Published on We Are Grafted In a year ago today…
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Many of us in the adoption world are affectionately referred to as “fundraising families.” For the purpose of this post, we will go with FF for short. Our numbers are growing
Originally published on her blog on September 25th, 2010 and on We Are Grafted In on February 21, 2011….
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I woke up last night–okay, let me rephrase–Trevor woke me up last night at 2:00 with a bad dream. I quickly got him back to bed, tucked in tight, listening to Christmas music (his choice–good boy!), and went back to bed.
I was still awake at 3:30 when Jay Henry came in after having a nightmare.
I simply could not turn my brain off.
I truly feel like I’m failing Emebet. In every way possible. We make it through each day. But we are not moving forward. Every word, behavior, action, gesture and complaint from her cause me to react poorly. Even if it’s nothing extreme or purposeful, my immediate response and feeling is dislike. I do not like her. I do not like her being here. And I make her know it. This is not always the case, but often.
This has created a huge conflict in me. Why in the world do I act this way? How can my love for my biological kids be real and genuine, if I can treat another child so differently and with contempt? Why, when I am constantly praying and asking God to change our circumstances, do I go right back to these wordly, selfish actions? I know that my actions towards her cause her behaviors. I have no doubt about it. But it seems impossible to change my feelings. And we all know that it is so hard to act one way when you feel the exact opposite. I have always worn my emotions on my sleeve, and Kent can clearly verify that I cannot hide anything.
But last night, as I lay awake, praying for God to change this in me, my thought process changed a little. I turned the tables, and played my own devil’s advocate for our situation. If I were the one in a new home with new people and a family that was already established, and I was treated the way that I treat her, how could I possibly feel loved, cherished, important, or equal?
I absolutely wouldn’t. I would feel sorrow. Pain. Loss. And I, like her, would respond with defiance and anger. She is acting exactly like I am.
We are both experiencing pain. We have both experienced loss. We are both living in the midst of sorrow. And neither one of us is handling it well.
Immediately upon returning home, we were convinced that she needed rules and structure, which we quickly put in place. In doing so, I think we skipped over the part where we needed to love, love, love. Unconditionally and without reserve. No rules. No expectations of her. We seem to still be in that place. Expecting so much (partly because she is so capable). Giving so little.
My thoughts then went beyond that.
Most of you know what a scary beginning we had with Masyn. Almost losing your child creates gratitude that is huge. Deep down, she holds a special place that no one else can, because I know how close we came to not having her. She is my precious, precious girl who causes tears often because I am overwhelmed with love for her. Completely overwhelmed. It is really hard, then, to add in a child who creates the exact opposite feelings.
So after putting myself in Eme’s place last night, I put Masyn in Eme’s place and tried to imagine her losing us, her family. I then imagined the pain, terror, and uncertainty that she would face being relocated to another country where she didn’t speak the language, and never seeing her sweet brothers again.
And then I tried to invision her being placed in a home where she had a new mom who disliked her, and couldn’t see her for the amazing little girl that she is. And where she was yelled at all the time just because she was different than their existing daughter. And where she was not loved on in the midst of her grief and adjustment, but was told to stop crying because it was annoying.
This completely broke my heart. I would be devastated to know that my daughter were in such a place. I would be heartbroken that this little girl, who was so amazingly special to us, was being treated indifferently in what was supposed to be her new “family.”
I spent much of the rest of my “awake” time asking God to forgive me–yet-again–and to help me, every moment, shower Eme with love. I want to create an environment of security for her. I want her to know that she is loved, just like the others. That she is special. That we want her here. I want my behaviors towards her to be so different than what they have been. Mostly, I want my heart to want her here. I don’t want it to be fake. I want it to be genuine.
Today has been good. Her behaviors are still present, but my reaction to them is different. I am calm and loving in my responses. I am hugging and kissing on her any time I get the chance. I am trying to look at her through different eyes.
I know our struggles aren’t magically over by any means. But getting back to that place of surrender is key. God can’t change me when I’m being stubborn and closed-minded, and I have been living in that place. Bitterness has crept in and taken up residence. Last night, lying in my bed while the rest of the house slept, I wrestled with God, and He returned me to the place where He needs and wants me to be. Completely dependent. Completely reliant.
Hopeful.
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Kent and Lindy have been married for 10 years and have three biological children (two sons ages 8 and 6 and a daughter who is four) and our newest addition, Eme, who is 2
Adoption is not Plan B.
Not for us.
We have never looked at it this way, but in conversations with quite a few well-intentioned folks, I realize that the general population often views it that way.
“You know you’ll get pregnant as soon as you finish your adoption.”
“I know a lot of people ‘your age’ who are looking toward adoption because they can’t get pregnant.”
“Do you want to have your own children?”
I’ve learned that adoption is often viewed by many (on the outside looking in) as the consolation prize. Plan A didn’t work. So you’re settling for what is available.
I disagree and so would all the other adoptive parents I’ve ever met.
There is no Plan B.
The journey to adoption is NOT a surprise to God. He’s wasn’t caught off guard by the reasons or the path. For some it’s infertility or health reasons. For others it is how God calls them to add to their family.
For us, it’s because God is made it ABUNDANTLY clear that we are to adopt. Now.
Many people assume because we are adopting first that biological children are not an option for us. At this point, we have not heard otherwise, so we hope to welcome a freckled, type-A, northern/southern hybrid into our lives one day.
But whatever happens, it will be Plan A.
We are adopting now because there is a need, and we have a call. In the DRC alone, there are 5 million orphaned children.
We could not get that figure out of our minds and hearts. There was no reason good enough to hold off on adopting until we had biological children. We couldn’t stop talking about adoption. We needed to start the process.
We know it doesn’t make sense to most of the world. God made it clear, so we’re just following.
Any child brought into our home, biological or adopted, will be real and be our own. We pray that others will come to understand that as well, but we also know that we have the privilege of telling the story of redemption and grace each time someone questions our family dynamic.
The story of Plan A for our family.
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Leslie has been married to her husband Brian for a little over 2 years. They live in Montgomery, Alabama where Leslie works for a nonprofit agency and Brian is a student pastor. They are passionate about caring for the orphan and have helped start ONEfamily, an adoption, foster care, and orphan care ministry in their church. Their free time is made up of watching football, eating Mexican food, and spending time with their rambunctious puppy, Knox. They have chosen to adopt first and are currently awaiting a referral of one or two children from the Democratic Republic of Congo. You can read more about their adventures here.
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A few weeks back, Steve and the kids were at our town pool.
On this particular day, we were given a gentle reminder…about loss.
As Grace was happily holding Steve
On my blog, I offer a
We could not believe that we had been so deceived.
After months of preparation for adoption, first through foster care, and then from a birth mother who had approached us at church, we were within days of our twins being born. Only there were no twins. There were no babies at all. The birth mother was not even pregnant. We had been robbed, deceived, heartbroken.
Grief. The dark hole of the soul that seems to have no limits to its depth. My plans, my dreams, my joys, were ripped out from under me and my heart tumbled in a free fall into the murky pit of grief.
I mourned the children that never were. Though they had names, they had never existed. How do you grieve someone who never existed?
I grieved motherhood. For years, I had prayed that God would make me a mother, and I had believed that I was at last realizing that dream, only to have that dream snatched away.
I mourned my plans. My plans were to spend the first half of the summer devoted to being home. Though I knew the crazy schedules and sleeplessness would be exhausting, those disruptions were desired and loved. Now, I would have to take on a tremendous load of work
I was laying in bed this morning thinking about attachment. I am almost positive that our little ones are going to have a hard time attaching to us. What dawned on me, however, is that I may not love them right off the bat. Loving them may not come naturally like it did with Lily. I pondered this and turned to the Bible to see what God’s word says about love.
Of course, the first place to look is 1 Corinthians 13.
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.
After reading through that list, I realized that there is no mention of feelings. Love is NOT a feeling; it is what we do.
Let all that you do be done in love.
1 Corinthians 16:14
Love is an action, not a feeling.
This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you.
John 15:12
Love is a command. God doesn’t ask us to feel love. He commands us to love.
I will not hold on to the hope that the feelings of love will come. My hope is in Christ. Through Him I need to purpose to love my children. Christ is not looking for me to just want feelings of love, He wants me to act in love. All I need to do is follow the list in 1 Corinthians 13. That IS love! When I am patient, kind, and not seeking for myself, then I AM loving my children.
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Liz Grabowski is a daughter of Christ, wife to Jon and mother to five. Two of their children are born to them and three are adopted from Henan, China. Liz and her husband are currently in China adopting a 4-year-old boy and a 2-year-old girl. Their trip has been filled with challenges and joy. Click here to read about their journey so far and what is to come.
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If you haven’t already, go enter the WAGI birthday giveaway at this post.
Around here, birthdays aren’t complete without a gift or two. Why should WAGI be any different?
Wish I could give you all a gift–but with an average of 1,200 pageviews a day, I’m thinking that won’t work.
On August 11, 2010, I “clicked” and published the very first post on We Are Grafted In. I hoped that the site and forum would become a place where preadoptive and adoptive families would gather. I wanted, I needed that sort of place, a place where families could be honest and encourage in truth, a safe place for families to come and support one another in the adventure of adoption.
1 year, 140 contributors, and 230 posts later, I think it’s become that type of place–not because of any skill of mine or anything special I have done–and continues to grow and be used as God desires. I’m so thankful for that and that these posts–from people who are way better communicators than I am–have blessed so many.
As a reminder of those early days and what led to the name We Are Grafted In in the first place, I’m reposting that very first post with the only edits made to some formatting and my bio since it is a year later. No edits are needed on the text of the post–these truths remain.
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