As a parent to kiddos adopted out of difficult situations, here are the things I totally wish someone would have said to me prior to adoption:
1) It’s not gonna feel good all of the time.
2) Nurture is awesome, but genetics are huge.
3) You might have days where you wished you had made a different decision. (don’t guilt yourself about it)
4) Raising children with extra needs causes you to live life around a schedule of medicines, appointments, triggers, and other issues.
5) It does hurt when you are told that you are not their “real parent”. (even though you pretend it doesn’t)
6) Fear causes you to overthink…a lot.
7) There will be things that come up in your child’s life that you never had to deal with.
8) Don’t compare your own upbringing or the way you were as a child to what you expect or wish of your child.
9) Adoptive parenting can be very lonely and isolating.
10) Don’t underestimate your voice in all of it.
11) Never underestimate your child’s voice in all of it.
12) Get used to advocacy. It will become one of your best assets.
13) Adoption = loss. It just does.
I never want to paint a rosy or perfect picture of adoption – not even during National Adoption Month. Instead, I want others to know that while adoption is incredible and totally life-changing, it is also hard.
In order for us (people who work and live life within the realm of adoption) to make a difference, we need to take off our rose-colored glasses. We need to tell it like it is. We have to understand that adoption is wonderful but also challenging. The gavel’s declaration of adoption does not mean that hard stuff ends. If anything, it is just beginning.
For any of you who are parents through adoption and are struggling, I see you. I get it. I am right there with you.
Keep your chin up. Keep it real.
November is National Adoption Month in the US. We set aside this month to focus on adoption stories as well as the plight of many children waiting for families. I’ve been an “official” adoptive parent now for a little over ten years. We’ve stretched out of our comfort zone, dealt with issues that we never thought we would face, and we’ve laughed…a lot.
Even on the hardest days – the ones where we have really struggled – my husband and I do not regret our decision to adopt our children. We would have missed so many precious moments.
Ones like this,
Or, this one…
Thinking back to my “(pre)adoptive mother self”, I totally wish I could say that I was 100% prepared for parenting – not just parenting in general, but adoptive parenting. I know that there are many similarities, but I also know there are many differences.
If could go back, here are a few things I would tell myself:
- When the gavel falls and adoption is declared, that is when the real work begins. Meaning, adoption can get much harder. Sure, there are difficulties getting to the place where you are on the eve of adoption, but oh boy, all of the trials we experienced during that time seem kind of trivial compared to some of the issues we now face on any given day.
- Don’t take it personally. There is a special kind of guilt that seems to tag along with adoptive parenting. It is hard to not take things personally when you witness your child struggling or when your child says things to you that take your breath away (I’m not talking about the sweet statements, although there has been some of those). When you work tirelessly advocating for and managing your child’s life to the point of not being able to capture just a glimpse of forward movement, it is hard to not take it personally. Just don’t. Or, at least, try not to.
- Listen. Like, REALLY listen to others who have walked in the shoes you are about to walk in. Learn what you can about trauma (in the womb and out). Be prepared to have a host of professionals in your life (doctors, specialists, teachers, therapists, etc). Definitely advocate and ask questions but also choose to listen and learn. It will serve you well.
- It is not going to feel good all of the time. The reality is that parenting (of any type) can break your heart from time-to-time. With adoptive parenting, the things that break your heart tend to be ones that you really do not fully comprehend and certainly cannot control. I’m talking about genetic issues that come into play as the years go on. I’m speaking of the damage done in the womb that is hard to explain to someone. I’m thinking of the challenges that you never faced growing up but now dwell in your home because your children face them. Nope. It does not feel good all of the time.
- No matter what, don’t give up and don’t you dare second-guess your importance in the life of your children. Don’t do it. Never do it. Your kids need you. They don’t need another set of parents to not come through. It will get rough. You will think, “Am I really being the best parent I can be? What if I didn’t answer that question the way my child needed me to? Maybe, I’m the problem? What if I tried a little harder?” These questions have circulated in my mind a lot through the years. They are made up of guilt mixed in with a sliver of grief. Just don’t go there.
Looking back to my “(pre)adoptive mother self”, I totally thought I was prepared for all of this. I thought I had a grasp of trauma-informed parenting, adoption issues, loss and grief, and a whole host of behavioral issues. I totally was not. I can’t even pretend that I was.
Yet, would I do it all again? Absolutely.
Can I imagine a life without my children? No way.
Without (foster parenting) and adoption, I could have missed this:
We walked into the parent-teacher conference today and were greeted with a sweet hello. Soon after, their faces turned grim.
“Has (this child) always been withdrawn?”
“Has (this child) struggled before?”
My husband and I did our best to answer their questions. To be honest, I felt like I was on the defensive. It was awkward. Most of all, it broke my heart. We didn’t have the same challenges that our kids do. We both did well in school, had friends and were active in various sports, etc. I’m sure our parents never had the type of parent-teacher conference that we had.
“It might be best to talk to (child’s) doctor about medication changes.”
“(This child) cannot make eye contact.”
“The issues you are describing can be a much bigger issue than what is known. You really need to talk to the doctor.”
“Has your child always struggled with interacting with others and with grades?”
As a parent to children who struggle, it takes a lot of restraint to NOT scream: “This is NOT all my child is about! My child is kind, wants to help others, and loves (his/her) family!!!”
However, at the end of the day, my husband and I know that our children must fit into this world. The world is not going to fit around them. And, to be honest, that sucks. There, I said it.
The misconception that “if you get a child as an infant, then the child will be okay“, just needs to stop. We got our children as babies. We tended to their needs. We celebrated their milestones and giggled at their curiosities. We did the best we could; like most parents do.
While all that helps, it does not (always) erase the problems that some children have. Instead, my husband and I must do the best we can…at this time…given the circumstances that present themselves.
To be honest, today was just a sad day for me. I wish I could just snap my fingers and all of these Earthly challenges would evaporate. I so wish I could exchange my children’s struggles for my own successes – to give them a life without diagnoses, social challenges and academic strife. Yet, in all of this…in all the daily junk…I know full well that the Lord has given me the exact children I am meant to parent. I know this, even on the hard days.
Parenting looks a whole lot different that I visualized it to be. My husband and I wonder what it would be like to be able to go out in the evening with our kids and not worry about meltdowns. We think about going to parent-teacher conferences and hearing, “You child is just the best student ever.” We long for our children to be given certificates and acknowledgments for being ‘good’. Yet, we also know that this is not the parenting journey that we are on. For me, my faith in Christ is what keeps me going. I know that Jesus hasn’t brought us this far to drop us on our heads. (My friend used to tell me this all of the time.) I believe it.
Today was rough. It’s not like any day is easy. The one hope that a parent with a child who struggles has is for their child to be understood and to have a life-changing breakthrough. When this doesn’t seem to be happening, it can surely dampen the situation, but it can never distinguish the power of parents whose entire world exists to create a better place for their children.
If you know a parent of a child who struggles, the best thing you can do is understand them, love on them and support them. Be a non-judgmental ear for them to pour their angst into. They know you can’t fix the issue, but they also know that just having someone who listens to them is vital. Let them cry to you. Allow them to tell you their story – even if they have to do it time and again.
If you are a parent of a child who struggles, please know that you are not alone. Seek out people who will listen to you. Don’t give up.
Tomorrow is a new day.
We were in love the minute we saw him. The nurse rolled up a little, round peach of a baby and announced his name. The crazy and surreal experience of waking up without a baby and going home with one is something that foster parents can relate to. By the end of the evening, we were mesmerized by him. Our hearts were completely captured and dare I say it? We were instantly in love.
Fast forward 72 hours. After a weekend of parents and friends stopping by to visit and discovering the joy of caring for a newborn, I received a call. When you are a foster parent and the number of your case worker shows up unexpectedly on your phone, there is a bit of anxiety that runs through you body.
“Caroline, I just want to let you know that we found a relative and I think she’s going to pass the home study so it looks like we will be moving him in about 90 days.”
“Oh. Okay. Great. I’ll be at the next meeting. Thanks for letting me know.”
As soon as I hung up the phone, I stood in front of our little one asleep in his crib and then, I collapsed. With hands held high and knees to the ground, I said, “Lord, your will be done. Your will be done but if this is your will, you have to carry me through this. You have to help me through this.”
Hands held high hovering and praying over the baby that we had fallen so much in love with.
In that miserable and silent moment, these words were whispered,
“Caroline. It’s not about you.”
“It’s not about you.”
This moment in time will forever be sketched in my mind. I was vulnerable and tired and just felt that FINALLY I had a baby I could potentially believe was mine. I knew that there were no guarantees with fostering. I knew that this child was not “ours”. I also knew that we had to do our due-diligence to support the biological parents and hike the terrain of foster care. I knew all of this, but I did not fully realize how this whole experience was never about me in the first place. It felt like it was supposed to be about me.
I know that sounds selfish. I know it seems backwards. I also know that it is very human to feel that way.
The Lord spoke to me while I was a crumpled, weeping mess in front of a sleeping baby that was already loved by two mammas. He gently reminded me that fostering was not about me. This carried me through each moment, step-by-step, until our adoption almost two years later.
Now, nearly nine years following our first adoption, these words still linger in my heart. Two more kids; many years of laughter and of joy, of thankfulness and questioning, I still hear, “It’s not about you.”
Our three beloved children are wonderful and unique. They are wanted and precious. They are “ours” through and through. Yet, it is not easy. We deal with behavioral issues. We manage medications. We answer tough, heart-breaking questions.
We have extreme defiance. We have hyperactivity and impulsiveness. We have a learning disorder and developmental delays. We go to bed weary. We worry and wonder what the future might bring.
We get rejected. We seem to live through it all. Somehow.
We do this all because it’s not about us. It’s never really been about us.
I’m not the kind of person who will ever paint the realities of life in a rose-colored glasses kind of way. Doing so is a disservice and I just don’t think it’s right. Folks, adoption is hard. Raising kids with extra needs is hard.
There really is no comparison to that of a broken-hearted Mamma; one who wants to transfer her own lessons learned from her Mamma but can’t seem to do it because the messages are not well-received, don’t seem to apply and do not take into consideration the needs of her children.
Despite the struggles and the daily trials, I get up each day believing that, “Maybe, today is the day that he will do things more independently. Maybe, today is the day that she will open her heart and really listen to me. Maybe, today is the day that he won’t have meltdowns. Maybe, today is the day that we will have peace in our house.”
You know what is profound to me? I know that what I experience is minimal compared to the heartbreak that the Lord must feel. I wonder if He feels the same way when we (His children) reject Him on a daily basis. I wonder if He thinks, “Maybe, today is the day…”.
When thinking about the unique experience of parenting through adoption, I know that there is a deep connection to our own relationship with God. We are adopted. We reject Him. We struggle on a daily basis with following Him. We fight. We spit. We struggle. When Jesus hung on that dreadful and glorious Cross, it wasn’t about Him. It was all about us. Jesus took the hard road and He did it for love.
If there is one message that needs to be spread regarding foster parenting and parenting via adoption, it should always be that it is never about us parents. It is always about the children we are fortunate to raise, despite the hardships.
Our example is Jesus. He took up the Cross for His children and for love. He did the hard thing.
May we all do the hard things because it’s not about us.
It’s about love.
“It’s not about you.” Yes, Lord. I’m thankful for that.
Are you a foster parent? Do you struggle with building a relationship with your child’s biological parents? This is something that can be hard but not impossible!
I wrote an article about this very subject. Click: 5 ways to build a strong relationship
As always, I hope this finds you well and encouraged.
I wish I could tell you that it is “easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy” (as my 5-yr-old likes to say) to parent children who have been adopted or to be a foster parent. I’d love to say that once a child enters your home either for foster care or adoption, all problems go away and it’s just downhill and smooth-sailing from there. It would be fantastic for me to declare that I never second-guess myself and that we are all about lollipops, rainbows, and laughter. However, if I were to say any of these things, my words would be false. They would not bear a truthful witness to what it is to be a parent through adoption.
A few months ago, I started praying/speaking these words to God, “What do you want me to do with my life?” “What do you want from me?” One morning while praying, I heard the words, “BE BOLD.” A little startled at the immediate response, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“BE BOLD.” The words were clear, concise and not complicated.
Several months have passed and to be honest, I just kind of ignored this answer. I know the Lord told me to be bold but it was just too simple of a declaration. I am a detail-oriented person and the two-word response to my prayer just didn’t cut it.
With the dawning of a New Year, the Lord’s answer of “Be bold” has never strayed too far from my mind. I wonder, friend, if His words are not only meant for my ears but also for yours.
For prospective foster and adoptive families, you need to know that being bold is imperative. It’s more than just declaring an injustice in what you are witnessing. It requires a stillness of faith AND a movement of courage.
Being bold, in the sight of others who do not understand, is necessary.
When you are asked, “Why in the world would you want to do that?”, be bold.
When people say to you, “I would never subject my own kids to that”, be bold.
When you are quivering in fear over what is going to happen with a child you love, be bold.
When you have the opportunity to love on biological parents, please, by all means, be bold.
Foster parenting and adoption both have this funny way of knocking people to their knees. We fall down time and again, but we get up. We wonder what we are doing and why in the heck are we doing it, but we keep on. In the face of many obstacles and trials, we stand up. We are bold.
When parenting children who come from extremely difficult situations, we learn of our own blessings and our own stumbling blocks. Their histories collide with ours and we realize how different life could have been for us if we were handed down the same hardships these children have been dealt.
I know the saying of “What would happen if you weren’t afraid?” It’s fine and everything but I like this version better: “What would happen if you were bold?”
Since we have such a hope, we are very bold… -2nd Corinthians 3:12
How could your courage and boldness literally change the course of a child’s or adult’s life?
What would your boldness show to children who look up to you?
How could you make an eternal difference for someone?
What if you took that darned thing called infertility, grabbed it by the neck and said, “No. I’m not going down that way”?
What if you become a foster parent and take in kiddos that absolutely soak up your love and attention?
What if you step outside of your preconceived comfort zone and foster a large sibling group, older youth or ones with special needs?
What could happen if you decide tomorrow to wake up declaring that boldness is the only way to live?
We are well on our way into 2018. We don’t know what we will have to face or overcome as the year unfolds but let’s live this year with a boldness that leaves an impression.
Shine your light, friends.
In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. – Matthew 5:16
If you are considering foster care or adoption, my wish is that fear would not stop you. It isn’t easy, but it is so worth.
Question: How are you going to live boldly this year? I’d love to hear your thoughts!
I’ve heard the quote, “Kids Who Need Love the Most Often Ask for it in the Most Unloving Ways” (Russel Barkley) more than once. I never really understood it until I began my own parenting journey many years ago with a relative of mine. Now, as a parent to three children who all have some special (yet not obvious) needs, I totally understand the essence of this quote.
Recently, I was asked to write about this subject for Adoption.com. (By the way, if you haven’t visited the site (www.adoption.com), you should. It is a fantastic site for pretty much all things related to adoption.)
For more on the subject, click this link: Kids Who Need Love the Most
As 2017 comes to an end, I hope you all find yourself surrounded by love, encouragement, and hope.
Oh, friends. Writing this article broke my heart. Working in child welfare, I’ve always been aware of some of the struggles that older youth face both in the system and once they age out of foster care (U.S.), but I never really took a hard a look at the statistics.
In my home state, I have seen a change in the way cases are handled. We are putting more of an effort in developing safety plans to keep families intact. We are aiming for and making increased placements with relatives and others who know the children. The number of kids entering care has dropped significantly in my county. However, there is still older youth who are aging out – whether prepared or not.
They face homelessness, pregnancies, risk of exploitation, and lack of resources. These are just a few of the risks they deal with. If you’d like to learn more, read this What Happens to Kids Who Age out of Foster Care.
If you want to help, consider contacting your local child welfare agency or advocacy group. Get involved. Become a foster parent or a mentor. There are a lot of ways that YOU can make a difference!
See that sweetie right there? That’s my daughter before she came to live with us. Her first foster mama sent us the picture after it was decided that we would be her new home. They loved her dearly but made the decision that they could not be a long term home for her (in case she needed one), so we were called.
I remember it so vividly. As I was sitting in the parking lot of Goodwill (which is a bit ironic), my phone rang. I saw the number and knew it was our state’s child protection services calling. My stomach flip-flopped a bit and I answered, “Hello?”. The social worker on the other line explained my daughter’s situation and asked the words that so many foster families know, “Are you interested in being a placement?”
I told her that I needed to call my husband first. We agreed to talk about it after work. After his call, I called my mom for her advice. Even as an adult, I knew I needed to speak to her. Technically, we were not even on “the list” for placements but we did tell our licensing worker to keep us in mind.
Thoughts swirled through my head. “What about our son?” (He was only two at the time and we had just been through close to two years of fostering him before we were able to adopt.) “How will it impact him?” “Are we ready for another kiddo?” “Can I handle the sleepless nights again?” “Are we ready to not be in control and unsure of what is going to happen with this little girl’s case?” “Can we do this?” You get the point. It was overwhelming and exciting all at the same time.
I called the social worker back and asked, “Could we have a few days to work some things out and talk about it before we make a decision?” She said, “Of course, that is fine.” So we did…and we said, “Yes.”
This past weekend we celebrated my daughter’s ninth birthday. With each of my children’s birthdays, I relive the day they came into my life. It’s like reliving a birth story but of course, I wasn’t there for their births. I wasn’t around to watch them enter this big world. I didn’t get to swaddle them up and hold them close as they cried out, “I AM HERE!” However, I was there when social services called. I’ve been here ever since.
Watching my daughter grow through the years has given us much joy. It has also come with a whole lot of challenges – some unique to adoptive families, some typical of any family raising a girl.
She’s a bit mysterious, generous, ornery, charming, super strong-willed, and creative.
She’s interested in learning about the world around her and feels every ounce of emotion that enters her mind. If we can just teach her to harness all of these qualities, I dare think she could be a force to reckon with in the future.
I’ve had nine on my mind; nine years of watching a baby who literally arrived on my doorstep grow into a girl who makes an impression on just about everyone she meets.
Foster parenting is something that never leaves you. The experience is surreal, emotional and so worth it. When we began, we had no idea what would happen. When we decided to close our license, we walked away with a wealth of knowledge, a big dose of humility, and two children who became ours through adoption.
Yes, I’ve had nine on my mind; nine years of loving and training up a daughter who just might change the world. I know she’s changed mine.
Happy Birthday, Sis. Love You Forever.