Two years ago...

On October 18, 2011, we met our youngest son. On November 5, 2011, he came to permanently live with us. As we are marking our time together, and as next week begins National Adoption Month, I have been reflecting on our journey--the good, the bad and the ugly.

The first picture we receive of Brendan at disclosure

One of the reasons I write this blog is to be completely honest about my adoption experience. I can honestly say, adoption really isn't THAT much different than parenthood...it is HARD. It isn't rainbows and ponies. It is consistent, repetitive, HARD work--just like parenting bio children. Early on in this journey, I adopted the motto, "We can do hard things." Simple, to the point...we can. There were days that these five words alone carried my faith that this day would come.

I have always been honest about my adoption struggles. Jason never struggled; Aidan never struggled; Cole Patrick and I...we struggled enough for the whole family! On my darkest days, I believed I had failed everyone--that Brendan would be better off with another family. I struggled significantly with attachment, which as a Mom, is, honestly, just pure hell. There was a time--a long time--where Cole Patrick completely rejected Bren, and I agonized over why God had brought us here.

Race relations was just another layer to our new, complex lives. I often cursed the fact that there was no privacy to the fact that Bren was adopted. Every one knew--I imagined people's judgment when he acted out in public. I  was embarrassed by the staring when I went to the store...or pretty much anywhere in public. Some people had obvious judgment, others gave me smiles of pity. I hated both the judgment and the "pity"...I still do, but either I see less of it, or I am just no longer so sensitive. I think it is probably both--I think Colorado is actually a more tolerant area than Florida was, and I have also learned to proudly "own" my family's new identity.

This morning--I watched as Cole Patrick woke Brendan up by laying on top of him and giggling together. There was a time that Cole would not even touch Brendan. We have come so far. By the grace of God, so far.



Bren with Preschool Homework. So proud!

Today, I cannot even believe the difference. Bren is a different boy than the defiant little guy that came to live with us two years ago--he is just amazing! He is so smart--he can definitely intellectually hang with Aidan and Cole Patrick, which honestly was my only request during home study beyond keeping birth order in tact. He is sweet, loving, funny and I am so proud of him--so proud of what our family has experienced--and it is just the beginning.

Yesterday I had Bren's first parent-teacher conference at school. I heard a lot of "Brendan is the only one that can do this...Brendan is the only one that understands that..." Then his teacher said, "I love how he tells his friends, 'We can do hard things' when there is a challenge." :-) That's my boy!

 I don't think our story is remarkable or too different than others who have chosen this path, but it has changed my world in ways I never imagined. I do pray that someone who has watched our journey is inspired. Adoption is beyond amazing, it really is. There are so many children who just want a family. Time and love--that is all it really takes--just like parenting bio children. Honestly.

Adoption Loss, or my attempts to keep Bren "normal"

Gosh, time sure got away from me, I will blame it on a PCS quickly followed by a deployment: brutal. Any way, we are settling in Colorado, and Jason is settling in Afghanistan, and it is as awesome as deployments can be, which means I have kept three kids, two dogs and a kitty alive for over a week—yes, don’t mind me while I pat myself on the back!

I don’t know if it is the deployment, starting preschool, just his age or most likely a combination of all three, but Brendan is becoming more fully aware of what it means to be adopted. He is aware that he is “chocolate” and that we are “white chocolate”, and he is aware that he came from a chocolate Mommy. We have always had an open approach to the subject of adoption—being subtle really was never an option with our color extremes.

I am currently reading Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew, and I’ll be honest the book scares the heck out of me—quite frankly, it should come with some kind of disclaimer. This is one of THE books in the adoptive world, so I feel kind of obligated to read it…like maybe there’s going to be a quiz later. A large premise of the book is that children have to grieve the loss of their birth parents…or they may grow up to be angry time bombs who “steal, set fires and destroy property” and then turn violent. Okay, I am not sure I am totally buying all of this, but like I said, this scares the heck out of me, so I’d like to stay on the right side of this one, so let’s start grieving!

Since the day Jason deployed we have had behavior problems in preschool. I suspect part of it is he is reacting to someone leaving him, and he doesn’t know how to process it. He is strong-willed and wants to control; I don’t really blame him. So, the other day, I decided to sit him down and have the adoption talk with him. I explained to him that sometimes mommies and daddies can’t take care of their babies—either they don’t have the ability or the resources. Maybe they don’t have food or even a house. When that happens, God calls in his “Plan B” mommies and daddies. I don’t know that he understood. His immediate response was, “We have a refrigerator AND a pantry! And we had one in Florida, too!” He also tells me, “Before I was Brendan Michael Wright, I was Brendan Michael Foster,” and I realize that all along when we have talked about the foster family, he thought it was the Foster Family! I had to laugh…I say no, you weren’t even Brendan Michael. “What was my name?” he asked. I paused, “I’ll tell you all about it when you are a little older.” I don’t have the heart to tell the little guy he was named after our worst president ever—Thank God we saved him. J

In all sincerity, I do totally buy into the loss. Absolutely. His is a loss greater than any I have known—we will face it, and I will do everything needed to help him through it and know he is loved and wanted. I don’t necessarily believe, according to this book, that everyone who is adopted feels this huge hole and uncontrollable anger toward the adoptive parents at some point. The book seems to focus on trying to fill a void that makes adoptees not feel normal. Seriously, my biological kids aren't normal...wait, we may be on to something...Seriously, I am not overly concerned, although this book may give me nightmares. Brendan appears really well-adjusted; he REALLY likes attention—I think he actually enjoys being the different one in the family—the special one.

Yesterday we were in the car talking about how when I was pregnant with Aidan she was a constant kicker, so we named her Aidan, which means “fiery one”. Bren said, “I am sad because I was never in your belly.” I don’t know that he is really sad and ready to grieve, but I am trying really hard to let him talk out any feelings he has about adoption (you know, so he doesn’t grow up to be a violent criminal…). I went on to explain to him that we chose “Brendan” for him because it means “brave.” He is, and he will need to be.