On Being Tarana's Mama

It's Mother's Day weekend, time for reflecting on my life as a mother and the life of the mother who brought Tarana into this world. I think of that mother often. I can picture her playing out the stories T has told me. I can picture her grieving for the child she lost, for whatever reason unknown to us.

I have said time and again that, for me, adopting Tarana was no less than a direct command from God. He knew her from before the beginning of time. He knew she would lose her birth family and He chose us to give her a new one. He also knew that we needed her. Out of tragedy, God created a family.

Tarana has been home with us over four years now. I labored with her eighteen months between the time we started the adoption process and the day we brought her home.

When she first came home, I was ready to start the process again immediately. My wise social worker advised against this, and she was right. Then two years ago, I wanted to start the process again with a little boy, but that fell through and I haven't made much effort since.

I think it's because I finally feel content. I feel a strong connection with Tarana, and I don't feel like anyone is missing from our family. I have no desire to bring a new life into the world through childbirth, nor do I feel there's a child out there waiting for us to bring him or her home.

My first three years of motherhood were so hard. I experienced something like postpartum depression while Kyle spent the most time raising our new daughter. Everyday was a struggle for me, both at work and at home. The memory makes me think of Mr. Rogers' quote:

"Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun, like struggle."

We needed to solidify our family of three before we could consider bringing another child into our family. When T came home, I couldn't have known we would spend those first three years making a combined income that would have qualified us for welfare, and had it not been for my supplemental RF income, we would have been forced to apply for food stamps. I became so immersed in the demands of the school job I love that I didn't have much left to give to my family. We found ourselves so deep in debt that no foreign agency would approve us to adopt again.

So that's where we were up until about a year ago, but everything is better now. Our finances have improved so we are staying afloat and working on getting out of debt. I have more to give when I come home from work now, so I feel like I can finally be the mom I want to be. I thank God that circumstances kept me from adding to our family when really, I am meant to focus on Tarana. She is God's answer to years of agonizing prayer. Before she was home, I knew she was out there and we needed each other. Now she's home and I don't want to take her for granted.

Tarana is growing so fast. She is an amazing person and I want to treasure every moment I have with her. She's artistic and intelligent. She thinks big thoughts and asks big questions about the world and belief. I love the way she understands Jesus as her Savior and her friend. I love the way she cares for animals and inquisitively explores her surroundings.

I am learning to be a "soccer mom," something I never thought I'd be. I am always exhausted after work, and prefer to stay home, so taking her to soccer practices and games three times a week is challenging for me. But I love to watch her play! She is fierce and powerful and has wonderful sportsmanship. She recently hyperextended her knee during a soccer game, so that meant three weeks of physical therapy instead of soccer practice. I enjoyed going to the PT with her and learning about the way sports affect her body. I never played sports, so this is all new to me!

She's really independent and a huge help around the house, but she still lets me be her mom. I love that she comes to me with all her questions about girl stuff, relationship stuff, and emotional stuff. I feel like we have a strong, deep relationship now. We can talk about anything. She is rarely sick, but when she is, I selfishly enjoy the cuddle time she craves to help her feel better. I love that she asks me to help her study. I love that she asks me to help her with puzzles. The first years she was home, I wasn't able to be as emotionally present as I wanted to be, and I regret that very much. But I have to trust that it was part of God's plan for our lives.

So for now, I am Tarana's Mama. If she turns out to be the only kid who ever calls me mom, I am OK with that. If God has another plan and there's another kid out there who needs to join our family, we will answer that call too. God is good and His plans are perfect. I am so thankful to be Tarana's Mama.

Inconvenient Conviction

I came across this passage while reading a certain adventure novel:

"It isn't necessarily easier if you know what it is you're meant to do - but at least you don't waste time in questioning or doubting. If you're honest-well that isn't necessarily easier, either. Though I suppose if you're honest with yourself and know what you are, at least you're less likely to feel that you've wasted your life, doing the wrong thing."

Coming across this passage in a novel recently, I realized that adoption is possibly the only thing I've ever KNOWN I was meant to do. No doubt about it. The conviction struck me long before we were married, and has never wavered much. I have known that I was meant to adopt. God already had T in mind for me, and me for her. I wonder who else God has in mind for me?

"You've known forever who you are. Do you realize at all how unusual it is to know that?
"It's damned inconvenient...
"To have that passion for anything or anyone. That's quite splendid, and quite rare."

And then it hit me...my desire to adopt IS inconvenient. At this point, we are comfortable. We have a happy home. We're settled in with T. I know that bringing another child into our home would rock the boat.

A former pastor of mine often warned against getting comfortable. Being comfortable in life is dangerous. You forget your need for God. You forget your purpose.

Another friend recently reminded me that adoption is threatening to the Enemy, and so there will be obstacles and surface doubts springing up all the time. There isn't enough money or time for a new child. What if he or she causes problems? Wouldn't it be easier to let life go on as it is? Yes, it would be easier, but nothing worth doing is ever easy. I am thankful for the support of our friends and family to get me through those times and remind me of the Truth.

All this to say...the adoption of our next child is very much present in our plans. We've been slow moving. Some doors seem to have been temporarily nailed shut...but it seems little by little, those obstacles are dissipating.

We have had two fundraisers recently, hosted by two friends who are in direct sales like me. They hosted parties with their businesses, Jamberry and Initials, and donated their commission to our church for our adoption fund.

That's all the news I have for now. I haven't even finished the first grant application. When we were preparing to adopt T, I used to wonder why other adoptive parents weren't frantic like me. Now I understand. Every adoption is different. Some are quick. Some are drawn out. The reasons vary. But God knows.

The Culture Bearer

rolling pin

cookie cutter

We woke up the day before Christmas Eve with nothing on the agenda. I looked at my husband and said, "I feel like I should be doing something Christmasy with her...like baking cookies?" Being the excellent husband he is, and the official maker of food in our household, he looked up recipes so we could bake cookies from scratch. He whipped out some makeshift tools, a Nalgene "rolling pin" and kid cup "cookie cutters" and set up a cookie factory on our kitchen table. There were green-iced sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies...even a few Heath and Reese's cookies. Despite having no butter for the recipes and burning a few batches, the cookies turned out great and we all ate until our tummies ached. 

We've covered all our bases, I suppose. T wore a beautiful Christmas dress and sang in a Christmas program at school. There have been ugly sweaters and Christmas parties. We've exchanged gifts with friends and neighbors, and Santa has been informed of T's wishes. We've made a halfway effort to follow the Advent traditions with candles and prayers and readings found on smartphones at the last minute. This is only my second Christmas being the mama, the culture bearer, and I still wonder if I'm getting it right. Am I giving her the best memories and does she see Jesus in Christmas? Do I see Jesus in Christmas?

I often think what a relief it is to have adopted an older child who has no expectations of the Christmas experience. As far as I know, she doesn't expect to be given a certain number of presents. She probably couldn't list off the many foods one should expect to find at a Christmas dinner table. She seems open to whatever traditions we throw her way and eager to learn as she goes.

She's still figuring it all out. She asked me the other day why our family doesn't light up and decorate the exterior of our house like some families around town. She wanted to know why it's so important to me to send out so many Christmas cards. She wondered why we would give gifts without expecting to receive gifts in return. She asks about Santa. We have discussed it many times. In some ways, we want her to experience the magic and make-believe of surrounding Santa Claus, but we don't push it. She remembers all those Decembers without Santa.We let her decide for herself.

So, since she's growing up in a subculture of people who can generally buy whatever they want whenever they want it, she won't see any extravagant gift-giving this year. I do hope we can one day show her what it means to meet the real material needs of others.

Tonight, we're worshiping with our church family. Tomorrow morning, we plan to sleep in and let the morning unfold as it will, in hopes that we will all remember Jesus and the Love that came down when He came to dwell among us.

May the love and peace of Christ give you peace in this season of busyness, and may all the mamas remember, as I should, it's not about our adequacy as the culture bearers.  Jesus' grace is sufficient for us and His strength is made perfect in our weakness. May we "treasure up all these things in our hearts."

Baby Fever

A friend texted me today, saying she has baby fever and hopes her birth control will fail so she can have a baby. She asked if I ever feel that way. Well, yes, I do. About once a month, I have to wrestle with the deep reasons in my heart and talk myself back into continuing to use birth control. Because I just can't bring myself to believe that pregnancy is the right path for us. Because there are too many children who aren't wanted. And if I produce another one, what if that means one less child will be adopted into our family because one more child was born into my family?

I don't think that's the answer for everyone. Every child born into this world is a result of God's will. You end up with however many children God has planned for you, one way or another. And if God wills that I give birth at some point, we would rejoice in His will. Nothing is stopping Him from bypassing some silly birth control...as if we're in control.

So many of my friends and family members are expecting babies soon, and I am thrilled for them! I can't wait to cuddle those new babies, knitted together in my friends' wombs. I just really wish all babies born into the world were as wanted and celebrated as these.

I want to bring more children into my family who are unwanted by their biological families. It's a struggle.

Not everyone is called to adopt, but I am.

"Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.'" Matthew 19:15

The Force is Strong with this One - Gotcha Day Anniversary

March 4, 2013

Playing with Dad, October 2013

New Delhi on Gotcha Day, March 2013

 

It's been a year. A whole year since we were given custody of T in India. Today is what the adoption world sometimes calls "Gotcha Day." A year ago today, we rode away from the orphanage for the last time. We stayed one night in a hotel together as a family, and started our long journey home the next morning. 

October 2013

On this day in 2013, we signed the papers, changed her into the first new clothes she'd ever owned, took her to the park to play and ate at a fancy outdoor restaurant, where we took great care to ensure that her meal was strictly vegetarian. We arrived in our hotel room and she asked us, "America?" We ordered room service and she looked at us nervously before digging into her rice. Would we allow her to eat with her hands? We did. She's got some serious rice eating skills. She got her first Barbie doll and snuggled up to me to sleep.

All the while, my husband and I exchanged looks of awe. We still do.

We say "the force is strong with this one." She is a force to be reckoned with. She is powerful.

Goodbye, India! March 2013

She is passionate. She is hilarious. She calls us out. She makes us laugh. She makes us melt. She makes us crazy. She makes us happy.

She's a princess and a warrior. She loves pink and piles on the accessories. She tromps around in the mud and the creek and plays in the rain until she's soaked to the bone. She blows kisses and throws tantrums. She has lots of friends and carries an air of confidence everywhere she goes. She adores teacher and excels in school.

She is so, so smart. She questions everything. She reads our mail. She finishes our sentences. She is musical, always singing.

February 2014

"How do you keep a wave upon the sand?...
How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?
She is gentle! She is wild!
She's a riddle! She's a child!
She's a headache! She's an angel!
She's a girl!"

Just like her Mama. Because,
She's my daughter. Our daughter.
God is good. Thanks be to God.

Last Christmas, First Christmas

Two Christmases ago, we had just received T's referral. Family and friends were seeing her face for the first time.

Last Christmas, everyone was asking when she would be home. In our minds, she was already several months late. We were getting very impatient with India. We would tell people, "maybe next month," and they would say that's what we always said, which was true. Because we never knew.

This Christmas, she's home! Two years after we passed her referral photo around, now she's passing hugs around at family gatherings. She's so affectionate with our extended family, who shower her with generosity and love. She actually feels loved by them, unconditionally, and that's huge for a little girl who has only been home for nine months, who still wonders aloud when we, her new parents, will want to trade her in for another child who is less noisy, more obedient, etc...oh, my dear one.

On Christmas Eve, we celebrated with two other local families who adopted children from India this year. These two families have been with us every step of the way. God brought us all together to raise funds for our adoptions, and though we don't see each other often enough, we are always on call for one another, to talk through the nitty gritty of adoption and compare experiences. It was breathtaking to see all our children under one roof, these children for whom we have all prayed for the past two years. Together with these families, we attended T's first Christmas Eve candlelight service. She knew all the songs, thanks to the months she and her classmates spent preparing for their school Christmas program.


It was lovely to have T all to ourselves on Christmas Day. Just the three of us with our dogs. T was thrilled when I let her uncover her eyes to see her brand new, pink bicycle from her grandparents.
She loved opening presents and was very excited to watch us open the presents she picked out for us at her school Christmas store.

A few days before Christmas, we were able to leave T with her Nanna and her cousins for two nights. We needed that time of quiet and solitude, out in a yurt in the woods with our dogs and a grill. T needed that time to play with her cousins and be spoiled by her grandmother.

We're so thankful for so many blessings this Christmas.
We wish you the peace and joy of Christ, today and always.

"Why You Adopt Me?"

I have learned that sitting around, doing not much of anything is the best way to get T to talk.
We have our best conversations in the car or sitting around the house without electronic stimulation.
The other night, she and I were sitting at the kitchen table. I was addressing Christmas cards and she was doing homework. All was quiet.

Suddenly, she looked up at me and asked, "Why you adopt me?"

My heart leapt to my chest. I looked up and gave her a playful smile, but her face was all seriousness.

I said something like, "Well, your dad and I wanted to adopt a little girl. We prayed and prayed that God would show us the right girl to adopt, and it was you."

T: "No it wasn't. You want just one child? There are lots of one child in India. You can adopt Pooja."(another girl in her orphanage.)

So I told her that we had decided to adopt the first child we were referred to. I told her about the night when we got her referral via email, how we were nervous and excited, how we knew we didn't have enough money, and how the adoption agent told us that if she were to be our child, God would provide the funds. I showed her the email with her photo, and she laughed at how different she looked then. I told her how God HAD provided the money we needed, and how everyone had prayed for her before she came home.

T: "How God give you money! What? It come down from sky?"
T: "How they pray for me? They not know me then!"

I listed names of people who had prayed for her and given money for the adoption. She was skeptical.

A few days later, she "confessed" that the manager of her orphanage was "just kidding" about her age and birthday. She told me her original family name and the date she believes she was born. I told her it didn't matter if she's 6 or 16. We love her. It doesn't matter when her birthday is. We love her. She can choose a date, or we can celebrate the date given by the orphanage, or we can celebrate every month. I told her I'm glad she remembers her family name, and that I would give her a journal in which to write all of her memories of India.

I say she "confessed," because her tone and manner made it seem as if she felt guilty that we were given false information. I told her the orphanage didn't know her family or when she was born, so they just had to guess.

Since then, she has opened up even more with memories of her birth family. Sometimes it seems as if she feels safe opening up to us, and sometimes it seems like she expects us to turn our backs on her if we find out "the truth."

We are thankful to have adopted an older child who remembers so much of her past. It's helpful to know a bit about her first years of life.

In many ways, we are just like her. We wonder why God chose to adopt us, as we are, as His children. We fear that God will one day find out the truth about us and reject us. It may be a long time before T fully grasps God's unconditional love for her. It's still hard for us to understand!

We want her to understand that we adopted her because God adopted us. We want her to know that she will always be our child and we will always love her and keep her, even when life gets tough.

As a side note, she's been teasing me about my muffin-top snacking belly lately. She said, "Maybe you could have a baby in there." I told her I didn't want to have a baby from my belly, because she's my baby and I just want her.