Third Trimester

It’s getting real.  Adoption is such a lengthy process, with more paperwork than a mortgage.  In the swirl of life, it is easy to submit to the process without dwelling on the reality that a new little one will be in your family soon, and forever.  Physical pregnancy doesn’t allow you the same luxury.  By the time you are ready to deliver, you are so large and so uncomfortable that you can’t ignore it – and neither can anyone else.  Bags are packed, nurseries painted, people congratulate you wherever you go. 

Paper pregnancy –adoption - doesn’t have any of these outward markers.  I have had fun lately telling people, “I’m due in the Spring…..(I pause to let them ponder if I should be having a baby at my age, and where am I hiding it, or perhaps I am mentally ill)….with a 5 year old.”  I allow a moment to process, and then I show them a picture of Dominic. 

Most people are congratulatory.  I’m sure I have friends, even family, and surely acquaintances, who think I’m insane, but they know me well enough to keep it to themselves.  Thank you for that. 

One huge difference between biological birth and adoption is that when a baby is born to his family biologically, the perspective is that the family “gets a new baby.”  It is a one- way street.  The infant is not really getting something new, because from the first cell-division in the womb, that child was right where he belonged. 

(The irony is that this is how all babies are born.  Right where they belong. Ben and Evan were born this way. Dominic was born this way.  Then, because the world is often a cruel, cruel place, this birth-right- their first family- is taken away from them.)

 In adoption, it is a two-way street.  As a parent, I am getting a new son, and Ben and Evan are getting a new brother.  This comes with joy, excitement, anticipation and nerves!  But we are not the only ones with huge changes coming.  Dominic is getting a new family, a new language, and a new home!  He will be leaving the only ‘family’ he has ever known, and people who love him.  Dominic is coming from a place where he has been well cared for, and he is old enough to have developed strong emotional ties.  This really makes me worried about his little heart.  I know he will grieve, and it will be hard. Even though he wants a Mama, I know he cannot fathom how far this will take him from the people he has been with all of his life.  It makes me feel guilty in a way, but I know that in the big picture, Dominic belongs in a family.  He now belongs in our family.

Dominic’s future will be brighter here than it could ever be in China as a blind orphan.  Here, he will have the same chance as other children to receive a useful education.  He will be able to follow his dreams.  Here, he will have a Mama who will love him forever, and brothers to look up to and lean on when times are tough.  In China, as long as he is at Bethel, he would be loved and well cared for.  I know this.  But in China, things are never certain, especially for orphans. 

It is not unheard of for children to be arbitrarily called back from their home provinces, back to the local orphanages, and have to leave wonderful places like Bethel.  Recently, I saw a posting about a 7 year old blind boy who had been sent to Bethel from his city orphanage.  At 7, he could not sit up unassisted.  Think about that.  This was not because of a physical disability. This was pure neglect.  In a few short months at Bethel, he was not only sitting, but he was walking with braces and assistance.

 And then, his province called him back. Why?  You don’t ask Why in China. 

 It reminds me of a tragic version of Plato’s Allegory of the Shadows.  Only this is real.  Very real.  This boy haunts me.  Is he laying neglected now, after being touched, loved, and cared for?  Will his newly found muscles atrophy?  How will he process this loss, and what will it do to his hope for survival??

Some days, I almost cannot bear to know what I know. 

Although I know Dominic will grieve, I know that this family we are giving him – imperfect though we are – is where he belongs.  I can’t wait to hold my little guy.  I can’t wait to give him this beautiful life with his brothers.  I know this will be a huge adjustment, but not just for us. In childbirth, the mother carries the pain.  If she chooses, there are anesthetics.   In adoption, your child shares in the pain and anguish of delivery. “Delivery” begins the minute you meet your child.  It can last for days, weeks, months or years.  Ben’s transition was short and easy.  Evan had a lot of pain, and still struggles.  I pray that Dominic will have an easy ‘delivery’.  In adoption, there are no epidurals to block the pain.   In adoption, the only medicine is love and time. 

Seated, is my Dominic.  Ready or not, Mommy is coming soon.  

Walking, is the child I wrote about above. He is advocated for as Mark.  This was taken at Bethel, before he was sent back.  They have not received an update about him since then.   When you see their faces, they become real. Mark needs a Mama.  Many, many children need the love of a family.  If you have questions about adoption, please feel free to send me a message. Do you have room for one more? 

That Explains it...

Do you want to know what I did last night?  After my sons fell asleep?  I stayed up later than I should have and I watched them sleep.   Our days have been so hurried. We have recently moved, and everything has changed.  It’s just dawning on all of us that this isn’t some crazy extended summer. 

So, I sat and I watched them breathe. Their faces were relaxed, hardly an eyelash fluttered.   I said a silent prayer of thanks that they are mine.  As an adoptive Mom, that joy is never completely separate from another woman’s heartache.  It is a hard place to stand.

Evan is 9 now, and Ben 13.  For a brief, unbearable moment, I wondered what would have happened to them if they hadn’t come home.  If I had not chosen them, would they still be orphans?  The future of an orphan is bleak.  Medical care and education is minimal.

 Would Ben still be the happy go-lucky kid he is, or would his sweetness  have made him the perfect prey for larger, rougher children?

 And Evan… my sweet Evan…  Evan came to me tough-as-nails at six years old.  Six year-olds in the States hover between baby and student, still clinging to their mothers.   Evan’s crash would have been inevitable and very, very unpleasant. 

These are my children.  They were mine the day I said, “Yes, I want to adopt them.”  The idea that Ben spent any time alone, wrapped in a blanket at 7 days old, waiting to be discovered, horrifies me.  I cannot imagine how scared Evan must have been at three when he was left alone outside of a city building.  If your child has ever been missing for a minute in a store, or come home later than expected, you know the feeling of panic that ensues. That’s how I feel when I think of those moments when anything could have happened to them.    

As an adoptive parent, I know that there are hundreds of thousands of children just like my sons, who were left alone.  I can never Un-know that.  It is overwhelming to know that.  This is one of the reasons I am adopting again.  

I love being Mom, and I think – most days – I am pretty good at it.  I have worn many hats in my life, but being Mommy was my most fervent wish.  It has lived up to my dreams, and then some.  I know not everyone is called to parent, but for me it is heaven even when it is hard.  There is nothing I have done in my life that brings the same satisfaction.  I am adopting again because it is the finest thing I can do with the days and hours I have on this Earth.

Finally, there is this boy – we have named him Dominic. I knew in my heart that he was my son from the first time I saw his picture.    He is 4, about to be 5, and does not know I exist, yet.  He doesn’t know he has two brothers waiting for him.

 He does know that there is a such thing as Mommies.  He knows that sometimes his friends disappear suddenly to go “home” with them forever.  He has asked when his Mommy will come.   Even though he seems happy in his institution, he knows he doesn’t belong there forever.  He knows children get “chosen” by families.  He wonders when his turn will come.  I can’t wait for the day that I can make this dream come true for him.  

 

So, yes, I am adopting again.  Perhaps I am a little crazy, but in a good way.  I know some people don’t understand.  That’s ok.  Yes, I know I can’t adopt them all.  But I can adopt this little boy.   I can’t wait to wrap my arms around my new son.  I can’t wait until Dominic knows, “Today is the day MY MOMMY is coming.”  This is what I live for.