Category: Realities

Expectations, realities, real struggles

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Abandoned

This adoption journey has run us through every emotion imaginable. The good, the bad, and the ugly have all been a part of this process and sometimes all at once. Today was one of those days. I sat down today to begin filling out more forms that we need to take to the Consulate appointment at the U.S. Embassy which will occur at the end of our trip in June to bring our daughter home.

The very first form on the checklist I tackled was the I-604, Determination on Child for Adoption. This is a form we are filling out on behalf of our child, and it was exciting to begin writing our baby girl’s name for the first time: Emma Katriel Jiana Hampton. I’m going along following the example our agency included in our packet, no problems. Until I get to page 2, question 9, and this is what I read:

Intended child is an orphan because:
Mother — Abandoned
Father — Abandoned

Man, that word abandoned jumped off the page at me and just smacked me across the face. The next thing I knew, tears where filling my eyes as I had to check that abandoned box.

What’s weird is that this comes to no surprise to me. I knew that this is the way it works in China. A birthparent must abandoned his or her child somewhere, where that child will quickly be found, so that he or she will not suffer punishment. So, why did that word hurt so bad today? Is it because I have a little face to put to that word and so it becomes more real? I don’t know but I hurt so badly for my little one who has suffered great loss so early in her life.

As I struggled with these sad emotions today, the Lord brought to mind a couple of verses from Scripture. He spoke these verses to me just when I needed them most. The first is in Psalm 68:5 when He tells us that God is a father to the fatherless. Even though my baby has not had the positive experience of an earthly father, she has had the Father of all fathers watching over her and caring for her, a Father who created her in His image and for His glory. She is so very special.

The second passage was one that had been one of Eli’s memory verses, and that is Hebrews 13:5b-6a: I will never desert you, nor will I ever forsake you, so that we confidently say, “The Lord is my helper, I will not be afraid”.

To know that the God of the universe has never abandoned Emma…now that brings comfort to this momma’s heart who is hurting so bad for her daughter.

God,
Thank you so much for your promises, promises that are true and we can stand on. Thank you for choosing me to be Emma’s momma, long before the foundation of the world was laid. It is a privilege to have this call on my life.

Thank you God that you are with her all the time. Hold my baby tight until I can wrap my arms around her. And please, make that happen fast. Don’t let her be an orphan for one more day than she has to. ~ Amen

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Shawna Hampton

I am a follower of Jesus Christ who desires more than anything to be a Proverbs 31 woman but who falls short daily. I have been married to my husband, Matt, since 2002. I am a mother to two biological boys, ages 6 and 1. My husband and I are heading to China in June to bring home our 1-year-old daughter. Follow along on their blog.

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Big Talks

I’ve been wondering when it would happen. I think it is starting now. I think I have seen the very tippy top of the iceberg of Therese’s grieving.

Last night my sweet Therese poured forth story after story about her life in Yako. These were not pleasant stories. These are the rip your heart out, no child should have witnessed, or seen stories like this. Three hours worth of stories, and I got the impression there are so many more.

Therese told me that she is tired of feeling sad all the time (you would never know she feels sad at all from how she behaves). She knows that here, in America, we “talk talk talk and cry” when we are sad, but not in Yako. She said she wants to cry, but she “doesn’t can’t” (I love that phrase of hers!).

I reassured her that she will cry when she is ready. I told her that God gave us a way to get the sad out of our hearts, namely crying, and retelling our story. I told her that God will do amazingly wonderful things with those sad stories of hers.

Therese told me it is better to adopt a baby, because babies do not have so many sad stories as a girl who is ten. I told her that I wanted a 10-year-old girl, and I am here to listen to her stories. I find her stories, even the sad ones, to be precious. I treasure her stories, and I will help her remember the ones she wants to remember and to use the difficult ones for good. I want my 10-year-old girl, hard stories included, because she would not be Therese without those hard stories.

More importantly, I know a Savior who specializes in hard stories, and He redeems them all if you let Him. Therese knows Him too, and many of her stories include God saving her from harm or revealing something to her that helped her save some one else.

I admit I woke up this morning feeling a little sick and incredibly daunted by the task of raising this sweet girl with too many hard stories. Lord, can I do this? His answer to me was a gentle, “No, you can’t, but I CAN. Come to me and I will pour out wisdom straight from my heart.”

Okay, Lord, we will do this together. You lead. I will follow.

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Erika Solgos

Erika has been married to Casey for 11 crazy beautiful years. Erika is mom to two 10 year olds and two 6 year olds who aren’t twins! Therese (10), newly adopted from Burkina Faso, is awaiting heart surgery. Evelea (10) willingly gave up her position as oldest child so we could add Therese to our family. Sitota (6) was adopted from Ethiopia and brings a lot of fun to the family. Carter (6) has had six heart surgeries and gave us the courage to adopt a child with a heart defect. They are astounded that as our family doubled in size, our love quadrupled. You can learn more about their family on their blog.

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Don’t forget to go back and read this post to enter our giveaway from The Invision Project

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Measuring

Measuring.
We do it all the time.
I could go on a tear about how we as Americans do it, with everything, but that might be a whole ‘nother post…and the point is that we do it consciously or unconsciously…ALL THE TIME.

But, let’s stay focused: as parents we measure…what? Everything, right? Right!
And no matter how you became a parent, you still measure everything…right?
Hmmm. Think maybe not? Consider.

If you are having a baby (meaning you are pregnant and are gonna literally give birth to a child), from the very moment you find out you are pregnant, there you are: measuring.

You count the days since your last period; you measure how many weeks along you are;

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Love is…

This post is a reminder to myself. Because I’m not loving anyone well right now.

And, I am not so lovable or fun to be around.

You see, I am struggling greatly with how to really love.

Love that is absent of jealousy.

Like when I hear how smooth another person’s bonding/attachment is going with their newly adopted child.

Yea, I am jealous like that.

And, yet ,that isn’t love!

It isn’t loving my family or loving the way God brought our family together.

So, instead of seeing the growth and the lessons our Lord is teaching me through hard times,

I get jealous,

and then I start complaining,

about how it was SOOOO much harder for us than them,

and I blind myself to the goodness of my Savior.

I want a love that is does not take into account a wrong suffered.

Where I can walk through a time when I was hurt, deeply, by someone who said they loved me

and forgive them,

and hug them when I see them,

pray for them when they need prayer,

or hurt when they hurt.

Without holding it over their head how much I was hurt,

because that’s not forgiveness, nor is it love.

Am I the only one who feels like this sometimes?

When I should be loving and kind with my child who has been oh.so.difficult

ALL.DAY.LONG.

And I am not.

And I hurt them with my words out of my frustration.

And I ask for their forgiveness, because I was the one who was unkind.

Why is this so hard?

To love others well. To love them like Christ calls us to?

I want to be more than I am now.

Not in a wordly sense like having more money, greater status, or more things to have around my home.

I want to be filled and overflowing with love,

for my family, my friends,

and the stranger I meet in the store.

“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love”

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Confusion is Reigning in Our Home

wowzers.

I finally got my act together enough last week to invite some new friends of friends of friends over to our house for dinner.

Friends that have lived in China for 13 years
that are here for a year on sabbatical
and are
of course
fluent
in Mandarin.

It was such a great evening!
I made tacos
because really,
what’s more Chinese than ~ ahem ~ tacos.
And once the boys got over their initial shock of perfect mandarin flowing out of the mouth of a very white American man they opened up
big time.

Had I even known how downright confused and lost my precious boys were I would have had them over the day after we returned home.
Jet lag and all.

We found out so much that night.
Some good.
Some not so good.
Some downright awful.
Things that, as their mother, I am still processing.

For starters Jacob and Joey had no stinkin idea that they were here to stay.
No.
Idea.
The fact that for nearly 3 months they have woken up day after day after day after day and wondered if today is the day that
they
will
be
sent
back
is nearly too much to bear.

You could have sucked the life right out of me when those words came out of their mouth and
I’m pretty sure a piece of my heart shattered at that moment.
Sweet, sweet boys.

They are going to be your parents and love you and take care of you forever they were told.
“Impossible.” Jacob answered.

Oh my heart.

He wanted to know if we were “happy with them.”
As if we were still trying them on for size and about to activate some kind of return policy.

Sweet boy.
Sweet innocent boy.
If only you knew the depth of the love that we have for you.

At one point, he began to catch a glimpse of that secure future and somewhat understand and the look on his face when it dawned on him that he really does get to stay was a moment I shall not soon forget.
He.
Lit.
Up.

We had some funny moments mixed in with some things that were very hard to hear.
Funny things like, when they were told about our upcoming move, they said that we had too much stuff, and there was no way it was going to fit in our new house.
Would the toys come with us?
The swimming pool?
The clothes?
The couch?
The window blinds?

Yes.
No.
Yes.
Yes.
No.

When we found out that Joey has been having nightmares, we told him that he could come into our room and wake us up or call for us, and we would come comfort him.
He liked that idea.
And, for curiosity’s sake, I asked our friend to ask him what he did in China when he had nightmares.
Joey’s response was that one time he got up to go tell his foster parents but one of the other boys told him not to go in there because
they
might
be
making
a
baby.

Yeah.
Older child adoption…never a dull moment…or an awkward one for that matter…

So, the apparent confusion and silent chaos that they were living is ever so slowly being replaced by truth.
Replaced.
By.
Love.
…and from that…there’s no going back.

“For God is not a God of confusion but of peace….”1 Corinthians 14:33

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Sonia M.

Sonia and her husband John are an Air Force family with 6 boys ages 14, 13, 8, 8, 7, & 7. She stays at home part time and spends the other part of her time shopping at Stuff-Mart buying large quantities of food to feed said boys. Sonia’s hobbies include cooking, cooking, cooking more, cleaning, cooking, and cleaning bathrooms. They just returned from China with their two newest sons and are navigating their way through life attempting to glorify God in all that they do.

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Play-doh Revelations

Today, Cooper was playing play-doh at the kitchen table while I was washing dishes. He was chatting away to me as he did. He told me he was going to make a face with two eyes, a nose, and a mouth.

“I make him sad face.”

Something in me knew exactly where this was going, so I dried my hands and sat down at the table.

“Why is he sad?” I asked.

“He sad ‘cuz mama went to grocery store and he not find her. His mama all lost.”

Ok, think fast. Pray quick. What to say?

“Oh, and that makes him feel sad?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, that is sad.”

He continued to play play-doh and I continued to say a few things….honestly, I can’t even remember what now because I was on auto-pilot. In the end, the shape of the plate he was using to make the face sort of “forced” the face into a smile. I didn’t notice this and neither did he till it was done.

“Oh, he happy face.”

“Oh, yeah. He does have a happy face. Why do you think he is happy?”

“He happy ‘cuz his mama find him.”

This is the face of 4 year old grief….and we’re starting to see it and hear it now more and more. It’s a good sign (he trusts us) and, yet, it’s so hard to watch.

It doesn’t wait for you to have “all the right answers”. It humbles you pretty quick.

To be totally honest, I felt like I blew it today (although, while I can’t really remember what I said, I do remember that he never elaborated much on his story no matter what questions I asked). I’m not beating myself up though, because I know this is the tip of a deep, huge iceburg, and I’ll have many more opportunities to respond “better”. But, I did sympathize, let him talk, and tried not to put words in his mouth. I figure that’s a good start.

We’re all new to this- all of us- and I’m sure we’ll figure out our way.

Any advice on how to handle stuff like this when it comes up from those of you who have been there, done that?

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Jenna Hardy

Jenna is a teacher, turned stay-at-home mom, turned Children’s Ministry Director who is passionate about children. After hearing God’s call to care for orphans 4 years ago, she has become increasingly passionate about adoption and orphan care. She and her high school sweetheart, Scot, have been married for 13 years and recently brought home their son Cooper who is 3 years old and seriously adorable (go see for yourself!). They are excited to see what God will do in the next chapter of the story He is writing with their family. Jenna and Scot feel strongly about sharing their story so that they might be of encouragement to others in various stages of the adoption process. You can follow along with them on their trip and afterwards at Our Many Colored Days.

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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.

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The Pout

THE POUT has descended.

Are you an adoptive parent? Then you KNOW what I am talking about. I don’t think I’ve ever met an adoptive parent who has not encountered THE POUT.

For those of you unfamiliar with THE POUT, let me attempt to describe it.

What THE POUT looks like:

Child presents with mouth firmly shut with lower lip protruding. Often, arms are crossed. Head, may be down on tabletop or cocked to the side. Eyes emitting either look of death at parent, or oddly vacant with zero eye contact. In younger children, tummy may be pushed forward. In tween, hands on hips, hips forward, or arms crossed, hips forward. Feet are firmly planted to the floor.

Origin:

Child’s expectation of how adoptive parent should or should not respond to their desire (desire may be spoken or unspoken) has not been met in part, or in full.

What THE POUT is meant to communicate:

You brought me all the way from _________ (fill in country of origin) for THIS?

Psychological effect on the adoptive parent:

Irritability, helplessness, loss of rationality. THE POUT may cause all prior adoption training to go out the window.

Suggested Treatment:

During seasons of chronic POUTing, primary caregiver must take regular breaks for times of refreshment with whatever fills you up (i.e., coffee with friends, exercise, Bible study). It also helps if you can find the humor in the midst of a particularly potent POUT. Find a friend who knows the POUT and can talk you down. You may not want to hear this, but if you take the time to find out what is fueling THE POUT, you will, in time, eliminate THE POUT. Remember, there is more to THE POUT than meets the eye. It represents something- grief, loss of control, fear, etc. Good news- THE POUT is NOT fatal to child or parent (though at times it feels like it might be!).

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Erika Solgos

Erika has been married to Casey for 11 crazy beautiful years. Erika is mom to two 10 year olds and two 6 year olds who aren’t twins! Therese (10), newly adopted from Burkina Faso, is awaiting heart surgery. Evelea (10) willingly gave up her position as oldest child so we could add Therese to our family. Sitota (6) was adopted from Ethiopia and brings a lot of fun to the family. Carter (6) has had six heart surgeries and gave us the courage to adopt a child with a heart defect. They are astounded that as our family doubled in size, our love quadrupled. You can learn more about their family on their blog.

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A Rough Day…

It started over having to pay $32 for landing on someone else’s property in Monopoly.

That’s how it started. But, then, it progressed.

To pouting.
Then crying.
Then screaming.
Then yelling.
Banging.
Throwing.
Kicking.

45 minutes of the worst tantrum I’ve seen yet.

It started with Monopoly but really, I don’t think it had anything to do with Monopoly by the time it was over.

I’m not surprised by it. In fact, I’m more surprised that these episodes haven’t occurred more frequently considering all that she’s been through.

But that doesn’t make it any easier to experience.

When He called us to join Him on this journey, He never once promised that it would be easy.

But He did promise something even better than the easy road.

His presence.

He gave us (and all that follow Him) the assurance that He would always, always, be with us. And today, through the worst of it, I know He was present. Pouring out the wisdom, grace, compassion, and nerves of steel that I so desperately needed but severely lacked.

For 45 minutes, I prayed without ceasing and, for 45 minutes, I had inexplicable, indescribable peace.

I’m sure I didn’t do everything right. In fact, I know I didn’t.

But His grace is sufficient for me, for His power is made perfect in weakness.

And if in my weakness, she catches a glimpse of the grace that can heal her heart, then weak I will gladly be.

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Angela Taylor

Angela enjoys being a wife to one wonderful husband and mom to six fantastic kids (three by adoption). Her family just returned home from China in late January with their newest daughter, Lily, who is 8, and enjoys blogging about the ordinary and extraordinary moments of their days together at her

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