navigating the fragile road of adoption

The conversation started innocently enough.  Ellie and I, in my bathroom, talking about how she wanted me to style her hair.  She had ideas, I had ideas, and her hair had ideas.  Somewhere, in the mix of talking hair, we were also talking about life.  At one point, during the conversation, she asked me how I knew something- I replied, 'because I'm your mom and mom's know these types of things.'

Without a hint of rebellion or punishment in her voice and without malice or manipulation, she replied back, 'technically your not my mom.'  The moment was heavy with honesty.  It was heavy with vulnerability, heavy with the weight of her truth.  Her heart gauging whether I could shoulder the truth.  She's so smart and incredibly insightful- has always been wise beyond her years- she would know.  I wouldn't be able to fool her.

'No Elle, I'm not your biological mom.  God chose for you to grow in your birth mom Heather's tummy and then He chose for dad and I to raise you.  Technically I'm not your birth mom but your in my heart every bit as much as if you would have grown in my tummy.  It's just the way God made it, from the very first moment I read the paperwork about you and Heather, before you were born, I knew you belonged in our family.  But I also understand that you think about your biological family...' and we went on to talk about them and how important they are to her.

I haven't done motherhood perfectly.  I've failed and succeed over the last 23 years, but I've learned a few things.  I learned a few things in the 11 years I prayed for a child to become our third.  I learned in the final months, before we were placed with Ellie and Heather, how selfish my heart and motives were when it came to how I wanted our adoption to look.  I also remember where I was (Kipu Kai in March of 2011) when I finally held up my hands and surrendered whether we would adopt or not to God- leaving it in His hands and being at peace whether He placed a child with us or not.  I also knew that if He did chose to bless us with a child, it would be in His timing and His way, always.....and never mine.  A month after this surrender, we were matched with our birth mom, Heather.  Ellie was born on June 18, 2011.

So here we are, almost nine adoption years later.  It's been a journey filled with so many joyous moments and some amazing memories.  It's also been a journey of incredible grief.  I've sobbed and Ellie's sobbed.  We've hashed out some hard truth's together with the knowledge that the best and worst is yet to come.  During the journey this far, I've learned a few things- some taught to me by Ellie and some I've learned as I've begged God for the wisdom to navigate the complicated and fragile road of adoption.

• It's not a competition.  You don't have to build yourself up or downplay your child's biological parent(s) or family.  Be content and secure with what and where God has called you in your child's life. Chose to be realistic but kind and gracious when you talk about your child's biological family.  It's where they have come from genetically, it's where their heart at times longs to still be.  They are curious, rightfully so, and looking for reassurance that the family they are not with have value.  At some level, they will want to equate the worth we place on their biological family with the worth they have.

• It's OK to be second place in your child's mind.  As an adoptive parent, we've gone some miles with our child- we've stepped up- we've walked in the trenches pouring out love and support.....this does not mean we are entitled to first place in their minds.  Sometimes, they need to imagine that their biological parents are the heroes in the story.....they are still learning that it's OK to love both sets of parents equally- a tough and heartbreaking learning lesson for them- that one set of parents stepped down so another set could rise up.

• Take the steps and get the tools to shoulder their grief without making your child feel guilty.  Ellie needed to tell me that I am not her biological mom.  She needed a safe place to share her truth. If I would have responded with hurt and anger, she would have retreated and felt the need to comfort me (instead of me comforting her).  Retreated feelings make any child feel even more isolated, more alone, and places a heavy load that was meant to be shared (with parents) squarely on their shoulders.  Anger and unhealthy coping mechanisms can subsequently follow....

• There will be grief- with adoption, there is loss and gain without the two ever being separated- sometimes it's easy to want to separate the two for our sake or/and for our adopted child's sake. This only makes the grief deeper and more confusing for all involved. It's OK to acknowledge and talk about the loss but make sure to equally acknowledge the gain.  Adoption will always be bittersweet.

To every parent reading this who has an adopted child...God has called you to an incredible job.  If it's a hard season, take heart- it's not the end of the story.

To every birth parent reading this who has placed a child...you made a selfless decision that was the right one.  On the days you are beating yourself up over your decision, take heart- you chose what was best and it is your love that shines through most.

To every child who grew up with or is being raised in a forever home that is not biologically yours and are struggling with grief and anger...you are a treasure and a gift- God's got an incredible plan for your life and you are so very loved.  Don't give up hope because it's not the end of your story either.

Heather, Ellie, and I a couple of hours before Ellie was born.  It is the only picture to date I have of the three of us.