taking ownership of them as your own. It felt intrusive to take ownership of a child whose mother I hoped would heal for him. I wouldn't do that to either of them. I couldn't do that. But he pried my heart open and crawled inside. Over time I died to my plan, and accepted this as God's plan, at least for now. What a beautiful plan too! I get to love and be loved by a beautiful soul I wouldn't know had I said, "no" on the grounds that he was not a girl between the ages of 10-14.
As time wore on, both of our boys began to refer to him as their, "little brother". First, during introductions. Then, when they were playing with him. As the days slipped from one to another it was as if he had always been a part of our family, as if he were meant for us. His personality is a blend of the older two boys. He shares their love of music, their sense of humor, even some of their quirks from when they were babies! The similarities are uncanny. Eventually, holding him ceased to be a duty and became a privilege. He ceased to exist out side of myself, but became an extension of me. His coos would come to me like enchanted notes carried on a warm breeze from a distant violin. They began to make me revel with joy for his existence, and every morning and afternoon I waited with anticipation for him wake up.
Casey agreed to adopt him, in writing. He was still nervous about all those plans he hadn't yet let die. I wasn't. A new plan, more beautiful than any we could plan, had unfurled before me day by day. The time came to change gift baby's placement goal. Fostercare adoption isn't linear. It isn't easy. In one instant they are going to be yours forever, and the next the could be ripped from your arms. This caused us to deny the depth of our feelings for him, but it was something we naively thought we might avoid. When this possibility reared its ugly head at us things really changed. That's when we had to be really honest with ourselves. Until that point it had been easy for both of us to pretend that we could go back to "normal" if baby boy left us. Facing this reality caused us to realize that things were never going to be the same. The boys and I especially, would grieve a lost child if he were to go. The idea caused my heart to twist and palpitate in my chest.
We sat on seat edge for two weeks waiting to find out if he would be staying or going. During that time, I tried to distance my heart from his and couldn't. Instead he became even more a part of me. I was sleepless, praying in my bed, as shadows washed over me, for the strength to follow His plan. Questioning Him, "why would you do this to us? I don't understand why." Then the day came when I found out what was really happening (can't wait to tell you all some day). The social worker gave me a speech on timing, the time line, and the legalities currently being adhered too. As the social worker explained to me what was going on, and what her goals for him were I realized I could have slept well if I had a little more faith. Not because she was telling me what I had longed to hear, "he is absolutely yours." No. I realized, who am I to question "the Plan"? His timing is perfect, it isn't my timing. I don't get what I want when I want it. I get what I need when I need it. We needed to have that epiphany right now. We needed a reality check. We needed to come together. I needed to understand that I am not in control. That I need to let go and trust God to do his thing. That is HUGE for me! I grew from knowledge to understanding through experience. It is a dangerous thing indeed to mistake knowledge for understanding, and humbling to realize that is exactly what you have done.
We love him. He is ours (for sure right now, but I hope forever). We love him. I literally feel as if he has been birthed through me these last few weeks. Hearing his voice cause me to swell to bursting with joy. Witnessing him experience life makes me feel so lucky, so blessed. It is a privilege, I am proud of him, and proud to be thought of as his mother. I can't explain how this bond builds just yet. It as strong as my bond with the other boys. He will always be a part of us, and us a part of him. No matter what. I am thankful. I am so incredibly thankful. The last few months have humbled me beyond measure, and taught me that in my darkest moments I have the most to be thankful for. I have experienced that in darkness God truly is working the most in me and for me. I had knowledge of that truth before this, but I did not understand. I have experienced that God really is good all the time. I have experienced God. Again. This time more beautifully and fully than I could imagine. I am but a speck, and yet he carefully tends my every need. He often does this in spite of my moaning and lack of gratitude.
It has also taught me that I need to listen more carefully to that still small voice inside of me when it shares the good as well as the bad. How many times do we look in on possibilities, as if we are standing in the doorway to a room filled with joyful strangers, horrified to step in, but desperately longing to? That little voice that says, "you can do this. This would be good for you." often gets ignored while we listen to all the reasons we can't or shouldn't. How long have we spend languishing in doorways? Don't listen to that negative voice (unless you are planning to take a barrel of Niagara Falls, then listen to it) telling you why you can't. Take the step, and trust in God's timing.
Monday, August 22, 2011
journeying
Comfort kills. I heard that in some advertising campaign a while ago. I don't mean it literally, because I actually like being comfortable. I mean it in an broad figurative sense. Getting complacent with your life and yourself kills the potential human you could be. Casey and I, a long time ago, dreamed of adopting a "little" girl. I say "little" because we never really imagined ourselves adopting a baby. We knew we didn't want to dip below the age of 5. There are so many kids ready to be adopted right here in the US foster care system. They all have a back story, and NONE of them are responsible for how they ended up there. This morning we head to our social-workers office to discuss our potential matches.
I could go into a preachy, don't blame the children for the crime of the parents speech here, but instead I want to share the personal side of this decision. After all, it's the personal side that is interesting, no one cares what socio-political view point sparked the initial motivation. This process is beautiful and terrifying all at once. Since starting I have seen my family members in ways I never could have if we'd remained complacent, and my love for them has grown profoundly deep.
I have not met many men that would agree to bring a 10-14 year old girl into their family. Most men steer clear of girls that age, and rightfully so, they can be terrifying little balls of raging hormones. My man? He said let's go to the classes. I think he may have had a Daddy Warbucks fantasy at first, he does LOVE to be the hero. I was sure to burst his bubble at every opportunity. I have been working with At-Risk youth most of my adult life, and I knew he needed to go into this with eyes wide open.
As we went through classes I watched his perceptions of foster-care adoption change. His altruistic rosey picture became more real. He came to realize that even though our future daughter WANTS a family, she won't (most likely) want a "replacement" family. She will have memories, yes even fond ones, of her own biological family and we must respect those. He came to own the role of Father for a girl means something that is much different than it is for our boys. I think he relishes that fact.
Our approval was official last Saturday. While I jumped up and down and sang in celebration with our sons I failed to notice my understated spouse slip away. A few minutes later, when I realized he was gone, I went to look for him. I found him upstairs pouring over the adoption listings for girls in our age bracket. He didn't even notice me enter the room. His dark brows were pinched in concentration. This was his celebration. The rest of the weekend he perused listings, tried to find more information via Google, and narrowed the listing down to three different girls, two of whom were sisters (we want them both).
As I watched his intensity I realized that I whatever I thought the measure of his heart was, and I thought it was huge, I was wrong. It's bigger than I had fathomed. Its funny that we forget our spouses are people, individuals. After, gosh, 12 years of marriage, I had begun to see him as an extension of me. In this moment I came to appreciate him the way I had 12 years ago, only this time with clarity. He is beautiful. Can I say that about a man? A stinky, deep sea diver man? It is true.
He was viewing these three girls as though they were daughters already, I could see it in his intensity. He'd been this way before, with our sons. Whenever the boys need something, be it a toy repaired or medical attention, his entire posture changes. He comes nearly robotic, his brows pinch together and his eyes become fixed. There is no talking to him then, he is mission focused. To see him this direct this energy at POTENTIAL offspring humbled me, and filled me near to bursting.
The adoption has allowed me to see my spouse as a human being! A human being with a mansion of a heart, and an bottomless well of a soul. My wonderment of his beauty has been not re-born, but re-constructed. Because of this journey, and his refusal to be complacent I have seen more of who he is than ever before. I feel incredibly fortunate. His babies (11 and 8 now) are little reflections of the quality of his life. I'll save that entry for later.
I could go into a preachy, don't blame the children for the crime of the parents speech here, but instead I want to share the personal side of this decision. After all, it's the personal side that is interesting, no one cares what socio-political view point sparked the initial motivation. This process is beautiful and terrifying all at once. Since starting I have seen my family members in ways I never could have if we'd remained complacent, and my love for them has grown profoundly deep.
I have not met many men that would agree to bring a 10-14 year old girl into their family. Most men steer clear of girls that age, and rightfully so, they can be terrifying little balls of raging hormones. My man? He said let's go to the classes. I think he may have had a Daddy Warbucks fantasy at first, he does LOVE to be the hero. I was sure to burst his bubble at every opportunity. I have been working with At-Risk youth most of my adult life, and I knew he needed to go into this with eyes wide open.
As we went through classes I watched his perceptions of foster-care adoption change. His altruistic rosey picture became more real. He came to realize that even though our future daughter WANTS a family, she won't (most likely) want a "replacement" family. She will have memories, yes even fond ones, of her own biological family and we must respect those. He came to own the role of Father for a girl means something that is much different than it is for our boys. I think he relishes that fact.
Our approval was official last Saturday. While I jumped up and down and sang in celebration with our sons I failed to notice my understated spouse slip away. A few minutes later, when I realized he was gone, I went to look for him. I found him upstairs pouring over the adoption listings for girls in our age bracket. He didn't even notice me enter the room. His dark brows were pinched in concentration. This was his celebration. The rest of the weekend he perused listings, tried to find more information via Google, and narrowed the listing down to three different girls, two of whom were sisters (we want them both).
As I watched his intensity I realized that I whatever I thought the measure of his heart was, and I thought it was huge, I was wrong. It's bigger than I had fathomed. Its funny that we forget our spouses are people, individuals. After, gosh, 12 years of marriage, I had begun to see him as an extension of me. In this moment I came to appreciate him the way I had 12 years ago, only this time with clarity. He is beautiful. Can I say that about a man? A stinky, deep sea diver man? It is true.
He was viewing these three girls as though they were daughters already, I could see it in his intensity. He'd been this way before, with our sons. Whenever the boys need something, be it a toy repaired or medical attention, his entire posture changes. He comes nearly robotic, his brows pinch together and his eyes become fixed. There is no talking to him then, he is mission focused. To see him this direct this energy at POTENTIAL offspring humbled me, and filled me near to bursting.
The adoption has allowed me to see my spouse as a human being! A human being with a mansion of a heart, and an bottomless well of a soul. My wonderment of his beauty has been not re-born, but re-constructed. Because of this journey, and his refusal to be complacent I have seen more of who he is than ever before. I feel incredibly fortunate. His babies (11 and 8 now) are little reflections of the quality of his life. I'll save that entry for later.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Letter to my Nephew's "mother"
First, thank you for giving him life, for chosing to let him grow inside of you. However, that in itself, does not make you his mother. Now, everyday, chose again to let him live. Find in yourself the mother's love you've yet to know. The love to put your child's needs ahead of your own desires.
He was ripped from you because you made him an addict before he took his first breath, nursed back to a soulful life by others, and now, now that he can feed, and dress, and wipe himself you want him back? He hasn't even slept at your house, not once, and you want to put him to bed? He barely knows the sound of your voice, because you haven't called, and now you want the privilage of soothing and scolding him?
You gave him life (thank you dearly), but you are not his mother. His mother got up every four hours for years to deliver medicine needed to heal the damage, you caused, to his lungs. His mother worked tirelessly with Occupational Therapists so that he would develop normally, inspite of what your drugs did to him. She loved him even though he, like all children, was a vacuum sucking in her energy, time, love, and giving nothing back. She loved him even though he wasn't hers. Now he is smart, now he can breathe, now he has the opportunity to be ANYTHING. If you want to be his mother leave him where he is. To take him back would be to suffocate him, to place him in a box, to hand him a warrant for his arrest. He's old enough now to know it. If you take him back you will prove that you were never really his mother. Just a woman that gave him a life you planned to use to your own benefit, exactly as your mother did to you. She wronged you.
You ARE beautiful, you ARE intelligent. She condemned you to be just another mom on wellfare, and your daughters will be the same. Your son has the chance to BE something. If you want to be his mother get out of his way, and work to overcome the injustice your mother did to you so that your daughters have a chance to live. You are your daughers only chance. Your son, he has had a village around him his entire life.
From this mother to you, leave him where he has the best chance at the best life and he will love you for it. Take him back, whatever your reason, and when he is grown he will know what you stole from him, and he will hate you for it. His life isn't a social security number, a paycheck, it doesn't belong to you. Just as my children's lives do not belong to me. Some day they will be men (if I succeed), other wives husbands. We are guardians of their futures, and nothing more. Some of us have the luxury to be best suited to be both guardian and teacher. Some of us are best suited as guardian to let some one else be the teacher. That has nothing to do with money, or class, or education. That has to do with LOVE. A mother knows which one she is, and puts her love of her child, her duty as the guardian of his future, ahead of her desire to be his teacher. What exactly do think he'll learn from you, what makes you best suited to teach him to be someone elses husband? The only men, only husbands you've ever encountered were actors on sitcoms. Your daughter's do not know their fathers. You do not know their fathers. Your son's father has been there with him his entire life. Tell me how you'd be better at teaching him to be a man/husband?
He was ripped from you because you made him an addict before he took his first breath, nursed back to a soulful life by others, and now, now that he can feed, and dress, and wipe himself you want him back? He hasn't even slept at your house, not once, and you want to put him to bed? He barely knows the sound of your voice, because you haven't called, and now you want the privilage of soothing and scolding him?
You gave him life (thank you dearly), but you are not his mother. His mother got up every four hours for years to deliver medicine needed to heal the damage, you caused, to his lungs. His mother worked tirelessly with Occupational Therapists so that he would develop normally, inspite of what your drugs did to him. She loved him even though he, like all children, was a vacuum sucking in her energy, time, love, and giving nothing back. She loved him even though he wasn't hers. Now he is smart, now he can breathe, now he has the opportunity to be ANYTHING. If you want to be his mother leave him where he is. To take him back would be to suffocate him, to place him in a box, to hand him a warrant for his arrest. He's old enough now to know it. If you take him back you will prove that you were never really his mother. Just a woman that gave him a life you planned to use to your own benefit, exactly as your mother did to you. She wronged you.
You ARE beautiful, you ARE intelligent. She condemned you to be just another mom on wellfare, and your daughters will be the same. Your son has the chance to BE something. If you want to be his mother get out of his way, and work to overcome the injustice your mother did to you so that your daughters have a chance to live. You are your daughers only chance. Your son, he has had a village around him his entire life.
From this mother to you, leave him where he has the best chance at the best life and he will love you for it. Take him back, whatever your reason, and when he is grown he will know what you stole from him, and he will hate you for it. His life isn't a social security number, a paycheck, it doesn't belong to you. Just as my children's lives do not belong to me. Some day they will be men (if I succeed), other wives husbands. We are guardians of their futures, and nothing more. Some of us have the luxury to be best suited to be both guardian and teacher. Some of us are best suited as guardian to let some one else be the teacher. That has nothing to do with money, or class, or education. That has to do with LOVE. A mother knows which one she is, and puts her love of her child, her duty as the guardian of his future, ahead of her desire to be his teacher. What exactly do think he'll learn from you, what makes you best suited to teach him to be someone elses husband? The only men, only husbands you've ever encountered were actors on sitcoms. Your daughter's do not know their fathers. You do not know their fathers. Your son's father has been there with him his entire life. Tell me how you'd be better at teaching him to be a man/husband?
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