Rose-Colored Glasses, Where Did I Lose Thee?

When we sought to adopt the first time, it was simply for two reasons. First, we felt God had blessed us with abundant love, home and opportunities and we wanted to share that with another child. I never really foresaw having four children, but we wholeheartedly felt God was calling us to that blessing. Second, God’s word clearly calls believers to take care of orphans. We felt that adoption was a pretty cool way to do that. Yes, I know those reasons are not “acceptable” within part of the adoption community, but those were our reasons. Whatever arguments you may have for or against our initial inducements, all I can say is, there is absolutely no way we could love our little Joseph more, and under no circumstance do we consider him a “charity chase” and under no circumstance do we believe he should “appreciate all we’ve done” anymore than our other (biological) children.

Rewind a couple years … we simply wanted to adopt an orphan in need. We knew so very little. As embarrassingly naive as it sounds, I thought ‘an orphan is an orphan’, and how can adopting one be bad? Perhaps we knew just a tad more than that, but not much. I thank God everyday He protected us, because quite honestly one agency with an absolutely terrible ethical reputation was on our “list of considers.”

So, we took the leap, and we sent in our application and began our process to adopt a baby boy from Ethiopia.

It was really then that I began to learn. I joined yahoo boards (several of them) and started reading blogs (lots of them) of families who had adopted from Ethiopia. I read lots of happily-ever-after stories. I also read several horror stories about agencies recruiting babies from hungry, poor (but probably really good) mothers off the streets of Ethiopia. I read of agencies lying to families, selling adoption as something temporary or as a coparenting type of situation. I read scary stories about one of the agencies we had considered, and wondered how in the world I could have been so ignorant. It is what it is, and I’m not proud. All I can say is, you don’t know what you don’t know, until you know it. I will never judge a parent who (unknowingly) signed on with an unethical adoption agency. It easily could have been me. I suppose it’s what you then do with that knowledge that matters.

Fast forward to now. . . we are in the midst of our second adoption, an adoption we did not initiate but one we are no less excited about. This time, however, could not be more different. Somewhere along the way, I misplaced my rose colored glasses. I now question everything, and want to challenge every truth that is thrown my way. I play a mental tennis match between God’s call to care for orphans, how to do that best, family preservation, supply and demand for healthy babies, and what that means for defending the rights of the oppressed. I wonder what was done for my sons’ birth father. If he had been given some assistance, could he parent these boys? My agency never considers “poverty alone to justify international adoption.” I want to know, specifically, what they do to back up their policy. What I blindly accepted as “good form” the first go round, I want details and specifics and proofs of this go round.

I have nagging questions that never existed before. “Did someone approach MB’s dad about adoption, or was it his idea?” “Did he truly understand adoption was forever, that he may never see his son again?” “Did our meeting with Joseph and MB’s dad and the pictures we sent look so appealing, so wealthy, that we somehow convinced him to relinquish another child?” For the record, I have no basis for these questions and I’m pretty sure I know the answers. I have no doubts about our first adoption. I consider our agency to be very ethical and I have no reason, through our experiences or experiences of lots of fellow families, to believe otherwise. However, since I misplaced my rose colored glasses along the way, I do not believe any adoption agency to be perfect, to be above reproach, above questioning.

In all this muddied water we call orphan care, I believe we can rely on One truth. God’s truth says “religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress” (James 1:27), and His word says to “defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and oppressed” (Psalm 82:3). I still believe adoption to be a good thing. However, to consider the needs of the weak and fatherless, the poor and oppressed, we must realize that sometimes those categories overlap overwhelmingly to our birth families. What do we do with that? What do we do for them?

If I could say one thing to someone who feels called to orphan care, to someone considering adoption, it would be to struggle . . . to research, research, research, ask questions, even the hard ones, and listen to the answers, even the hard ones, even the bitter we-had-a-horrible-experience ones. You don’t necessarily have to agree with their conclusion, but listen to their experiences and perhaps heed some of their warnings. Our children, our children’s birth families, our children’s nation – they are worth this struggle. In the end, seek knowledge, truth, and the Father’s wisdom.

What does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8

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Shonda

Shonda is

Worth the Wait

How I have longed to write this post! So many times, I have stared at my sidebar where “Introduction” posts are listed. 1st, 2nd and 3rd unsuccessful adoptions. Dare I write a “1st successful adoption” post, or would there be a 4th? I decided to wait.

Here I sit, one day after finalization, and the world is such a lovelier place! It is with such peace and joy that I am writing! Sometimes, you don’t realize how heavy your heart has been until you can finally sigh in relief. I truly thought finalization would just make the legal reality match the reality of our hearts, that we are, indeed, a family. But, I have such relief and feel so much lighter today! Such sweet joy!

Last night, I couldn’t fall asleep. My usual practice at this point is to picture Christ on the cross while I say my prayers. But, when I summoned the mental image, what appeared was different. Christ was resurrected. I almost cried right there in bed lying next to my husband and baby.

Thank you, Jesus, my Lord, my Redeemer, and my Savior, for resurrecting my cross. Thank you for bringing our hopes and dreams to a reality. Thank you for bringing new life from our wounds and for not sending our love back void. Thank you for this precious, beautiful, sweet baby girl. I am so not worthy, but I will rejoice in this precious gift with all my heart.

It’s difficult to know where to begin Abigail’s story. Is it with infertility? The previous adoption that she came on the heals of? Or just the moment we laid eyes on her at the hospital? I’ve come to understand that it’s all of the above and more. It began with loving my brothers and seeing my parents openness to life. It’s babysitting and learning to nurture. It’s loving my husband and seeing our babies in his eyes. It’s in the Lord who “chose us in Him before the foundation of the world” (Ephesians 1:4). It’s in love!

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Precious Abigail,

I have longed for you for as long as I can remember! Your Daddy and I dreamed of holding you, loving you, teaching you and being with you since we knew we were going to get married! You have always been a part of our lives, before we even knew your name. It took us a long time to get to you, and parts of the journey were very hard, but you were so worth the wait.

Daddy and I wanted our family to grow, and we were hoping to adopt a special baby. Three different times we thought we’d found our baby, but it did not work out. Each time we were heart-broken and prayed for the strength to trust the Lord and try again. A few days after our third heartache, we went to our social worker for help. “How can we get through this?” we asked. “How can we try again? It is so painful when your hopes and dreams end so abruptly.” Ms. Anne listened to the Lord and asked us to be very brave. She told us that even though we were sad about Caeden Michael, there was another Tummy Mama who wanted us to be the baby’s family.

We left that day knowing that a baby girl was going to be born in a month and that we were hoping to be her parents. We were so scared, but the Lord gave us the courage we needed to try again. “Take courage!” Jesus whispered to my heart again and again. I kept picturing a beautiful curly haired girl, and my heart would dare to hope again. I begged the Lord that this time we could be the baby’s parents.

On September 12, 2010, Ms. Anne called us. “The baby girl was born! Can you come to the hospital?” We jumped in the car and started driving before we realized we had forgotten our camera! Quick! Back to the house and out again to see YOU!

You were SO BEAUTIFUL. You were so AWAKE! You didn’t want to miss ANYTHING! You were looking all around and stared at your Daddy. He stared right back at you- totally in love! We held you and loved you as long as we could before we had to go back home. The whole way home I looked at all the pictures and show them to your Daddy. We could not get enough of you!!! When we got home I dared to cut the tags off the girl clothes that we bought and washed them! I packed the diaper bag and moved the cradle from the guest bedroom closet into our room. Would there REALLY be a baby there soon? We were still so scared!

The next day we picked up breakfast and drove to the hospital. Daddy and your tummy mama’s friend went to get coffee in the hospital and your tummy mama and I got to talk and stare at you. She loves you SO much, Abigail. She was one hundred percent convinced she had the perfect family for you. She held you and cuddled you and kissed you- and then she handed you to me. We drove her home, and then we had you all to ourselves!

Ms. Leslie and Ms. Robin came to see you and we proudly showed off our new daughter!

The next morning, your Daddy had to do a few things, so I had you ALL TO MYSELF! I savored every moment and could not get enough of you. I stared and stared and stared at you. I could not believe I was in charge of feeding you and changing your diapers. I was in complete awe. This was the day we would take you HOME!!!!

But not before we got some bad news. Right before you were released from the hospital, we found out there was a legal technicality, and that you may not get to stay with us. I wanted to die. Never before have I been SO SCARED in my whole life. You were our daughter. We were totally and completely in love with you. It was with joyful and heavy hearts that we signed our papers and brought you home. It was the best and the worst week of my entire life. The best because YOU were HOME! OUR home!!! And we were MADE to be your parents! But it was the worst because we were TERRIFIED of losing you.

Grammie and Gabbie came to visit and they fell in love, too!! They stayed until Monday when Ms. Anne came. She knew more about our situation and we were able to breath more easily.

Months have gone by. You were Baptized into God’s family and adopted by the Lord! And now you’re officially ours! We are overwhelmed with gratitude to the Lord for trusting us with your care. We are in awe of the sacrifice it took to bring you to us. You are our living miracle. You are our tangible reality of hope. You are our daughter, and we love you with all our hearts.

With all our love
Mommy and Daddy

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To anyone who’s been hurt and is afraid to try again,

Chuck E. Cheese Meltdown

I could have sobbed. The kind where you make crazy, uncontrollable noises. The kind where your face makes some unsightly expressions. The kind that gives you the worst headache ever. But, I didn’t.

Right in the middle of the chaos of Chuck E. Cheese, I was watching my son being held by his birthmom. It was beautiful, awkward, and humbling all at the same time.

It was beautiful.

She was staring at him, and Max was staring right back at her. I could see the love she has for him and I would love to know what is going on in her mind. I will never know all that she thinks and dreams about for our little Max, but I do know one thing. She loves him bad.

It was awkward.

There were times when I felt so insecure. I found myself being very guarded about what I told her in fear that one of my parenting choices would disappoint her. I need to get over that. It’s also hard to know how much to tell her. Does she want to know that he smiles now when I go to his crib in the morning? Or that he’s especially fond of “Merle the Monkey” on his activity mat?

It was humbling.

It hit me. She gave her son to us. Talk about feeling unworthy. I wish everyone could know what that feels like.

I wanted Max to smile for her. He didn’t. The entire 2 hours we were together, he didn’t crack one little grin. I was so bummed. I wanted to give her that gift. As we were heading to our cars, Max woke up and she wanted to take just one more picture. She leaned down to him and said, “I love you,” and he gave her a huge toothless smile. I’m pretty sure she did a little dance.

I think we were both very satisfied with how well the evening went, and we’re ready to do it again soon.

Oh yeah. When I got in the car, I sobbed.

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Abby Akers

Abby has been married to her college sweetheart, Wes, for 7 years. After 5 years of infertility, they began the journey of domestic adoption. Blessed with a (more than they had planned) open adoption experience, they were able to witness the birth of their first child, Max, last summer. Wes and Abby are trusting God as he leads them in their relationship with Max’s birth family.

Feeling No Pain

Today I watered the kids as well as the veggie and flower gardens. This was Scarlett’s first exposure to the hose and so we took it slow. She loved it and shrieked and laughed her way through the hose spray.

Priceless.

Towards the end of it, she ran onto the driveway and fell down. Because she falls all the time and gets right back up, I didn’t think anything of it. I went over to her, but she just got back up and ran off to continue the pursuit of the hose. It was only after we came back into the house that I noticed the back of her arm. She had a huge, open, bloody scrape on the back of her elbow.

Now, if this had been one of my bio kids, they would have been going on and on about it. They would have been “this close” to death, the agony, and so on. This child never uttered a single word about it. In fact, when I took her into the bathroom to clean it, again, she didn’t utter a word. My bio kids would have been SCREAMING bloody murder.

She never said a thing. It’s as though she was immune to the pain.

How is that possible? How can she not have felt that and wanted comfort for the pain?

She received kisses and tickles and everything else in between regardless because that’s what I do. But, I was a little freaked out. The two older kids were freaking out.

Why wasn’t she crying?

My heart is still crying for her. For her lack of acknowledgement of the pain she must have been in…
For her thought that no one was going to comfort her anyway so why bother…
For her heart that must be crying, even though her face isn’t…
For every time she has fallen down and picked herself back up without someone there to help her up…
My heart aches…

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Kenlyn Jones

Kenlyn started advocating for the children of Shepherd’s Field about 3 years ago through sponsorship and fundraising. Adoption was not on their radar. God called them to help the children, and it took them a little while to realize it would be through adoption as well. Kenlyn aims to blog the “real story”– “the good, the bad, the ugly” — in hopes of better preparing adoptive families for their children’s homecoming. Go check out their blog and see their newest addition recently home from China.

And the Name is…

Will

Gentle 6 will be officially named
William JiaLe Gentle

  • Rob’s reaction, “I never suggested it.”
  • Charlie’s reaction, “Will! How will I ever remember Will? It is too hard!”
  • Jack had no reaction. He’s still oblivious to the idea of another brother. Yesterday, we were working on the idea of categorizing people: brothers, cousins, friends, etc. Jack was adamant that he is the sister of the family.

So, where and why did we pick Will? I’d like to share a little about Mike’s and my creativity level.

  • Rob’s full name came from his two grandfathers’ first names.
  • Charlie’s full name came from reversing his dad’s full name.
  • Jack…Well, we were out of family names, and we both liked the name. It wasn’t a sure thing though. His Chinese name meant lucky omen. There are few American names that mean lucky omen. I substituted gift from God for lucky omen found John, Johnathan, and Jack. That seemed to seal the deal. Jack it would be.

So, why Will? Jia Le means happy family. I didn’t really see any American names that meant the same thing. We resorted to reviewing the Social Security Administration list of popular names. Mike suggested Will along with two others. I too liked Will. So, after going public with the name, I felt bad. The other boys have a story to go with their names. This kid’s name just seemed right. Thinking it over, maybe there is a bigger story, and here’s my first attempt at documenting its significance for me.

Wikipedia has this to say about the meaning and origins of William:

Newer Everyday

Originally published on her blog February 22, 2011…

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Today is Caden’s second birthday…and his first birthday at home. I feel like I should write a post commemorating the occasion, but I’m really torn on how to do that. Birthdays are a celebration. Hats, streamers, noise makers, cake, and confetti. But, today, I have tears.

Becoming Caden’s mother changed me in a way that I never expected. While he is such a joy and delight…truly a person to celebrate…I find myself grieving. I grieve the 21 months that I wasn’t his Mommy. I grieve the fact that I don’t know what happened two years ago today. There is an entire story surrounding his birth that I’m not privy to. I didn’t hear his first cries, and I didn’t feel the wonder a mother feels when she looks at her newborn child for the first time. I grieve that “loss.” And I grieve for the woman who DID hear his first cries, but gave him up four days later in an act of desperation that I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around. I grieve that Andrew wasn’t there for “Gotcha” and won’t meet his son until three months after homecoming. I grieve that Caden is losing his ties to the Chinese culture.

And yet…I rejoice in my son in a way I never expected. Already having three children, I expected #4 to be pretty much routine. It’s anything but. Everyday, I stand in awe of the work God did when he brought Caden into our family. I still can’t grasp the wonder of it. Everytime he hugs my neck or reaches his little arms out for me to hold him, I am filled with a million emotions and worry that my heart can’t contain them all. While the joy and sheer radiance of the moment fills me to the brim, I also feel very sorry for the “unknown Chinese mother” that’s missing out on those sweet moments. I don’t know the circumstances surrounding Caden’s birth, and I know nothing of his birth family other than their basic geographic location. But I love the woman who brought my son into this world. I’m thankful for her sacrifice. I wish I could swing by and pick her up on our way to lunch today…celebrating in the miracle of our son with his favorite steamed dumplings.

I expected to board a plane bound for the US and leave China…only my heart never did. Part of it remains with a family in a rural part of China’s most populated province. Part of it remains in an orphanage not too far from that rural location. Part of it remains with the college student I met while attending church in Guangzhou. I have Chinese artwork in my home, a Chinese bracelet on my wrist, and a Chinese boy on my lap. And I don’t know what to do with it all. Pieces of China here, part of my heart there. Dreams of bringing more Chinese children into our home, dreams of being the hands and feet of Christ to the people of China.

When I left the US bound for China, I knew exactly who I was and exactly what I wanted. The only part of China my heart was longing and aching for was supposed to come home with me on an IH3 visa. But I can’t love him without loving the land of his birth…the people of his birth country…and the children waiting just like he once was. And I’m learning that loving a once-orphan from a foreign land brings with it a heaviness that I don’t know how to manage. So many of my priorities have changed, and yet so many haven’t.

Two years ago, a little boy was born in China. Four days later he became an orphan. Just over two months ago, he became a beloved son. He is now a US Citizen with a great belly laugh that is developing a fluency in English. Becoming his Mommy shattered my heart and turned my world upside down in the most incredible way possible, and now I’m experiencing a rebirth of my own….

We turn not older with years, but newer every day.
–Emily Dickinson

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Tara Anderson

Tara Anderson began a journey of grace over 20 years ago when she walked the aisle of a little country church and gave her heart to Jesus. She is a stay-at-home mother of four, the youngest of whom was adopted through the China Waiting Child Program in November 2010. Not too long ago, Tara knew exactly who she was and exactly what she wanted out of life…but now she’s just trying to figure out who God intends her to be, and what He wants from her. You can get better acquainted with Tara on her personal blog, Following Our Leader.

Tune In

Lauren

Lauren, author of Our First Failed Adoption featured on WAGI on March 9th, has been invited to a live interview Monday morning, April 4th. She will be chatting with Gus Lloyd on his show Seize The Day at 8:00 AM EST about their adoption story. It will be on satellite radio, Sirius 159, XM 117. Or, you can listen online here.

Go to her blog and leave her some words of encouragement as she prepares to share!

Therapy

Being a parent to a child with special needs is hard. No getting around it. No parent would tell you otherwise. As I sit and reflect this morning after a heart wrenching physical therapy session with our daughter Macy, I am at a loss. I feel such an imbalance and unrest. On one side Macy hates therapy. She is delayed in her physical growth and in her gross motor skills. She is 14 months old (11 months on the charts because of being a preemie). She sits up, army crawls, babbles, smiles, communicates exactly what she wants and is sad when she hears the word no. Last week she began standing, holding onto furniture. This was the first time EVER that she would bear weight on her feet. Even standing on our laps or at other times over the past year, she has never put her feet down and jumped or bounced. She just pulls them up and wants to sit. Always has. So, when she started to stand, I became very hopeful. She can do it. We are seeing something that she can do. It put an end to the questioning of her physical ability to stand and walk eventually. But after a week of working on standing and loving it, Macy is going backwards. Mommy doesn

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