It was one year ago that we were notified of a referral of a
7-month Ethiopian boy. That boy has
become our son in the last year and has brought us incredible joy.
Thinking back to where we were as a family a year ago seems
almost like another life. Despite being on the list for so long (and on the top
of the list for so long) we had no idea that we were that close to getting the
‘call.’ It was a crazy time for us—we
were super busy with work, life and fun and for the first time in our three
year process, my guard was down and I wasn’t expecting any news.
I have written here about our experience of getting the call
but a year later I want to write a bit more about how my perspective has
changed.
Much is written about what it is like to get the ‘call’ but
I think some adoptive blogs do a disservice when they romanticize this
experience. I use the term romanticize
as an approximation because I don’t know how else to state it. In general, I think personal blogs tend to
focus on the idealized version of a life because it’s hard or complicated to
put yourself out there in a public forum.
I am as guilty of this practice and can’t almost chart a
direct correlation between my own blogging frequency and my attitude towards
what is going on personally. When I am heavy or uncertain regarding a private
situation, the deeper thoughts tend to quiet my silly and playful side. My mind is consumed with things that I may
not want to be public and hence I don’t have a lot of blog chatter.
That said, I do want to be a little more transparent about
our experience with the referral because I think it may help other
families. I find a lot of support and
insight from reading other adoption blogs and want to share our experience in
case some other family finds comfort in it.
The Story:
Matt and I both got the information in different locations
but waited until we were together to look at the photos of the sweet boy that
would become ours. The first
twenty-four hours were dizzying and incredibly joyful. We decided to make the news public and even
shared two bottles of champagne- one with our friends who were there when we
got the pictures and one with Matt’s parents much later that night. I didn’t sleep much that night, even waking
up several times to pull the picture of our little guy up on my
phone.
For those of you who haven’t been through the Ethiopian
adoption process, generally you receive a referral which is a little like a
match.com profile. It has some pictures,
health information, relevant background information etc. After receipt of the profile you have the
ability to ask a list of clarifying questions, which can range from
developmental milestones, more details about their background or any
personality characteristics you think might be helpful. Ultimately through this dialogue and exchange
of information you make a decision to say yes or no. For me, it was true that I felt an instant pull to the above picture and some divine belief that this was the child for me. However, I did have a lot of questions as my head started to counter whatever was going on in my heart.
I was caught off guard with three things at this point.
1.
I wasn’t
expecting any stress related to this process. It’s incredibly emotional on a
variety of fronts. The exhilaration that
comes from possibly having a baby, the fear of suddenly seeing him as a real
person, the realization of the gravity of the situation, the commitment you are
making to raising him and the hope that you will honor his life by raising him
to the best of your abilities. Yes, you
do feel an instant bond with the picture you have now printed and probably
already framed. I don’t want to discount
the joy of the experience but it is also a very serious time as well.
2.
How much
faith it would take to either say yes or no. You don’t get all your questions
answered. In my mind, it’s appropriately
a tough decision. I liken it to making a
marriage based on the match.com profile.
You are making a life-long commitment to a vulnerable little
person. In our case, we were also
thinking about Deirdre and James in how we were altering our family
dynamic.
Our agency was phenomenal in this area—our
caseworker in particular was very metered and fair about how she has seen
families go through this process and I felt much more at ease because of her
guidance and support.
She was very clear about what sorts of
things are appropriate to the culture. For example, we asked to have them take
a picture of Simon smiling. She
countered and said, yes we can ask however it isn’t in Ethiopian culture to
have children smile in photos and we probably wouldn’t receive that
picture. However, it didn’t mean that he
didn’t ever smile. . . they just weren’t going to send that photo. Also we asked for a description of his
personality and we were told that he was ‘a typical baby.’ Given my nature, I would have liked more of
these details but I understood the limitations of the communication and
cultural differences and felt supported by our agency in making a big decision. There was no pressure one-way or the other
and we were guided many times to trust our instincts.
3.
People
will react but maybe not in the way you expect. For
the most part people were awesome. We
did receive a number of people who made comments about how great it was that we
were saving a baby or how generous we were which can make you feel a little
awkward. Yes, we did feel called to
adoption but it doesn’t qualify you for sainthood! You receive many, many rewards from the joy
of raising a child!
One standout comment came while
we were still in the referral process. I mentioned how the process was advancing and about how we were asking some clarifying
questions and someone responded by asking:
"well, there’s no way you wouldn’t love that
child is there?" A
couple things come to mind—one declarative, sweeping statements like that make
my skin crawl. Two, this is a very grave
decision and one that needs to involve both the head and the heart. It is easy to get swept up in the emotion
(romance) of adoption but I would advise families or singles that enter into
the crazy world of adoption to be cautious with wearing their heart on their
sleeve. I found my confidence really
shaken by letting someone question my capacity to love despite the fact that I
know being honest about what Matt and I felt comfortable with over a lifetime
was the right decision. I love my
children greatly and I think to the point that it clouds my analytical
mind. Matt was more balanced during this
phase . . . so a follow up bit of advice: marry Matt.
It really works.
I have a hard time not applauding most of
the people in our lives though—most folks were amazing, asking us the details,
not shying away from the beauty and the hardship. (We
are even thankful for the folks who said silly things as they did so with the
best intentions.) We are continually thankful for the grace of our people
during what ended up being an emotional rollercoaster!
I write all this and yet really this is about Simon and his
incredible story. We started with a
picture of beautiful baby and one year later we have a son who bounces around
our house, plays tunnel through our legs, says hi and bye and points to his
hair, nose, ears and is the primary instigator in the Fitzpatrick screaming
contest.
It really is an incredible experience and one that we are
thrilled with the outcome. Adoption is
about making a leap and I am so glad that our leap landed us all in a soft
place. I am writing a lot about the fear,
faith excitement and this overwhelming bag of emotions that we were swirling in
a year ago so that others can share the experience. Adoption in our case has been purely
wonderful—in fact something we would consider again—but for many it can be very
trying. I think it’s important take into
account the full spectrum and feel comfortable asking questions when undergoing
a big commitment like this and to support others wherever they are on the
journey.
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