This is a hard post, so bear with me. I’m not one to show/write about a lot of emotionally charged things, but this has been weighing on my heart and now, it is time that I get it out.
What a great example of how much God loves us, in that when we ask Him to be our personal Savior, He adopts us into His family.
Jesus was adopted.
I am adopted.
I am blessed.
It is hard.
It leads you down a path of emotions that are hard to explain to people who have not adopted.
My children…I love them more than words can express.
I have loved my children even before they were a sparkle in my eye. Before I saw a picture, I was in love of the idea of bringing children into my home through adoption.
What I didn’t think about….was the intense loss that my children’s birth families experienced by choosing to give my children life, not once, but twice. Once through physical birth and once through the beauty and sacrifice of adoption.
I stood next to my children’s birth mom as she said “yes, I relinquish my rights to my children; yes, I consent to let this family raise the children that grew inside me and I tried to love to the best of my ability.”
In receiving this blessing and fulfilling my dream of adoption, this act was made while her heart was breaking. She knew that she would not see her children again for many many years. Yet, she said yes. My joy came in the face of extreme sadness and pain.
Often, people ask me why I “tolerate” her phone calls or take her pictures. It is hard to explain. I am saddened by her choices and the reasons why my children needed to be adopted. On the other hand, she gave my children life. If it weren’t for her, they would not exist. I “tolerate” her because I love her, as the Lord does.
Does it sometimes get old answering the same questions over and over? Yes, it does. Does it get old to God when I ask for the same things over and over? Yes, it does. But He still answers me. He still loves me enough to be patient and kind with me. I may be the only Jesus that my birth kids mom sees….though I fail so many times.
I remind my kids over and over that she loved them the best she could and she made the ultimate sacrifice to allow me to raise them. We don’t hide who she is, we don’t keep anything a secret, we don’t tuck pictures away….it is what it is.
There are days when I want to take the children to see her, but I can’t because, right now, it isn’t a safe choice. But I can go and see her. I can take updated pictures to her. I can walk the walk and talk the talk.
On the other end of the spectrum is my son’s mom. I’m sure her heart was broken in half when she put that three year old baby on the bus to send him off to a life that is unknown. It was send him into the unknown or watch him slowly die.
My joy came from tragedy, malnutrition, pain, loss, grief, and intense love. As my dreams became reality, this mama was losing her baby.
There are no words to describe the vision of seeing her face. To watch her talk, to get the answers to many questions, to hear her praise song for our family, to see the thankfulness that her son will have a life that she could not provide for him. There are no words to see her see a picture of her son for the first time in almost three years….the tears of relief, sadness, love….they flowed freely…through those tears..she was raising her hands to the Lord giving thanks to him for allowing her son to be okay and to be loved and taken care of.
She saw our face, our children’s face, she knows that her son was adopted and IS loved. I may never see her this side of heaven, but we will see her on the other side of heaven. I get to hug her neck and tell her how thankful I am to her and to her sacrifice. I get to tell her that I love her, that he loves her. That she was not forgotten or swept under the rug. I get to wash her feet. The thought humbles me.
As excited as people are to “get their referrals” (as I was)….remember with each referral is loss and pain. Pray for these birth families.
Here are a few pictures for you to SEE the beautiful women that gave my children life and whom I pray for daily.