Stephanie
Their Normal
While I realize that our family has been formed a bit differently than most, to my children it is completely normal…as evidenced by some of the funny things they say:
Overheard as we drove past an airport…
That’s where people go to get their babies!
We often talk of traveling to get Miss A and Miss L, which always leads Miss E to ask…
Mom, where was I from?
She seems less than thrilled that she just came “from my tummy”.
Watching the Olympics we would often point out the athletes from China. To which Miss A replied,
“Just like me!”
At one point I think I said how a particular athlete was from China like Miss A, but he still lived there. Miss E was aback and said,
You mean he actually eats and sleeps there?
(As if it had never occurred to her that people live in China, but only come from China.)
Miss A came running into the room distraught during Olympic coverage saying,
Miss E say I not Chinese!
Oh, honey. You’re Chinese.
But she say I not Chinese! She say I USA!
Well, you are actually both.
_____________________________
Stephanie
18 years in the classroom as a teacher is nothing compared to teaching three little ones at home full-time. Through their three little girls, God has revealed Himself most clearly to them. He not only worked a miracle in giving them their biological daughter, He continued to show Himself in a mighty way throughout adoption journeys in China and Bhutan that were anything but normal. You can read more about their family on their personal blog We Are Family.
What {my} faith looks like
Matt loves to surprise me, but not in a way that I appreciate. He’ll frequently come up to me and say, “Close your eyes and open your mouth,” so he can surprise me with a treat. I can’t stand it when he does this. It’s not that I think he’s going to put something gross in my mouth, it’s that I don’t know what to expect. Sweet? Salty? Spicy? Crunchy? Gooey? Small? Big?
So, instead of readily closing my eyes and opening wide, I close my eyes, then peek, then close my eyes again, then peek, then close. Then I open my mouth as little as possible and cringe as I await the mystery food.
Which leads him to say, “You don’t trust me.” And, I tell him I do. I do trust him. I just hate the unknown…not knowing what to expect…which makes it look like I don’t fully trust him.
In reflecting on our adoption journey to Miss L, I feel like that is a perfect picture of what my faith looked like. Cringing, cautious faith.
Faith that was caught off-guard by a God who clearly answered our prayers to lead us to a third child, if that was His will for our family.
Once we committed to moving forward with Miss L’s adoption…in faith…I still found myself guarding my heart and doubting it would or could all work out. Humanly speaking, there were a lot of reasons to be cautious and to doubt because no US adoption agency works with her country. I would have to figure out how to do an independent international adoption, so I immersed myself in researching immigration laws and adoption requirements and learning the US definition of orphan. I spent months gathering documents from the other side of the world.
Each potential road block I encountered along the way, He leveled. Every question, He answered. Every dark path, He illuminated. Each time I learned of a new requirement or necessary document, He provided it.
When it became clear that hiring a lawyer who specializes in US orphan immigration law would be a wise idea, he provided a the lawyer who had experience with this country. (No small task seeing as only a handful of adoptions from this country have ever even taken place.)
When it came time to get our visas and book our travel, He worked out the details and put us in touch with people who went above and beyond to help us.
When we were told to expect it to take one full week in-country to get her passport, He provided it the same day we applied for it…within hours.
When it seemed as if we’d be stuck in her country for a few extra days waiting for an open departing flight, He provided just enough seats on the plane to get us out ahead of schedule.
When we were waiting to pick up the results of her US-required medical exam, He provided a group of US adoptive parents in the waiting room who gave us important information on dealing with the US Consul@te.
When we arrived 15 minutes after the office closed to apply for her visa at the US Consulate, He provided kind officers who were more than happy to allow us in anyways.
When we expected to have to wait at least a week for her US visa to be approved because hers was such a unique case, He provided it in one day.
When it appeared like we would miss our flight back to the US due to insanely long and slow security lines, He provided an officer who noticed my tears stress and allowed us to move ahead in line to make our flight.
In more ways than I can list, His fingerprints were all over her adoption and our trip. And yet my faith seemed so small. So filled with doubt and uncertainty. Will it work out? What if they won’t issue her visa? What if we run into snags? What if our trip is longer than expected? What if? What if? What if?
Small faith cringing with each new call to trust and watch Him work.
So when people see our family or hear our story and say, I could never do it, my first thought is: Yes, you could. If God calls you to it, you can do it. I am proof that He doesn’t call only those with no fears, no doubts, and no worries. He doesn’t limit his blessings to only those who have unwavering, bold faith.
He calls and equips and blesses even those with weak faith. His grace covers our doubts. His strength enables us to walk through our fears.
I don’t look at either of our adoption journeys as displays of how strong my faith was or is. I look at them as displays of how strong my God is. It was His power that was on display for all to see. His power at work through a weak and worried woman who had just enough faith to take the next step.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
2 Corinthians 12:9
________________________________________
Stephanie
Stephanie’s 18 years in the classroom as a teacher is nothing compared to teaching three little ones at home full-time. Through their three little girls, God has revealed Himself most clearly to them. He not only worked a miracle in giving them their biological daughter, He continued to show Himself in a mighty way throughout adoption journeys in China and Bhutan that were anything but normal. You can read more about their family on their personal blog We Are Family.
Love Story
Dear Miss A,
I always knew you liked him. I did. I saw it when you smiled at him. I saw it when your eyes lit up when he entered the room and how your first giggle was for him. It has always been there. But, it was too hard for him to see.
From the beginning, you would go to him freely. No fussing. At all. It’s just that you always kept your eyes on me. You’d squawk when I left your sight. You’d squeal when I returned. You kept track of my every move, even while he held or entertained you. And, at first, he was fine with it because it was subtle and everything was new
On the flight home, your fondness for me grew to a definite preference. You only wanted to be by me, on me, with me. The first weeks home were a blur of survival for all of us, and I knew that having you close to me was key in helping you feel safe and secure. We kept your routine predictable, outings to a minimum, and put you in the wrap anytime we went out. It made you feel safe and happy and solidified your bond…with me.
Your preference for me was undeniable, and he began to feel left out. He wanted to bond with you and experience affection instead of rejection. Seeing you reach for me time and time again was hurtful and took its toll. I still saw the way you smiled at him and were excited to see him, but he was beginning to get frustrated. He understood, but it hurt.
However, being who he is, he never gave up. He continued to reach out for you, spend time with you, care for you, be silly with you, comfort you, hold you, bathe you, and feed you…while you reached for me. The smiles and giggles I saw you give him were often overshadowed by your whining for me. But, you are his daughter, and he knew it would come…eventually.
Then, as if someone flipped a switch, things began to change. The whining and reaching for me lessened, making the smiles and giggles you gave him more obvious. You began to run full tilt to the door when he came home from work. You squealed as he “chased” you, urging him to keep doing it. You smiled at him just to get his attention. He noticed and soaked it up.
Over the past month, I’ve had a front row seat to watching the love between you two blossom and grow. My heart swells as I watch you run full speed to greet him at the door. As you lean out of my arms and into his. As you bring him book after book to read to you and then walk backwards until you plop into his lap settling your head against his chest. As you giggle and play peek-a-boo with him in your highchair. As your whole body wiggles in celebration when he comes to pick you up from nursery.
You see, he’s waited a very long time for you to return his affections. He’d have waited indefinitely, but I’m so glad he didn’t have to. I’m so glad you two are forging your own love story through silly rituals and goofy games. I don’t even mind when you prefer him over me.
I always knew you liked him and that the love would come. I’m just so glad that he’s beginning to know now, too.
He’s waited a long time to be your Daddy.
Love,
Mommy
________________________________________
Stephanie
Stephanie has been married to Matthew for over 5 years. She “retired” from teaching after 18 years in the classroom when she had their first child. But, she continues to do a lot of work with school-aged children by teaching science to home-schooled children each week and being involved in children’s ministry in their church. It is through their two children that God has revealed Himself most clearly. He not only worked a miracle in enabling them to have a biological daughter who is 2 ½, He continued to show Himself in a mighty way throughout an adoption journey that was anything but normal. Her days are filled with all things “toddler,” and she loves the blessing of being a stay-at-home-mom. You can read more about their family here.
This Much I Know To Be True
It’s one of Oprah’s catch-phrases. This much I know to be true. Following that phrase, she expounds on some epiphany or conclusion or lesson she has learned.
There are many things I know to be true. In most of those cases, it is because of personal experience or first-hand knowledge.
I know that the bottom of the Dead Sea is very difficult to walk on because of the large salt crystals littering the bottom. (personal experience)
I know that acting uninterested at a David Copperfield show seems to ensure you will be called up on stage to help with an illusion. (personal experience)
I know that the pain of giving yourself fertility injections is nothing compared to the pain of being childless. (personal experience)
But, there are other things I cannot be sure of. I can only imagine how it must feel or be or what I would or would not do, but I don’t know for certain.
I think it would be great to have an awesome singing voice and perform for the masses. But, I don’t really know what that would be like and never will.
I can imagine that losing a parent at a young age would be incredibly painful and difficult. But, having never experienced that I don’t really know how it feels.
I can say that I would never move far away from my family, but I have never had to make that decision and pray I never will.
That’s just it. We don’t REALLY know what it’s like to experience something without really experiencing it ourselves. I can imagine how I hope I would react, what I hope I would think, how I hope I would respond all I want. But, until I walk through it myself, I really have no idea.
I have never been a very scandalous person. No huge public life dramas have played out in my life…until this past summer. We did not complete the adoption of the child we traveled to bring home. Naively, I had no idea just how scandalous this was in the eyes of some in the adoption community. In reading what many other AP’s think about disruption, it seems as if the thinking is either you bring home the child you were referred no matter what, or you are a terrible, selfish person who wishes for that child to never find a family.
I can tell you, without a doubt, that that is not the case. At. All. This much I know to be true.
Our adoption journey was pretty bumpy. But, by far, the hardest things this momma still deals with are the misconceptions people in the adoption community have regarding those who disrupt, and the hurtful comments said about “those parents.”
The sadness and shock we felt when the serious undisclosed needs became apparent was hard, but we had lots of supportive people walking us through the confusion. Discovering that we were not the best family for the child we thought was ours was hard, but we had peace about the decision, knowing it was the best for that child and us. We were simply not equipped to handle that child’s needs and knew that there would be a family out there who could meet those needs and meet them well. Facing the reality of not coming home with a child, the child who we had attached to at some level through video and pictures, after almost 4 years of being in the process was hard. But, with the peace we had in our decision, we knew that if that’s what it came down to, it would be okay. Our family, our friends, our church lifted us up in prayer; listened to us as we processed through everything that was happening; and supported the difficult decision we had to make.
However, the comments about disruption I read upon returning home, and still stumble upon as I scan adoption boards, pierce my heart and rattle me for days. I sit stunned at the broad paintbrush often used to paint all parents who go through this as cold, heartless, uneducated, and unprepared, only thinking of themselves with no thought or caring for what happens to the child. It just is not that simple. It is not like that.
The comments seem to center around the same logic: EITHER you are on the side of the child, OR you disrupt. EITHER you parent a child who you know is not a good fit for your family, OR you are declaring that that child unworthy of having a family.
This much I know to be true; it’s not an either/or type of situation.
From the outside, it is not possible to know ALL the details of a disruption, to know all the reasons a family felt ill-prepared to meet a particular child’s needs. Those details are extremely personal and private for both the child and family. Absolutely, the AP’s want the child they are unable to parent to find a home, the right home. It’s the same thing we all want for all the kids on those lists. We want homes for all of them. But, as AP’s we have to make decisions along the way in a special needs adoption as to what needs we feel called to and prepared to handle. Some of those reasons are personal preferences, but some have to do with very practical things such as insurance, availability of services, etc. AP’s who decide they cannot parent the child they were referred do so with the family’s and child’s best interests at heart.
Since returning home 6 months ago, I have been in contact with other AP’s who have also gone through the pain of a disruption. And, there are certain common denominators that have been true in each of those situations. This much I know to be true:
- The parents hurt and grieve over the loss of the child. In all cases, parents have prepared a room and bed and clothing for the child. They have lined up medical treatment and doctors. They have prepared the other children in their families for this brother or sister. They have packed, planned, and prayed for this child. In most cases, the parents have named the child. In all cases, the parents fully intended on bringing home that child.
- The parents want the child they are unable to parent to find the right family. They pray for them. Often times, they actively advocate for them. And sometimes they even offer monetary donations to help the child receive treatment and/or diagnostic testing while that child waits for a family.
- The parents have grief and confusion and heartache and disappointment that they need to process through.
- Parents who are offered another referral while in country (and this is becoming more rare due to Hague regulations) did not travel intending to “switch” or “upgrade”. Many times, it is implied that AP’s who come home with a different child had some “master plan” to get a better/younger/healthier/cuter child. When in most (if not all) cases, the decision is made to not complete the adoption well before the option of receiving another referral is even presented. It is not a situation of “would you rather have this child instead?”
- The parents receive a lot of negative comments on forums and on their blogs from some in the adoption community and, as a result, feel isolated, judged, and shut out. Online forums can be a blessing for all the sharing of information and personal experiences that help to educate families about adoption. However, the relative anonymity also makes it too easy for some to say hurtful and judgmental comments aimed at parents who decided they could not complete the adoption of the child they had traveled for. Most of these comments offer support and compassion for the child in a way that is critical of the AP’s.
So, to those who have said my husband and I were not prepared as adoptive parents, you are right. We were not prepared in many ways.
We were not prepared to meet a child whose needs were far beyond what were presented and what we were equipped or approved for.
We were not prepared to learn that the medical files we reviewed had not disclosed the other serious medical needs the child had that were not related to the main SN.
We were not prepared to leave behind the child whose picture we proudly shared with family and friends.
We were not prepared to find the child who IS our daughter in such a crazy and confusing way.
We were not prepared to feel God’s presence so clearly throughout the entire process.
We were not prepared to be given such a sense of clarity and peace about the decisions we felt led to make.
We were not prepared for the outpouring of love, support, and understanding we received from our friends, family, and church family.
We were not prepared to feel so alone, isolated, and criticized by members of the adoption community in cyber-land.
And, we certainly were not prepared to be judged so harshly by an adoption community that had previously been such a source of support for us.
I do hope that this experience of having my personal adoption decisions judged so harshly by others has taught me to stop doing the same to people in other circumstances. I am reminded that in any given situation, it’s not as simple as either/or, because, this much I know to be true…
There, but for the grace of God, go I.
I never thought we would disrupt. Never. It wasn’t on the radar. It wasn’t in our vocabulary. At. All. Not even a little bit. We were bringing our child home no. matter. what. Except that she wasn’t our child. We knew that without a doubt. There has never been a doubt about any of it at all. No second guessing. Just hurt. Hurt for what had to happen, and hurt for the stigma that seems to cloud over us within the adoption community. Miraculously, we came home with our child, and the child-who-was-not-ours has found a family as well. Her family.
We couldn’t be more thrilled.
This much I know to be true.
________________________________________
Stephanie
Stephanie has been married to Matthew for over 5 years. She “retired” from teaching after 18 years in the classroom when she had their first child. But, she continues to do a lot of work with school-aged children by teaching science to home-schooled children each week and being involved in children’s ministry in their church. It is through their two children that God has revealed Himself most clearly. He not only worked a miracle in enabling them to have a biological daughter who is 2 ½, He continued to show Himself in a mighty way throughout an adoption journey that was anything but normal. Her days are filled with all things “toddler,” and she loves the blessing of being a stay-at-home-mom. You can read more about their family here.
With Thankfulness: Thankful for the Bumps
Miss E likes to play “Bumpy Road” with me. She sits on my knees while I bounce her and chant, “Bumpy road, bumpy road. Smooth road, smooth road. Bumpy road, bumpy road. Ditch!” And, on the word ditch, I drop her through my knees. Simple fun.
When I think back over this past year — a year that has been largely focused on our recent adoption — it reminds me of that simple game I play with Miss E: Bumpy Road.
Preparations, planning, waiting, traveling, meeting our daughter, adjusting, etc. For someone who doesn’t like transitions, I’d say we’ve done pretty well. We have settled into our new normal as a family of four. But, as I look back on all that the past year held for our family, I am not only grateful for everything that went well (smooth road). I am also thankful for everything that didn’t (bumpy road/ditch).
No, I’m not an overly-positive person who goes with the flow with every hiccup that comes our way. Quite the opposite, in fact. What I mean is that had it not been for all of the bumps along the road to adopting our daughter, we would never have met our daughter.
About a year ago, we found a girl on an agency list and requested her information. Since it was very outdated, we requested updates before committing. Those updates took about a month to receive. Bump.
Once we sent in our letter of intent to adopt her, we needed to transfer to the new agency. What should have taken a few weeks took MUCH longer. We watched as families “passed us up” in the process. Bump. Bump.
Once the transfer finally happened, our agency assured us that our letter of acceptance from China would be fast in coming. You see, we were I-600, under the old rules, which meant we would be meeting our girl soon. Wrong. Weeks and weeks passed. The agency while in China on official adoption business actually resorted to asking the office that handles adoptions in person for an update on our case. They found our paperwork buried under mounds of other paperwork which meant more waiting. Bump.
Once our letter of acceptance came, we just had to wait for our travel approval to be on our way. Hooray! Well, after another longer-than-usual-wait, it came. We were able to secure a consulate appointment and book flights to leave the very next week. That is, until we learned it was the Dragon Boat Festival. Because of that festival, the civil affairs offices would be closed, so our travel plans had to be cancelled. Bump. Bump.
After much begging and pleading by our agency on behalf of our family, we were given a consulate appointment for the following week, and we were on our way. Finally. It was time to meet our daughter.
The moment we met her, however, our dreams came crashing down. It became clear to us that she had very severe needs. Needs that we were not prepared to handle. We were not the best parents for her. And after 3 emotional, stressful days and 2 sleepless nights, we had to say goodbye to the girl we thought would become our daughter. We were prepared to end our dreams of adding to our family through adoption. We were prepared to come home without a child. We were broken and bewildered and hurting and questioning everything. Bump. Bump. Thud.
Our agency asked if we would consider adopting another child. We said we didn’t think so. They asked us to think about it. Pray about it. And, they asked if they could lock a child for us on the Shared List. The New Shared List. The Shared List that was coming out that very night. That very night.
When our agency emailed a girl’s file to us, we didn’t even open it for a while. How could we? What is this whole trip about? Why did this happen? Why all the roadblocks and delays and headaches and bumps? Did God call us this far to quit? To go home without a child? Or did God call us to China for this little girl whose file sits unopened in our computer inbox?
And so, we nervously opened the file and saw the face of the girl who made it all make sense. It was all for her.
Had everything happened without a bump, had our paperwork transferred flawlessly, our letter of acceptance been issued in a timely manner, our travel plans fallen into place without delay we would have missed our daughter. She would have been locked by another family and would still be waiting in her orphanage for a family to come and pick her up…a thought I cannot bear to think because she is OUR daughter. She was meant FOR US. The bumpy road was the only road that could have brought us to her at just the right time.
And for her…for her, I would go through it all again. I would endure the heartache and disappointment. I would endure the doubt and shame cast on us by others. I would endure the uncertainty of God’s mysterious will. For her. Our daughter.
Only God could orchestrate all the events perfectly to make our family whole. Only He could give us peace in the decisions we needed to make. Only He could bring comfort and healing to broken hearts. Only He could offer His presence throughout each bump in the road.
For the struggle, for my daughter, for my God…I am thankful.
(Note: In answer to our prayers, the girl we did not bring home has found her family, for which we are forever grateful.)
________________________________________
Stephanie
Stephanie has been married to Matthew for over 5 years. She “retired” from teaching after 18 years in the classroom when she had their first child. But, she continues to do a lot of work with school-aged children by teaching science to home-schooled children each week and being involved in children’s ministry in their church. It is through their two children that God has revealed Himself most clearly. He not only worked a miracle in enabling them to have a biological daughter who is 2 ½, He continued to show Himself in a mighty way throughout an adoption journey that was anything but normal. Her days are filled with all things “toddler,” and she loves the blessing of being a stay-at-home-mom. You can read more about their family here.
Did They Ever Notice?
Miss A has been with us for about 4 months now. As time goes on, as I watch her playing and interacting, I find myself wondering, did they ever notice?
I mean, she spent 7.5 months in an orphanage being cared for by nannies. It was, as far as I can tell, a really good orphanage. We visited it and got a tour, and it was lovely–for an orphanage. It was clean and bright, and the directors and nannies were cheerful and welcoming and friendly. But, it was still an orphanage. She was still cared for by nannies. And that makes me wonder, did they ever notice?
Miss A likes to feel a blanket or burp cloth with her fingers as she drinks her bottle. Propped up in the crook of my leg so we can see each other face to face, her hands are in constant motion. Seeking out and then rubbing and feeling the piece of cloth. Did they ever notice this?
As her eyelids get droopier and droopier drinking her bottle, she will usually begin lifting the cloth to her face. Covering her eyes, then dropping it down, then bring it back up to her face. She will grab a corner and rub the side of her face as her eyelids close. Did they ever notice?
Should she finish the bottle before drifting off to sleep, she has been known to almost nibble on the fuzzy side of her blankie to fall asleep. Did they ever notice? And, if so, did they ever give her a soft cloth to feel as she drank her bottle?
We first noticed this in China. She would hold her shirt or my shirt as she drank her bottle. Then she would grab her bib or burpcloth. So, when we came home, I got out a blankie square with a silky side and a furry side. She loves it. Peeking in at her at night we will find her laying on it like a pillow. And, it sometimes makes me sad. Sad because I wonder what she did at night when she was (presumably) all alone in her bed with nothing to grasp or cuddle or snuggle.
In all likelihood, given what I know about orphanages, given that the nannies (caring though they be) are taking care of many children at a time, I know that they probably didn’t notice this quirk of Miss A. They didn’t have time to notice. They couldn’t notice.
Instead they had to focus on taking care of each child’s basic needs. Feeding, changing diapers, and sleeping. Straight forward caretaking. Judging from Miss A, they seem to have done a fantastic job of caring for her basic needs while in the orphanage. On Gotcha Day she was a well-fed, healthy, happy, clean, chubby cleft baby who had already been given her first surgery. Her basic needs were well met.
But, just getting your basic needs met isn’t what we were designed for. God created us to know Him and to be intimately known. And He sets the example for us–He knows His children intimately. He knows how many hairs we have on our head. He knows our deepest fears and struggles. He knows our gifts and talents. He knows what makes us laugh. He knows how we laugh. He knows our heart and soul and mind and spirit, for He created us. He notices it all.
There is so much more to be had than to just have your basic needs met. So, God places children in families with parents who, if they are intent on doing it, will know those children intimately. Through relationships and time and noticing we get to know one another intimately. Think of your closest friends, your spouses, your family. What makes those relationships so valuable is that each of those people knows you intimately. They can “read you like a book.” They know your quirks and your looks and your fears and your joys. And, isn’t that a comfort–to be known intimately?
This is what has brought me so much joy from being a mother. To spend every day with my daughters has given me the opportunity to know my girls intimately. Knowing that Miss E will probably need extra reassurance when she hears a loud car go roaring down our street. Knowing that Miss A likes to crawl around with a block in each hand. Noticing and knowing the little things, the looks, the cries, the giggles, the quirks. I love knowing–really knowing–my girls.
So, as I watch Miss A, as I study her expressions and movements and quirks, it makes me sad to realize that they probably couldn’t notice them. She had great basic care for the first 7.5 months of her life. And, for that, I am forever grateful. But, she didn’t have the care of a Mommy and Daddy. She didn’t have someone who took notice of how much she liked soft blankies and, in turn, made them available to her. She didn’t have someone who knew her intimately.
Now, she does.
________________________________________
Stephanie
Stephanie has been married to Matthew for over 5 years. She “retired” from teaching after 18 years in the classroom when she had their first child. But, she continues to do a lot of work with school-aged children by teaching science to home-schooled children each week and being involved in children’s ministry in their church. It is through their two children that God has revealed Himself most clearly. He not only worked a miracle in enabling them to have a biological daughter who is 2 ½, He continued to show Himself in a mighty way throughout an adoption journey that was anything but normal. Her days are filled with all things “toddler,” and she loves the blessing of being a stay-at-home-mom. You can read more about their family here.
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