Come Rain or Shine

Our family is currently resting in that uncomfortable spot known as "waiting for orders". Now, waiting for orders is never pleasant, but it is even worse when you don't know where in the world, literally, your orders will take you. This is particularly painful for Type A planners, like yours truly. But, alas, we are at the whim of Uncle Sam, so fussing is pretty much futile. Hopefully, in April, we will know where we head this summer, and then I can begin the planning that I must confess, I do love. Until then, we are in a holding pattern...sigh.

Our efforts to adopt again are pretty much on hold as we wait, too. We are reluctant to move forward until we know what the future holds for our family. We have mulled over so many possibilities in the past few weeks, but until we know a destination, we wait.

As we are watching a number of families adopt from the DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo), we are reminded that adoption is a waiting game, too. There are so many starts and stops. Last week, we were at the starting blocks ready to go! Then we had a conference call with the adoption facilitator, and learned that they are becoming an agency because independent adoptions (which we were hoping to pursue) are no longer being allowed as of 2014. Becoming an agency doesn't change any thing per se, but the price increased and the time to complete an adoption in the DRC recently increased. So, again, we step back and re-group a bit.

As we continue to wait and watch at the sidelines, I am intrigued by the families I watch adopt for the first time. I am reminded how naive we were...and likely still are in some ways. I am currently reading a new adoption book entitled, "Come Rain or Come Shine" by Rachel Garlinghouse. What I love about the book is that it is written by a mom--a white parent, who has three black children, and it is tagged "A White Parent's Guide to Adopting and Parenting Black Children." Unlike so many other "experts"on adoption and most of the "authorities" on adoption during our own adoption, who often don't even have adopted or biological children, she is the real deal. She has been there, done that!



Wright Clan at Epcot

First of, she makes me feels like I am not crazy/paranoid. I am not. Really. :-) In the Prologue, she says, "We weren't the couple in the room with the darling newborn--swaddled in a pink blanket--sleeping in her stroller. We were the couple with the brown-skinned, afro-headed, coffee-colored-eyes, darling newborn. The reality is that despite popular pronouncements, the world is not colorblind, prejudice didn't evaporate after the civil rights movement, and being White still comes with many privileges that brown-skinned individuals do not have." She continues to say, "Particularly in the case of transracial adoption, adoptive parents will face scrutiny from both individuals of their own race and of the child's race." Amen! Not amen that this is true, but amen that we are not just imagining this. As Bren became ours, we literally watched as some people distanced themselves from us, some of them college-educated, Christian folks--people we thought were just like us. This is one reason that even as much as we love our life here, we are eager to move to a place where no one ever knew us before Bren was our son. In theory, we will not watch any one drift away and wonder what happened. What you see is what you get.

One wonderful aspect of the military is diversity. I would be remiss if I did not acknowlege the MANY others that wholeheartedly embrace our family and support us. For the most part, people in our lives are extremely open-minded, tolerant to differenes and amazingly supportive. Over Spring Break, we spent some time out and about at various Disney Parks, and we definitely saw some of the ugliness that does still persist in our society, and not just from Americans. At this point it is mostly judging, negative looks. I can tell you without doubt that if you put our adorable 4-year-old son next to any white 4-year-old, most adults will be drawn to the white child. It breaks my heart. As he grows older, it will not improve unless we change our perception of different races, particularly blacks and espcially black males.



Cole Patrick, Aidan and Brendan's Jam Session

As I read further in her book I found a checklist: "You might be a good candidate for transracial adoption if..." followed by several situations. The one that most piqued my interest: "You intend to adopt more than one minority child." Ah, validation! So, I no longer feel so guilty that my primary reason to adopt again is for Brendan to have a sibling that isn't fair-skinned, fair-haired and light-eyed. For some reason, I felt like that was a poor reason to adopt--like getting Bren a puppy. Apparently, that is okay (not the puppy, the sibling! ;-). Not that I am not eager to have one more loud child running through my house, jumping off the furniture and bickering about being touched by another one of the loud children...I am (not). ;-) Really, at the heart of my pull to adopt again is Bren. While I can point out all the ways we match: two eyes, a nose, two legs, a heart, ears, etc. I know a day will come where our ONE difference hurts like hell for him. If adopting a sibling will ease that, I'm in.

I pray that families like ours make a difference in the way races see each other. I hope that we touch lives and continue to evolve in our relatively new position as a transracial family. Soon we will know where we are headed, and we can start again, in so many ways. Only God knows what our future holds. What ever it may be, we plan to embrace it, come rain or shine.





Heart for Adoption

Heart for adoption...I hear people say it all the time, especially, "I don't have a heart for adoption." Well, truth be told, I don't have a heart for adoption. I don't. God called me to adopt. He called me and called me until he carried me when I didn't even know he was carrying me. It is only looking back that I see clearly and know how truly divine our journey was.

In the past year+, I have learned a tremendous amount about myself. I faced darkness I had not known; I found holes where I had thought I was whole. Like "they" say though (whoever they are), that which does not kill you, really does make you stronger. I am definitely stronger than I was before adoption. In the end (er, not really the end I guess), I am not the mom I thought I was. I am not the person I thought I was. We are not the family we were two years ago.

Daddy and Bren's first meeting

I am not close to saintly: I lose my patience, I yell, I judge, I am awkwardly and imperfectly human to the core; I am a sinner, plain and simple. What I do have is a defining sense of right and wrong. My world is often black and white, and often it is that clear to me. There are children in this world not only without families but also without food, shelter, medicine, safety and LOVE. My psyche and I have already had this argument; Jason and I have already had this discussion: we've adopted; we have Bren; we did "our part." Right?

Had I not taken baby steps each time God pushed me closer to His plan the first time around, we probably never would have adopted. Jason never felt particularly "called to adopt", but unlike me, Jason has an undeniable heart for adoption. His love didn't have to grow. He didn't question our journey on a daily basis, as I did. His heart didn't struggle and struggle...and struggle. He is my rock; he is Bren's rock. He is the one who held it together and unconditionally loved while my heart grew to adoption.

It is no surprise that six months ago when I first mentioned I felt the tug to adopt again, Jason looked at me like I had two heads. For a number of reasons, I put it on the back burner. Like the first time we adopted, the feeling does not subside. While the noise of our every day family life can keep it a bay for a while, one thing I know is that when God has a plan for me, He will persist louder than my worries...he will mold my heart to His plan. 

Despite not having a heart for adoption, I have a heart for God's work, for the greater good, for the need to be a part of something much bigger than me. I know there are millions of children out there who need a daddy with Jason's heart and a mama who God is growing each day. I know despite our worries about money, school, family, job, etc., etc., and our human imperfections, that we are truly blessed beyond measure. As long as we can keep giving back, it just seems like the right thing to do.