Most of you know that we have an unusually open adoption. We
mutually agreed to be open and transparent between the two couples. It was a
great idea in theory but as reality unfolded, I realized the layers of emotions
involved. I have discovered that the relationship between birth parents and
adopted parents changes and evolves over time. There is no cookies cutter
formula to this relationship.
Our relationship started in October 2015. We were all
guarded and on edge. Expectations were not spoken outwardly but they were high
on both sides. We were fearful of rejection and they were fearful of making a
wrong decision. After placement in May 2016 there was anger, confusion and
grief on their parts. They had expectations that we would parent the same as
they had even though they knew in their hearts that it was not the right choice
for our family. We found ourselves circling the wagons to protect Adi but also
I found myself carrying the weight of their grief. I shed many tears over their
broken hearts. I found myself protecting them from knowing the truth of Adi’s
anger and grief. About how it affected his interactions and development. I had
to hide truth from them to protect them from carrying an even heavier burden of
guilt. Most of their interaction was between birth mom and myself. It was many
times harsh, accusatory, and insulting. God walked me through some very long ,
dark days of grief.
Depression and guilt walked with me daily for months. I
watched for weeks on end as Adi rejected
me. He punished me for taking “her” place. I listened as birth mom laid her
grief at my door. I refused to tell her how hard this was for our son. Her
heart could not handle it and I believed God would/was enabling me to carry it
for both of them. The amazing thing about leaning into Jesus…He carries the
heavy stuff. He puts people in your path to encourage you. He is HOPE. At this
time, our birth parents don’t have that HOPE although we pray they will one day
see the gift that could so easily be theirs.
God has used time to soften hearts and heal wounds. We
recently had an almost 2 hour facetime session with our birth parents. It had
been right around a year since we had seen their faces. Since we looked into
each other’s eyes and spoke truth. We all text on a fairly consistent basis but
even those conversations have changed. Birth mom and I had even had phone calls
occasionally and we email updates monthly…but this was different. There was
nowhere to hide from the emotion when you are staring each other down. It was
beautifully hard and all of us walked away from that call exhausted but
rejoicing.
Birth mom had requested a phone call with me around Adi’s
birthday. She needed time to catch up, ask questions on his development and
hear my momma’s heart. Instead I suggested we facetime and get the dad’s
involved. Their hearts needed the exchange as much as ours. The night of the
call we planned for Adi to hang with his sister downstairs. He fought me on it
till I told him who we were going to be talking to and he headed right down. He
is no longer angry but neither is he ready to see them, interact with them, and
give them what they long for. I pray often that he will one day be ready to
extend grace and forgiveness. He must first understand that God has done that
for him.
That conversation between the four of us was healing. We
finally could share Adi’s grief with them and they could face the truth. They
could own and acknowledge the brokenness in all of this. They could also see
how God is making things new. They recognized and acknowledged that Adi is
changing, growing, and advancing beyond where they thought he would be now.
They could see and commented on how happy he is which they had not really seen
in him before. There was a moment in that conversation when I realized that we
now know their son more intimately than they do. That for them, Adi is stuck in
time. He still feels like that little 4 ½ year old that they left in our care over
a year ago.
As we wound down our call, we had a tour of their new home.
A home in which they will continue to move forward and heal. We rejoiced with
them and celebrated the good they are embracing. As Brian and I hung up, we
both talked about how much we craved for the time when we can unite them all
again. When Adi will be ready to see them and it will not harm or disrupt his
development. We hope for the day that they can see Adi as God’s perfect design.
Our relationship has moved from being hard and painful to sharing recipes,
gardening tips, and laughing over Adi’s antics. Only God can do that. Only God
can heal broken and breathe new life into it. Not only that but He delights in
the laughter in our home. He celebrates with us as we see another goal
accomplished. Something as small as being able to completely dress himself to
watching our children giggle and play, HE delights in. Sometimes I imagine my
heavenly Father sitting on his throne, belly laughing with joy at the happiness
in our home. It is not perfect. Our home
is and life is often messy and full of mistakes but it is God’s.
The further we are from that painful day, (the day after
mother’s day), when we signed some papers, I see more goodness than hard. I
recently ran across something that reminded me of our adoption. The Japanese
used to repair their broken art with gold. They viewed it as having even more
beauty once broken and repaired than when it was in its original state. Oh how
our Father must view us the same! The more broken we are, the more beauty he
sees! We run from pain but God just wants us to lean into it and see the beauty
it creates.
