When my oldest two came home from Ethiopia, I had no idea what to expect. I mean, I read the books. I talked to other adoptive families. I prepared for disaster (to be more specific, I prepared for murder). When people asked what they could do to help, I had no idea what to say. I didn't know what our needs would be. It took time to figure out how my family could be served. It took time to realize that my family needed to be served. It took time to feel okay with the idea of being served.
I was very lucky. I had amazing friends that held my hand through it all. When I needed help, they listened and acted. I had very supportive parents that were willing to drive seven hours one way to come to our aid. I had a very dear church that walked us through. These people are why I'm still standing and why this family is still going strong. The impact they've had on our lives is on my mind daily. What they did for me was nothing short of miraculous.
Now that so many of these people are thousands of miles away, I find myself thinking of the things that I'm lacking and it scares me a little. I decided that what's missing is an honest look at my needs and an understanding of where I need help. If you're in the process of adoption, this might be something to think about. If you're wanting to walk along side a family that is adopting an older child, maybe you can get some ideas here.
1. Food. Bringing food is the first thing people think of when a child is welcomed into a family and it's important for adoptive families too. Having a meal loving prepared for you makes life so much easier, but it also says "I care". Having food brought to me didn't just make life easier for me, it helped me to see that I wasn't alone and I had people I could count on. For my children (especially the one's that were new to our family), it helped them to see that they had a community. Many of our children come from cultures that support one another heavily. Making food for one another is a regular thing. My kids often comment how disconnected American society is. Having people bring us food gives them that feeling of community (or safety), and it also helps them to realize that they matter. Food is the global language of love.
I had people that prepared a meal for me outside of the initial homecoming period. In fact, I had a group of women that prepared food for me weekly for some time after my kids had been home a year. Talk about feeling loved!!
2. Phone calls. I love phone calls. I hate that sometimes I can't talk, but I know my friends will call back if I have to go put out a fire. These phone calls are my outlet, my therapy, my peace and my sanity. I have a dear friend in Boston. I know that when I talk to her, whatever we're going through, however impossible it may seem, she will make me laugh. When I get off the phone with her it's like I can conquer the world. I can say really awful, terrible things and she'll say really awful, terrible things right along with me. And then we'll giggle and make a joke about about poop or something. These phone calls are a treasured gift that I never take for granted.
3. The "I'll drop anything for you" friends. These people amaze me. They will drop whatever they've got going on to come to your rescue because you're in crisis. They stay calm. They keep you calm. They don't say things like, "You're kid did what? Get rid of him!" No, they say things like, "Okay. We've got this. What do we need to do next. Here, have a beer." These are the people that you can say, "I know I haven't talked to you in months, but I need you right now." No questions asked, they'll be there. I had a great core group back home. They were heroes. Find them. Be one of these people if you can. You will make an incredible difference in the life of a child.
4. Non-judgement. Until you've witnessed your nightmares coming true, you cannot judge a family walking the path of older child adoption. That's not to say that sometimes I don't need people to keep me on the path. I do. I sometimes find myself treading into the waters of nastiness, and a kind word from my husband or a close friend can help me get back on that path. What doesn't help is, "Oh my gosh. I can't believe she's thinking about residential treatment. I could NEVER do that to my child. The poor kid." It's human to think those things. It's cruel to say them out loud. The truth is, until you've done this you have no idea what it can do to you. I far too often say to myself, "I used to be a good mom." I used to be a mother that didn't yell. I used to be a mother that always had a loving smile for her child. I used to be the mother that always used positive reinforcement and stayed far away from punitive discipline. I used to be a kind, selfless mother. Sometimes I still see her, but now I'm a more honest mother. I'm a more human mother. I think I can better relate to the mothers throughout the world that are struggling with hardships (although I do appreciate that worldwide, my struggles are far easier that most mothers). I'm a mother that no longer judges. I'm a mother that's been brought to her knees so many times. I'm a mother that wants to stand with other mothers through hard times and big mistakes. If you can be that fellow mother for someone else, do it!
I had a lovely friend that visited me once a week in my home. She would sit with me and let me say my deepest, darkest thoughts. She had no judgement for me. Instead, she shared with me her shame. She was older and wiser than I was, but she never let me feel that. Her heart and understanding will resonate with me forever.
5. Purpose. I don't think I'm alone in my need for purpose. Yes, I adopted because I wanted a big family and I love older kids. But it's not the only reason. I get in trouble when I believe that this is the only reason. I adopted older children because it's where I felt that God was calling us to. I never believed in a calling from God before it happened. It was something I tried to deny but could not. I need to know that my decision to adopt was bigger than my wants. When it's all about you, it's easier to run away when things don't turn out the way you'd hoped.
I don't like it when people call me a saint. (If you knew how much beer I drank, you certainly wouldn't say that.) I don't like it when people imply that I'm good. (God is good. I am not.) What I appreciate is when people respect our calling and treat it like a ministry. When people make that acknowledgment I feel supported. I feel a sense of duty and purpose. I wake up feeling that I matter. I don't need ridiculous platitudes. Don't pinch my cheeks and pat me on the head. I am a serious person facing a serious battle. This is my calling and it's tested me more than anything I've ever done. I've walked though the desert and I've witnessed miracles. Please let me feel like I'm part of the Kingdom of Heaven so I can continue walking.
Normally I like to preface everything I say with "but this is just me". When it comes to the above, I don't think it's just me. In fact, I think we ALL need these things wherever we are in our lives, no matter who we are. These are fundamental, basic human needs. Sadly, so often we don't get these things in our community and we fail.
I know it's not something I'm supposed to say, but if I didn't receive all of the the above, our adoption would have ended in disruption. There's no doubt in my mind. Those people that stood by and helped me up, helped these children up. I value their contribution to my kids as much as I value my own. Anyone can serve the fatherless, the orphan. Sometimes doing so is being the support for a mother and father that are in the midst of the struggles of adoption. Don't be afraid to be that person, and don't be afraid to let those people in.
I was very lucky. I had amazing friends that held my hand through it all. When I needed help, they listened and acted. I had very supportive parents that were willing to drive seven hours one way to come to our aid. I had a very dear church that walked us through. These people are why I'm still standing and why this family is still going strong. The impact they've had on our lives is on my mind daily. What they did for me was nothing short of miraculous.
Now that so many of these people are thousands of miles away, I find myself thinking of the things that I'm lacking and it scares me a little. I decided that what's missing is an honest look at my needs and an understanding of where I need help. If you're in the process of adoption, this might be something to think about. If you're wanting to walk along side a family that is adopting an older child, maybe you can get some ideas here.
1. Food. Bringing food is the first thing people think of when a child is welcomed into a family and it's important for adoptive families too. Having a meal loving prepared for you makes life so much easier, but it also says "I care". Having food brought to me didn't just make life easier for me, it helped me to see that I wasn't alone and I had people I could count on. For my children (especially the one's that were new to our family), it helped them to see that they had a community. Many of our children come from cultures that support one another heavily. Making food for one another is a regular thing. My kids often comment how disconnected American society is. Having people bring us food gives them that feeling of community (or safety), and it also helps them to realize that they matter. Food is the global language of love.
I had people that prepared a meal for me outside of the initial homecoming period. In fact, I had a group of women that prepared food for me weekly for some time after my kids had been home a year. Talk about feeling loved!!
2. Phone calls. I love phone calls. I hate that sometimes I can't talk, but I know my friends will call back if I have to go put out a fire. These phone calls are my outlet, my therapy, my peace and my sanity. I have a dear friend in Boston. I know that when I talk to her, whatever we're going through, however impossible it may seem, she will make me laugh. When I get off the phone with her it's like I can conquer the world. I can say really awful, terrible things and she'll say really awful, terrible things right along with me. And then we'll giggle and make a joke about about poop or something. These phone calls are a treasured gift that I never take for granted.
3. The "I'll drop anything for you" friends. These people amaze me. They will drop whatever they've got going on to come to your rescue because you're in crisis. They stay calm. They keep you calm. They don't say things like, "You're kid did what? Get rid of him!" No, they say things like, "Okay. We've got this. What do we need to do next. Here, have a beer." These are the people that you can say, "I know I haven't talked to you in months, but I need you right now." No questions asked, they'll be there. I had a great core group back home. They were heroes. Find them. Be one of these people if you can. You will make an incredible difference in the life of a child.
4. Non-judgement. Until you've witnessed your nightmares coming true, you cannot judge a family walking the path of older child adoption. That's not to say that sometimes I don't need people to keep me on the path. I do. I sometimes find myself treading into the waters of nastiness, and a kind word from my husband or a close friend can help me get back on that path. What doesn't help is, "Oh my gosh. I can't believe she's thinking about residential treatment. I could NEVER do that to my child. The poor kid." It's human to think those things. It's cruel to say them out loud. The truth is, until you've done this you have no idea what it can do to you. I far too often say to myself, "I used to be a good mom." I used to be a mother that didn't yell. I used to be a mother that always had a loving smile for her child. I used to be the mother that always used positive reinforcement and stayed far away from punitive discipline. I used to be a kind, selfless mother. Sometimes I still see her, but now I'm a more honest mother. I'm a more human mother. I think I can better relate to the mothers throughout the world that are struggling with hardships (although I do appreciate that worldwide, my struggles are far easier that most mothers). I'm a mother that no longer judges. I'm a mother that's been brought to her knees so many times. I'm a mother that wants to stand with other mothers through hard times and big mistakes. If you can be that fellow mother for someone else, do it!
I had a lovely friend that visited me once a week in my home. She would sit with me and let me say my deepest, darkest thoughts. She had no judgement for me. Instead, she shared with me her shame. She was older and wiser than I was, but she never let me feel that. Her heart and understanding will resonate with me forever.
5. Purpose. I don't think I'm alone in my need for purpose. Yes, I adopted because I wanted a big family and I love older kids. But it's not the only reason. I get in trouble when I believe that this is the only reason. I adopted older children because it's where I felt that God was calling us to. I never believed in a calling from God before it happened. It was something I tried to deny but could not. I need to know that my decision to adopt was bigger than my wants. When it's all about you, it's easier to run away when things don't turn out the way you'd hoped.
I don't like it when people call me a saint. (If you knew how much beer I drank, you certainly wouldn't say that.) I don't like it when people imply that I'm good. (God is good. I am not.) What I appreciate is when people respect our calling and treat it like a ministry. When people make that acknowledgment I feel supported. I feel a sense of duty and purpose. I wake up feeling that I matter. I don't need ridiculous platitudes. Don't pinch my cheeks and pat me on the head. I am a serious person facing a serious battle. This is my calling and it's tested me more than anything I've ever done. I've walked though the desert and I've witnessed miracles. Please let me feel like I'm part of the Kingdom of Heaven so I can continue walking.
Normally I like to preface everything I say with "but this is just me". When it comes to the above, I don't think it's just me. In fact, I think we ALL need these things wherever we are in our lives, no matter who we are. These are fundamental, basic human needs. Sadly, so often we don't get these things in our community and we fail.
I know it's not something I'm supposed to say, but if I didn't receive all of the the above, our adoption would have ended in disruption. There's no doubt in my mind. Those people that stood by and helped me up, helped these children up. I value their contribution to my kids as much as I value my own. Anyone can serve the fatherless, the orphan. Sometimes doing so is being the support for a mother and father that are in the midst of the struggles of adoption. Don't be afraid to be that person, and don't be afraid to let those people in.
