Say What?: Adoption and Pregnancy

If you haven't read my previous post, please take a moment to do so HERE before you read this.

Everyone has heard the stories about couples who try for years to have biological children and then get pregnant once they adopt. The Lord has decided to make that our story. But I want to tell you that this is not the case for the VAST MAJORITY of couples who walk this road. This path is one that is full of hurt, fear, shame and anger. I know because I walked it for four and a half years. I know how much it hurts to see person after person in your life have children while you remain childless. I know how hollow words can sound, even when they come with the best of intentions.

So I wanted to take a moment today to share some things that come from deep within my heart. I wish so much that there was a way for me to clarify my tone in this post. I'm fear that I may come across as angry or self-righteous. Please know that is not how I feel at all. I feel very humbled by our current reality, and I feel a profound need to speak for those who are on a difficult journey. Imagine me sitting on your couch with a cup of coffee, speaking quietly and sincerely. That's where I am today.


If you know someone, myself included, whose story includes adoption and then pregnancy soon after, I want to humbly ask you to be slow to say some of the following things:

-"I just knew this would happen."

No one knew this would happen. Especially not me. There were years of hurt, deep hurt, about not being able to have a biological child. We walked the path of adoption believing wholeheartedly that it was the only one we would know, and we were honored to be called to such a life. Hearing that someone knew it would happen makes the suffering feel small, makes me feel like I should have known this all along, makes me feel like my faith was not enough and if it had been then the last four years would not have been so hard. And it makes me feel like people believe we adopted in order to also have a biological child. Not one of these things is true.

-"This always happens."

I think this is the hardest one to hear. Mainly because it doesn't always happen. It almost never happens. I think the perception is that it happens a lot because these are the stories people tell, so we feel like we hear it all the time. I have met hundreds of women on this adoption journey, hundreds, and two of them have had this happen. I know so many beautiful women with faithful hearts who long for both adopted children and biological children and their reality is that it might not ever happen. That is the same reality I lived with for years, too. Hearing that "it always happens" hurts so much because those of us walking this road know it might not happen. And for those of us who did get pregnant soon after, it cheapens what we have experienced.

-"You must have finally been relaxed."

I cannot speak for everyone who has experienced what Adam and I are currently walking through, but I can say this. Sweet Baby #2 came our way sometime between our trips to Ethiopia. It was the most stressful month of my entire life. We had just left our son in an orphanage, and we did not know how long it would be until we could go back and get him. The week after we got home, my sweet, sweet grandfather went to be with Jesus. It was such a deep loss for me, especially coupled with the fact that we were away from our son. That month might be the hardest month I will ever live through, and it was in the midst of that that the Lord brought us this very unexpected gift. I can say for certain that I was not relaxed, and I know that, ultimately, my state of mind has very little to do with what God is up to in our lives. This is God's story; we are just the instruments.



If you you know someone who is in the adoption process and struggling to have biological children, too, I want to ask you from the bottom of my hear to be cautious in using these next few phrases.

-"Don't worry. As soon as you adopt, you'll get pregnant."

Oh, I had so many people say this to me. I would nod and smile along, but in reality I wanted to hide in a closet and cry. It is so hard to hear this, and it is hard for a few different reasons. The first is that there is absolutely no guarantee that this will actually happen for anyone. We reached a place where I fully and completely believed that I would never carry a child into this world. It was a hard reality, but I was doing my best to trust God with my life. When people would say this to me, it would just remind me of what I was not going to experience. The second thing that is so hard about hearing this is that it sounds like the only reason I am adopting is to get pregnant. Nothing could be further from the truth, and I feel confident saying that about every single adoptive mom I know. We adopt because we believe it is God's calling on our life, because we have a deep love for a child brought into the world by another woman, because want to. We do not adopt to trick God or the universe into letting us have a biological child, too.

-"I'm praying so hard that you'll get pregnant after you get this baby home."

I heard this a lot, too. And I appreciate the prayers and the sentiment, but I was not praying for that to happen. I was praying for God to protect Bradley and bring him home and prepare my heart and his to be united as a family. Hearing this, along with the previous statement, really makes it seem like adoption is second tier parenting or second best. Like once I have a biological child, then I am legitimate. Those feelings hurt, and they simply are not true. I cannot imagine loving a child more than I love Bradley, and there is nothing in my biology that ties me to him. I even jokingly told my mom on the plane ride over to bring him home that if the Lord ever chose to bless us with a biological child I hoped I would love him as much as I love Bradley. Please be careful with statements like these, as they can hurt an already wounded heart.

-"I have this friend who tried for years to get pregnant, and then she adopted and BOOM...twins."

I know that we love to share stories to encourage people we love. I do it all the time. But for a woman struggling through infertility, these stories are not encouraging. At least they were not for me. She may nod and smile and thank you when you say it, but chances are she is dying inside because she believes with her whole heart that that will never be her. Because the truth is that there are people in this world who walk through all of life and never get the thing they want most. Maybe it's a spouse. Maybe it's a child. And hearing story after story of it happening for seemingly everyone else is so hard because you know that it might not ever be you. So if you find yourself about to share a story about someone you know who became pregnant right after an adoption, please ask yourself if sharing it will truly help the person you love or if it runs the risk of hurting them even more. And I would urge you to err on the side of caution. Please be slow to share and quick to listen. That is what those on this road need the most.

With deep love,
Baylor

Say What?: Wrong with Him

It has been awhile since I have sat down to write a Say What? post. It's not because I have suddenly stopped having people say silly things to me. I've gotten some good ones lately. Some funny and some not so much. It's more that I always want to make sure I am not writing from a place of anger. Rather, I want to approach this from a place of love and grace with the goal of extending a friendly hand for those not super familiar with the adoption world and all its nuances.

And so today I want to address a question that I have gotten a few times since our referral.

"So...what's wrong with him?"

Eeeeeeeek. Nails on chalkboard.

Before I say anything else, I want to pause and clarify something. I know what people mean when they say this, and I know that (most of the time) it is not coming from a place of judgment or hostility. I know people are curious and are likely asking if we are pursuing a special needs adoption. We are not doing that this time around. However, "special needs" and "wrong" are not interchangeable terms. There is nothing wrong with children who have special needs. They are deserving of love just as much as their typically developing counterparts.

Still, even with that in mind, I want to say that this question has the potential to be extremely hurtful if you find yourself on the receiving end of it. The implication is that in order for your child to be placed for adoption that there must have been something "wrong" with him. Ouch.

Most of the time, for missteps like this, there is some other way to word the question, but for this, I have to say that there is just no appropriate way to ask. Mainly because this is an incredibly personal question. I have talked before about the reality that adoption is born from hardship. It exists because we live in a fallen world. That is a heavy weight for an adoptive family, especially the adopted child, to carry. There are countless articles and studies that have been done on adoptees and their feelings about being adopted. And I'll be honest; it's a struggle to read through some of them. There is a lot of hurt out there. I pray ALL THE TIME that Bradley will always feel loved, treasured, cherished and fought for in his family.

But there is a part of his life story that is hard, and for it to be implied, intentionally or not, that that part exists because there is something wrong with him...

Well. That is not OK with me.

Adoption is something that happened to my son. It is not something he picked. He did not do anything or say anything or have anything "wrong" with him that led to this outcome. We live in a hard world, and difficult things happen every single day. I know B's birth mother made the best decision she could. I know she loves him, and I want it to be known that I honor his birth mother for her choice. I applaud her for it. And for all my days, I will tell my son that truth. He was and is so loved and cherished. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with him. He was designed and created by the Most High God.

So today I want to kindly implore you to steer clear of this line of questioning. It won't get you too far, and it will likely result in some hurting hearts, especially if these questions are asked in front of the child. Please, please put the best interest of the family ahead of curiosity.

With love,
Baylor

Say What? : An American Baby

I usually get a little nervous when I sit down to write a Say What? post. But my stomach is doing some extra turning as I think through what I am writing today. It is something I have wanted to write about for a while, but I have shied away from it for a lot of different reasons. Primarily, I do not want to offend anyone. I don't really know what my readership is out there, but I do know that we all have varied life experiences that color and shape the lens through which we view the world and everyone/everything in it. So my life experiences very much color the way I see and feel about the world around me, especially the adoption part of my world. The last thing I want to do is be offensive or put someone off, but I do feel like what I am about to try to address needs to be said. And so I am going to try to get it out there, and I am asking for your grace as I do.

I have to start out by saying that, to me, adoption is one of the most beautiful things in the world. And just like anything that is truly beautiful, it is different. Adoption never looks the same. For anyone. Ever. People adopt for different reasons, from different places, at different times. And no one reason, place or time is better than another. So here is where we are starting:

"Why aren't you adopting an American baby?"

"If there are so many American babies that need families, why are you adopting from Ethiopia?"

"Don't you feel like you are turning your back on an American baby?"

"Did you just give up on an American baby?"

I have gotten each of these questions over the last 2+ years that we have been in the adoption process. Most of them from people who do not know me or Adam personally. One was actually at our adoption yard sale. I am always a little surprised when people ask me this type of question, and I always struggle with the best way to respond. Generally, it goes something like this:

"Oh. Well, we just really feel like God has called us to adopt from Ethiopia."

So deep. So profound. You're moved, right? Gah! I freeze up, because there is so much I want to say in that moment, so much about adoption and love that I want to convey, so much about how love isn't about borders and nationalities. So while it is true that YES we absolutely know that God has called us to adopt from Ethiopia, there is SO much more I want to say. And that is why I am writing today.

I need you to know that I LOVE American babies. I have lots friends with American babies. I am about to be an aunt to an American baby. And some of our very closest friends are in the process of a domestic adoption of an American baby. I hope to one day give birth to an American baby. Yay America! We are not anti-domestic adoption in any way. In fact, it is something we will very likely pursue in the future.

But what we know right now is that the Lord has called us to a place on the other side of the world. God has asked us, and so many beautiful families we know, to love regardless of borders and nationalities and ethnicities and races. We are not doing this because it is somehow more noble than a domestic adoption. It isn't. At all. We are not doing this because it is faster than a domestic adoption. It isn't. We are not doing this because it is cooler than a domestic adoption. It isn't. Not even a little bit.

We are doing this because it is what we know we are supposed to do.

Since I was a junior in high school, my family has worked with an orphanage down in Honduras. Beautiful people in a beautiful place. And while we were doing that work, we got similar questions:

"Why aren't you helping people in America?"

And I could never come up with a great answer. But my friend Ashley did. Here is what she said:

"I don't think God looks down at us and says, 'Those are my American children, and those are my Honduran children.' I think God looks down at us and says, 'Those are my children.'"

And I think that is so beautiful and completely spot on.

More than that. I think it applies to the adoption world, too.

When we consider adoption, I don't believe God says, "These are my American children, and those are my Ethiopian children."

I think He says, "Those are my children. Love them."

And that is what we are compelled to do. Every single one of us. We are compelled to love the fatherless and care for the abandoned. It is God's heart. You see it all over His Word. Take care of the fatherless. It doesn't matter where they are from. Nationality does not determine how deserving a child is of having a family. That should be a right, not a privilege. It is something every single child is entitled to.

Several months ago, I shared a video with you called, "Depraved Indifference." In it, a pastor is talking about the orphan crisis and what our responsibility is. Here it is. Take a minute to watch it.

We are all called to love and care for the fatherless, wherever they may be. If that means that you are a foster parent, then I applaud you. If you are domestically adopting, I am cheering you on. If you support orphan care ministries here in the U.S. and/or around the world, you are doing an awesome and necessary thing. If you are adopting internationally, I am running the race right beside you. All of these things are pieces of God's heart for the fatherless, and they are all important.

What I think most people mean when they ask me about not adopting an American baby, is "What made you choose Ethiopia?"

This a question I LOVE to answer. So please ask me. Ask me, and I will tell you how we did not start out even on the African continent, but in Asia. And then we found out that we were not old enough to adopt from that part of the world. How we felt called to Africa, Uganda specifically, and then some requirements changed. And the Congo was closed when we applied. And how, FINALLY, we found a country whose requirements we met and whose children we felt instantly drawn to.

Ethiopia.

I love to tell the story of how God brought us to Ethiopia. So ask me over and over again; I will always answer.

"Father to the fatherless, defender of the widow is God in His holy dwelling. God 

       sets the lonely in families."

Psalm 68:5-6a

Love,
Baylor

If You Had Kids: A "Say What?" Post

It has been a while since I broached the "Say What?" category on my blog. I'm not sure why that is. Maybe I am worried about coming across the wrong way, being perceived as snarky and rude. Please know that is never my intention. My goal is to simply bring awareness that some of the things we say (even without intentional malice) bring a lot of pain to those around us.

So today I wanted to address something that is said to me with decent regularity, and usually by people I do not personally know. There are a few forms this phrase usually comes in, and here they are:

"Well, you would understand if you had kids."

"I mean if you had kids, you would know."

"You must not have kids."

And the one that hurts the most:

"You'll understand when you have a family."

So often, these things are said with a laughing and conspiratorial tone, as if we are all in on an inside joke together. And I know that those who have said this (or some other variation) have done so without malicious intentions.

I want to take a minute to talk with you, candidly, about what I hear when people say these things to me.

"Well, you would understand if you had kids." 

"I mean, if you had kids, you would know." 

I hear that, because we do not have kids, I don't count. I don't know how hard life is. I couldn't possibly relate to you. Because I am childless. My heart drops every time someone says this to me. I don't know how to respond. Because, they are right. I don't understand what it is like to have kids. But I want to. I want to give up sleeping through the night, to change diapers, to rock my kids to sleep, to make meals that end up mostly on the table and placemats, to do endless cycles of laundry, to baby talk and miss adult conversation. I want to understand. And when I am reminded that I don't, I feel like somehow I just don't measure up. Like I am not a real woman because I don't understand what it's like to have kids.

"You must not have kids." 

I hear that there is something about me (maybe a brand on my forehead; ha!) that shouts, "Hey! I don't have children!" This has been said to me several times, but one instance stands out the most. This was said to me once by another teacher. Not someone I even work with, but someone who was looking over my shoulder at a professional development meeting while I was organizing some papers I had been editing for my students. She asked to see them and when she saw my commentary on them, "You must not have kids" was her very loud response. I totally froze. I had no idea what to say. I don't think she meant anything by it, but it felt like she did. I MUST not have kids? Must not? I just offered up a weak smile and shook my head, acknowledging the lack of pitter patter of little feet on my floors. Wearing that truth like a badge of shame. 

"You'll understand when you have a family." 

I hear that Adam doesn't count as my family because he is "just" my husband. I hear that I won't really have a family until we have children. This hurts more deeply than I can explain. My heart wants to shout, "But I DO have a family! I have the most wonderful husband. And I have parents and a sister and a dog that I love too much. They count!" I know what people mean when they say this. But that is not what I hear. This is one of the reasons I never call trying to have kids "starting a family." I know some people will think that I am picking over semantics, but these are real feelings, real implications. 

This is one of those posts for which I really wish you could hear my voice. I am not ranting and raving. I am not angry. My goal is to come from a place of love and gently encourage all of us (myself definitely included) to consider how our words might sound in the ears of those who hear them. Let us all resist the urge to say the first thing that comes to our minds, especially if it is exclusionary in nature. Instead, let's include and encourage those who need it. Let's reach out to those who are hurting.  

To those of you, and there are too many to count, who have gone out of your way to be sensitive to us during this difficult season of waiting to be matched with our little Ethiopian babe(s), I have to thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have not gone unnoticed. 

Love, 

Baylor 

Just Flying By! A Say What? Post

I have to start this one out by saying that today's Say What? is not something that EVER makes me upset or angry. Not at all! This is one of those things that makes me laugh and serves as a reminder that there is life outside of the adoption (something I tend to forget). My hope in today's post is to provide a little bit of the perspective of the waiting mom while reminding myself that there is a great big world out there where other things happen. So, without further ado, here we go.

Now that we are officially in the 20s (insert mega sigh of relief), I have been getting a few remarks like this:

-"This adoption is just flying by!"

-"It seems like you just got on the waiting list yesterday!"

-"Wow! This is all happening so fast!"

I appreciate these comments so much, because it shows me that people are hanging in there with us, still keeping up with our journey and supporting us. Your support is truly carrying us through this very trying time. Thank you for that.

But on the other side of that, I have to say that this adoption is not flying by. We didn't get on the waiting list yesterday. And it isn't happening fast.

Still, I can relate to the people who feel that way. I have felt that way about things that have happened to other people, things I am not directly involved in. Like friends having babies or looking for a new job or waiting to buy a house. In the past, I have always said things like, "That went pretty quickly!" or, "Wow! That happened so fast!"

Never again.

It might seem fast to me. But I am on the outside. I am not the one living it every day. That makes a difference. A BIG one.

When it comes to our adoption, it seems to be anything but fast. Days drag on. Sometimes I feel like I am literally having to claw my way from one day to the next. Every single day for the last one year, seven months and two days, I have thought about our children. I have wondered where they are, what they look like, how old they are, if they are safe, if they are hungry, if they are alone, if they are scared, if they are being loved. I have wondered how much longer we will have to wait, how much longer I can take this, how much of their lives we will miss. I have begged God to bring them home now, pleaded that He care for them in the meantime.

These are the thoughts that race through my mind each day. Every day. Sometimes without stopping.

So for me, the last year, seven months and two days have not flown by. For me, they seem endless.

And it is that way because this is my life. This adoption is what God has in front of us right now, and so we live it every day. It is deeply personal for us. These are our children, and each day apart from them is almost too much to bear.

So please keep on asking us how it is going. We love to talk about it and share what God is doing. Please be excited with us that we are in the 20s and that we are getting closer. We need those reminders from you. They are gifts to us, reinforcing the truth that we are not alone in this. And at the same time, know that this has been and will continue to be a long process. There is a whole lot of waiting involved. And while it may not look like it from the outside, this is so hard for us (for all waiting parents), and we feel it every single day.

Hopefully the rest of this really will fly by and we can get those babies home soon!

Love,
Baylor

So Fast! A Say What? Post

I am struggling to come up with a clever introduction for this one, so I will just jump right into it.

" I heard that the reason so many people adopt from Ethiopia is because it is so fast. I bet that's why you chose to adopt from there. " 

Hmmmm. OK. 

There are a whole lot of factors that go in to choosing a country when you decide to pursue international adoption. And I would say (at least for us) that "time frame," while one of the most difficult parts to endure, ranks pretty close to the bottom of the list of factors to consider. International adoption is a decidedly long process. You really cannot expect anything different when you are working with multiple agencies and organizations on two different continents. There are so many moving parts with an international adoption and so many unexpected things can pop up and cause delays at any given moment that even the timelines given by adoption agencies are extremely fluid. Truly, nothing is concrete (which in incredibly aggravating). For example, when we sent in our application on April 10, 2012, the projected length of wait once on the waiting list was 6-9 months. And I will say that is short for an international adoption. By the time we finished all of our paperwork and got everything to Ethiopia, the wait bumped up to 10-12 months. Today, I think it is about 12-15 months. That is just the time you spend on the actual waiting list. Prior to that, you have about 4 months of paperwork. Once you are matched with your child, you have several more months until he/she is actually home with you. 

So... No. I would have to say we did not choose Ethiopia because it is such a lightning quick program. 

And for people to make the assumption that we did so is incredibly hurtful. 

We spent a long time trying to figure out where God was leading us in this. Initially, we felt drawn to China (a program with an incredibly long wait, the longest I have heard of actually), but we found out that we are not currently old enough. So we had to table China for later, you know, until we grow up! We continued praying and felt God lay the continent of Africa on our hearts. We knew that we wanted to adopt through Lifeline Children's Services, and Lifeline only adopts out of three countries in Africa: Democratic Republic of Congo, Uganda and Ethiopia. At the time of our application, the DRC program was closed to applicants. It is a pilot program, and our agency had reached the maximum number of families for the pilot. So, DRC was out. We looked first at Uganda and were very interested. However, a Ugandan law changed right at the time we were looking. The new law would require us to take our child back to Uganda for about two weeks every five years and appear before a judge until he/she turned 18. Knowing that we wanted to adopt more than once and that our goal was for me to stay home with our kids, we did not feel like we could make that sort of a commitment. Additionally, we found out that we would only be legal guardians of our child and not be recognized by the Ugandan government as the child's legal parents. We felt like this was not the right fit for us. So we turned to Ethiopia. We met all of the requirements and felt like God was confirming this path for us. 

Our original plan was not Ethiopia; it was not even Africa. But this is what God has for us. And so I hope you can understand why the implication that we are just taking the easiest road does not sit well with me.

More than that, I will say that this path has been anything but easy, anything but fast. Each day stretches out in front of us. Each day is another day we are apart from our child(ren). And for that reason, each day is hard. We are trusting in God to carry us through this. This is His plan for our lives, not ours. We are following God's lead. If you know me at all, you know that this is not what I thought our life would look like at this point. It has been way harder than what I thought would happen. I was ready to be a mother four years ago. And I am still waiting. And we will be waiting for a long time. 

Now, all of this does not mean that I do not want you asking me why we chose Ethiopia. I love when people ask that question. 

" What made you choose Ethiopia? " 

I love it. 

I love it because it gives me the opportunity to talk about what the Lord has done and is doing in our lives. It gives me the opportunity to talk about how God led us to Ethiopia, not about how we picked it because it would be so easy for us. It gives me the opportunity to talk about His grace and how He has sustained me through what has been the longest wait of my life. So keep on asking. 

We are still waiting. We are running this race that the Lord has laid out in front of us. It is the hardest thing we have ever done. And there are days when it feels like it will never end. But we are trying to trust in the Lord and in His plan, His flawless plan. And we know that one day this part of our race will be over. That will be a joyous day. 

"I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith." 2 Timothy 4:7

Love, 

Baylor 

"Your Own Kids": A Say What? Post

I am sure you can guess where this one is going. Today's Say What? is one that I think a LOT of adoptive parents have heard, especially those of us who are adopting before having biological children. It usually starts out the same way. Sweet, curious people will ask how long we have been married and if we have kids. We, of course, reply that we are working on year number six of wedded bliss and that we are in the process of adopting from Ethiopia. Generally, people are super excited for us and want to hear all about it, which I love, because I loooove talking about our little bird (so please keep asking how it is going). Inevitably though, the conversation gets to this point:

"Do you ever want to have your own kids?"

Or...

"You want your own kids, right?"

Or...

"Can you not have your own kids?"

The trouble with this phrasing of the question is that it implies (albeit unintentionally) that our adopted kiddos will, in fact, not be our own kids. And that is simply not the case. All of the children the Lord sees fit to bring into our family will all equally, without exception be ours. Adopting children is not like buying a new pair of shoes. You get the shoes home, they don't work with your outfit, you take them back to the store. Not the case with adoption. The decision to adopt is a conscious choice to bring a child into your family forever. There are no strings attached. We cannot rightfully expect our adopted children to be grateful to us for "saving" them (frowny face here because I do not like when people see it that way) by bringing them into our family; that is not something we will remind them of when they are misbehaving. If our child is having a difficult time, we cannot and will not think that this would not be happening if he/she was really our kid. That would be insanity. And that brings us to a key question.

What if God looked at us that way? What if He looked at us like we were not His own children? What if Jesus was His own and we were....what? The Bible tells us that we are heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ. Let's look at that:

"The Spirit Himself testifies with us that we are God's children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs--heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share with His sufferings in order that we may also share in His glory." Romans 8:16-17

If you are a Christ follower, then make no mistake about it, you have been adopted into God's family. When He looks at you, He sees the likeness of Christ. Your sin has been forgiven, your debt paid in full. You are 100% in God's family. But not biologically. So, then, are you His own? Absolutely! Praise God for that truth! It is a beautiful thing! That same reality carries over into earthly adoption in this world. This little one, born all the way across the ocean, is ours, will always be ours, could not be more ours if we gave birth to him/her. And I praise God for that, too. His sacrifice makes this possible for us, and we are so, so thankful.

Now, let me stop here and say that I have never once been offended by anyone who has asked me one of these questions (well, except for my dental hygienist, who badgered me about my own kids all through my dental appointment, leaving me unable to respond because her hands were in my mouth). Let me also say, that not being offended has been a choice. It bothers me, hurts me to hear these questions phrased this way because of what they imply, but I know that there is no malice behind them, so I decide not to be offended. And I do know what people mean by these questions. I do! And I get it. It can be hard to think of the right words. I totally understand that. Allow me to help by sharing just one word. Biological. Any children that Adam and I birth into this world will be our biological children. So, one day, Lord willing, we will have a house full of adopted children and biological children. And for the record, all of them will be our own kids.

"For those who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God." Romans 8:14

Love,
Baylor

It Finally Happened: A "Say What?" Post

As I have followed other adoption bloggers over the last several months, I have often laughed to myself at the things people say to adoptive parents. These sweet moms have had people say all sorts of outrageous things to them about adopting and their perceptions of it. The adoption community as a whole seems to be very good about shaking things off and chalking a lot of comments up to lack of understanding, though I am sure that every now and then someone really crosses the line and gets their head bitten off by the mother of an adopted child. So, naturally, I had been wondering if this would happen to me, how I would handle it, what I would say. Our friends and family are unusually adoption-savvy and extremely supportive, so I haven’t really encountered anything too impressive. Until today. It finally happened.

Adam and I spent today running around taking care of some last minute Christmas shopping and errands. Our last stop was Wal-Mart, a place that sends chills down my spine when I think about it. We ran in to get some things, a quick trip. Now, Adam is really, really good about talking to cashiers when we are checking out of stores. He just strikes up a conversation, and it usually ends with the cashier laughing and shaking her head at him. Today was no different. As our cashier started ringing us up, he started chatting with her, and somehow they landed on the topic of our marriage. She asked us how long we have been married, and I told her that it would be six years this June. She then asked us what we were waiting on to have kids. We laughed, and I told her that we were actually in the process of adopting, to which she replied:

“I was gonna adopt, but then I saw that movie about the orphan. You know, the one where she kills everybody. And I don’t want to end up with a murderer, so I decided not to adopt.”

Hmmmm. Well. Ok then.

Over the last six years of teaching teenagers, I have developed a pretty good poker face; I call it my teacher mask. I tried very hard to employ it at that moment and just keep my face blank while I thought of something exceptionally wise and profound to say. Unfortunately, I ended up making an awkward laugh/burst of air noise accompanied by an, “Oh.” Very eloquent. I’m sure she was moved.

My point being, I simply was not prepared. I’m not mad or upset or anything, but I was completely caught off-guard.  A murderer?? Seems like a bit of a reach to me. I know that there will be a whole lot I have to learn about my sweet baby when we finally bring him/her home. And I hate the fact that there will be actual, literal months of my baby’s life that I will know virtually nothing about. 

But I know Someone who does know. Someone who already knows. And I know Him. So I’m not worried. Do I wish I could change it and know my little bird from day one. Oh, yes. Absolutely. But that is me not wanting to miss a second of this sweet one’s life, me wanting to be there to meet every need, me wanting to be there to protect. And that is not part of God’s plan for our family. He is going to do that while we are apart. And when the time is right, we are going to come together in a way that does not look natural, and God is going to use that to create something beautiful. A picture of the Gospel, of what He did when He sent His only Son to earth to conquer death so that we would not have to suffer. There is nothing natural about the Gospel. But it is beautiful. It is the most beautiful thing in the world. And I cannot, cannot, cannot believe that God has called us to this. We are not worthy. But fortunately for us, that is the way He wants it.

So thank you, Wal-Mart cashier. Thank you for reminding me of Who I am entrusting my little one to before he/she is ever entrusted to me. He is the Author of my life and of my sweet baby's life. And unlike me, He does not make mistakes. So I know I can trust in Him to do what is best for this precious child, even if it something that seems completely counterintuitive to me, even if it hurts. I know that He is good. Always. 

And on a much lesser note, thank you for opening the door to a new blog category, aptly named "Say what?". Click on the category link on the left of this page to follow along with (and hopefully laugh at) some of the crazy, silly and sometimes serious things people say to us wacky adoption folks. 

"Praise the Lord. Praise the Lord, my soul. I will praise the Lord all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live. Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save. When their spirit departs, they return to the ground; on that very day their plans come to nothing. Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God. He is the Maker of heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them—He remains faithful forever. He upholds the cause of the oppressed and gives food to the hungry.
The Lord sets prisoners free, the Lord gives sight to the blind,
the Lord lifts up those who are bowed down, the Lord loves the righteous. The Lord watches over the foreigner
and sustains the fatherless and the widow, but he frustrates the ways of the wicked. The Lord reigns forever, your God, O Zion, for all generations." Psalm 146:1-10

Love,

Baylor