More on Adoption

If you surf around blog land you find hundreds, and maybe
thousands of adoption blogs.  I like
reading adoption blogs, but I will tell you a secret.  Adoptive moms scare the bejabbers out of

It’s funny since maybe someday I will be an adoptive mom.  Yet I worry about saying the wrong thing, or
assuming the wrong thing, or being naïve, and the list grows.

I think adoption is like first-time parenting in a sense.  Let me explain.

We had Elena and I was like “Yay! All parents in the world unite lets do this thing the right way!” Then I read some stuff and
realized this:

Schedule feeding vs Demand Feeding
Gary Ezzo vs Dr Sears
Graco vs Infantino (hee hee)
How you were raised vs How you husband was raised

Then with experience you develop biases.  Some of the “fool proof” methods work for you.   You
may try all of them (like me! I did everything, sorry poor confused children of
mine) Your friends have their own biases, and you learn that it is what it is.  It’s not GODS TRUTH for the whole world.

Sometimes there is a little cat fight.
Usually you find someone that thinks similar to yourself.

So about two years ago we decided for sure we are going to do this thing.  We weren’t sure of the timing.  Then I started reading.  AND Oh my word.  Are there opinions? There are! There are
opinions for why you adopt. Opinions for how you adopt.  Good valid opinions.

Let me tell you for us one of the hardest things was just sorting through all
the options, and discussing what was right for us, with both of us being on
board with it.  Gene would have his
opinion, and I would have mine, and we would try to mold them together.  The thing is we had no experience AT ALL, to
get our opinions from, but stories and misconceptions and probably a myth or

For some reason it makes me want to curl up in a corner and cry.  And there are stories.  Heartwarming stories and horrible stories.

You can make blanket statements about adoption, and I think it has been true
for somebody.

Adoption has wrecked homes.
Adoption has healed homes.
Adoption is bad.
Adoption is good.

So in each adoption, there is a child, there is a family
that is losing a child, and there is a family that is gaining a child.  To me, that is very a sad scenario.

So, for me our Adoption journey is more of a
faith journey than anything.  Can I trust
God with this?  Is He big enough?  Can we do it? What am I saying?  I know we can’t.  Will this bite us in the butt? Did the desire
to do this really come from him? Are we just bleeding hearts with a savior
mentality?  Will this child fit into our
family? What if it NEVER happens, and its God’s way of closing the doors, but I
just keep on trying to make this dream happen?

There are a ton of voices thundering in my head.

And so in the mornings, I spend some time asking God to quiet the voices.  I ask him to make me not so concerned with
the specifics and more concerned that I live justly and love mercy and walk

And I feel that is about all I can do.

Super Tuesday

“You are so mean!” She yells, and then adds “So so MEAN”.   She stomps upstairs crying.  I sigh and roll my eyes.

My day had been busy.  It had ended with
a call to Gene reminding him that we forgot we had PTF that evening, and the
decision that I would be the one to go.

Quesadillas were fried, and flopped on the table.  I started eating without telling anyone, because
that’s how badly I wanted silence (plus I was running late).

I had sneaked into the gym late, and casted my votes for the fundraising
committees. (It’s simple, if you don’t know the candidates, always vote for the
person who’s name has a nice ring to it)

I had come home and thought my days duties were done.  It turns out that my duties are never done,
and I keep forgetting that lesson.

I had been short with her, I admit.  I
gave her attitude that said, “My stuff is so much more important than your
stuff, and I don’t have time for your stuff anyway”.  When a mom gives a little attitude, it is
returned to her in three-fold, another lesson I keep forgetting.

So while she was taking a bath, I went in and made my things right with
her.  With red swollen eyes she forgave
me, and understands that moms get grouchy too sometimes.

This morning it is all forgotten.  While
I was combing her hair she was telling me about the boy who is always hugging
her.  “Every time I walk by him he hugs
me, everybody knows that he likes me mom.”


So life keeps unfolding, and I know someday I will look back on these times
with such nostalgia, and wish I had been more patient, more loving, and not
been so overthinking about
everything.  I know that in our family we would be lost without forgiveness,
it makes everything go around.

That was my Super Tuesday, How was yours?