Pretty as a Picture

It occurs to me that folks may actually want to hear more about adoption and less about my housing crisis (ok, it’s not really a crisis, it just feels big and I’m being a bit dramatic about it). So here’s a bit more about adoption.

Adoption is a beautiful thing. 

There are children out there, through no fault of their own, in need of a home; a forever family.  There are families out there, like mine, who have the square feet, the mental and emotional energy, and the space in their life to extend themselves and absorb such a child into their family. 

Care for the orphans and widows is pure and faultless religion (James 1:27).

We have two biological children.  We had always talked about adding to our family after 2 bio kids through adoption.  Both I and my husband have adoptive cousins.  We are also both environmentally-minded and though it may sound kind of dumb to you, not adding to the expanding human population past creating our own replacements is a value we hold (some adults have even signed pledges to reduce the world’s population by not having biological kids).  So, because we have always had this plan, our kids have heard about it since day 1.  They were on-board with the adoption plan.  It affects the family as a unit; it’s something we took on as a unit.   

Remember the movie Lilo and Stitch (Disney 2002)?  In this film, an alien (Stitch) falls from the sky and comes in contact with a little girl (Lilo), an orphan, being taken care of (poorly) by her older sister.  The theme of the movie is Ohana – family – which, according to Wikipedia (2019) is part of Hawaiian culture with the intended meaning to include blood-related or adoptive famliy and in-laws, friends, and neighbors.  The idea being that we are bound together and everyone must work together and not forget each other.

Beautiful, right? 

We’re all connected; we’re Ohana.  We need to care for each other.  We can’t forget each other.  Can you say, “Kingdom of God?” 

Acts 2:44-47 New Living Translation (NLT)

⁴⁴ And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had.⁴⁵ They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need. ⁴⁶ They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity^. 47 all the while praising God and enjoying the goodwill of all the people. And each day the Lord added to their fellowship those who were being saved.

But, but, but, but…  BUT.   There’s a big but here.

As with the perfectly planned Christmas morning… it sounds good; but it ain’t gonna go the way you think. 

People are… human.

We are grouchy.  We are selfish.  We say things we shouldn’t. We don’t share. We like to c.o.n.t.r.o.l.

So, yes, Ohana is beautiful and adoption is a beautiful thing (big picture). But in the day-to-day.  It’s tough.  It’s draining.  It’s tiring. It’s ugly at times.

I always thought I was emotionally mature and aware enough that when that sweet little Stitch fell from the sky and crashed into my house, I’d be able to embrace him and his differences and love him fully and completely.

But, in real life, when little Stitch fell from the sky and crashed into my house… I was not a happy camper.  No one is really ok with small aliens crashing into their house.  Ok, no, no, not fair.  Some people are ok with small aliens crashing into their house.  I was not.  I am not ok with small aliens crashing the house, breaking the toaster, eating all the food, running amok.  This is something I have learned about myself.  The problem is, small aliens do not know that they are being so inconsiderate.  So, I felt invaded, 24 hours a day (‘cause small aliens don’t sleep well either) but with no way to explain ‘courtesy’ to an alien. 

Does that mean that I have changed my mind and no longer think adoption a beautiful thing?  Did I make a huge mistake? 

No.

Adoption is still a beautiful thing.  It is still a very-really, tangible, way to show God’s love here, now, in an important way to a vulnerable member of society.  But I also have a lot of realism.  Big-picture, adoption is beautiful.  Day-to-day, it is a mess!

We all have baggage.  Adopted kids have a monogrammed set.  It’s just part of the deal. 

When people say, “Oh, this is such a great thing you guys are doing.”

I think, “hmm, if only you saw me pulling my hair out and screaming like a crazy person yesterday.”

I guess that’s a lot of motherhood though.  Babies are sweet and cute but 2am diaper changes and bleeding nipples are not.  Adoption just brings with it a special set of flies in the ointment.  Maybe next time I’ll let you know about some of the special flies.

Waiting and Choosing

Every day I check the internet to see if there are any new house listings.  Ok, maybe more than once a day.  I may be a bit obsessive.  Plus, they made an app, people.  I can check it on my phone! 

Every day I check for new listings and usually there is nothing new.  Or, something new - momentary excitement -  that is not a good fit.  Two bedroom?  No thank you (I wish). 

The sensation is expectancy, a bit of doubt, a bit of realism, and then some disappointment. 

It reminds me of something…

It reminds me of last year (2018), about this same time, when I would check the Oregon State website: Oregon Adoption Resource Exchange.  This is the closed website that displays all the legally-free, adoptable children in the state of Oregon.

I would check it every day.  I would try really, really hard not to check it more than once a day.  I would search, altering the parameters.  What if the kid for me is just outside of my filters?  What if they are not 1-4 years old?  What if they are 11 months old?  What if they are older than that?  Maybe I should consider a 9 year old. I would read and consider and email our case worker, “what about XYZ?  What does ‘would do best as an only child’ mean?” 

I made lists, I took notes, I thought about what life would be like with each child and I submitted our name for consideration.  I prayed and yearned and prayed again.

We ended up submitting for 5 children and were selected to go to committee for 2.  That means the child’s case worker wanted us to be one of three families considered for the adoption of that child.  We could possibly have gone to committee for both, but thought that one was probably enough and also that one was actually a better fit for us than the other. 

God had a plan.

The child we ended up with was not the child I had imagined (I have been very transparent about this).  I tried really hard not to have expectations and yet… I inadvertently envisioned a quiet, 4 year old girl with dark hair – potty trained… loves to read...  Ok, ok, I failed at not creating expectations.  But we said again and again, “God, we want the child you have picked out for us.  We want you to choose.  Lead us to that child.”

And now we have 2 year old, bouncy, talkative (oh man, talkative), smiley, overly-friendly (never met a stranger), M.  And we have been assured and confirmed in myriad ways, that he is the child God wanted for our family.  Not the child we would have chosen given a line-up, but the child that was meant for our family (and vice versa).  That is more than a comfort.  That is a blessed assurance.