Mothers

Day #3, June 28

Well, today is the big day! I am trying really hard to keep my excitement at bay. We don’t know exactly what will happen, but Wayne feels they won’t let us have Leelee until tomorrow. I agree, but I had better be prepared. I figure the office will be open around 8am, so I probably have a couple of hours. Ugh!

A letter from an adoptee

For most of my life, I hadn’t thought about my birth parents: where I came from, who they were, or why they had chosen to give me up. For me, the only thing that mattered was that I had parents who loved me and who chose to be my parents.

When I met my biological father just over three years ago, I was overwhelmed by his reaction to reconnecting with me. He spoke as though he had known me and loved me for my entire life—this “stranger” who hadn’t crossed my mind even once as I had transitioned through childhood and into my adult years.

Take this quiz, developed by Speak-Out Youth members April and Courtney, to see what kind of family is the right fit for you!

Question 1

You’ve just come from a long day at school. What would you like to come home to?

a) Lots of brothers and sisters jumping off the walls and inviting you to play.
b) Your mom and dad waiting for you, ready to go on a bike ride.
c) Your mom, cooking dinner, ready to hear all about your day.
d) An after-school snack of homemade cookies while you do your homework with your siblings and wait for your dad to come home.

It’s been hard to see my things destroyed, my personal space obliterated and my patience shattered.

It’s been an adjustment to keep up with multiple appointments, lack of information and countless phone calls.

It’s been a struggle to not ask too much, push too hard or back off too far.

We’ve been through nightmares, perfect days and everything in between.

I’ve loved being able to snuggle you, tickle you and tuck you in every night – even though you’re not so little.

I’m amazed at how you’ve grown in such a short time – so much more than just height.

When I was four
I met my Mother
She opened a door
unlike no other
A Mother’s Day means to me
It fills my heart with happiness
For each and every day will be
A forever love
endless food
camping trips
years of memories
tons of pictures
traveling to far off places
swimming
going to oceans
my Mother’s Day
our journey
cooking and baking
Mountains and hiking
biking and quading
tucking me in at night
helping me with my science project
cutting my hair and my nails
my mother is like no other in the world

Family camps can be highly motivating and empowering experiences for families (Lewicki, Goyette, & Marr 1996) and can act as a tremendous catalyst for forming healthy attachments in a family system.

When my kids struggle or act out, my antennae are always up for what might be below the surface of an issue. All parents do this, right? But wow, do adoptive parents ever have to bring their whole brain to it, using use their  x-ray vision to see right down to the bone.

Here are two stories that illustrate the “below the surface” concept that amazes some of my friends who have little experience with adoption.

Most days, as I push our stroller up a hill loaded with my son and a week’s supply of groceries and feel the muscles in my arms and legs working, I am reminded of the total body workouts I used to enjoy at my local gym.

Not that long ago I lived a very different life, one that included a husband, and a charming little house that we  owned on a tree-lined street, a fulfilling full-time job, a fun fashion part-time job, volunteer work as a board director for two companies, four weekly gym workouts, and a circle of friends for dinner parties and occasional travel.

In her creative non-fiction essay “The Letter,” J. Jill Robinson writes about how she reunited with her birth son,  David. He was married and himself an adoptive father when David and Jill found each other. We sat down with her to find out more about her experience as a birth mother in reunion.

Before I got to know both sides of Victor’s birth families, I had a firm opinion about open adoption. I thought it  was the only way to adopt, and it would help our child with his sense of identity and belonging.

Open adoption was better for the birth families, and our lives would be deepened by these new family members. In my cushy fantasy, I’d have a close relationship with the birth mother, and her family would be our family. We’d  snap group photos at graduations, pop corks at weddings, and sniffle as new kids came along for the birth  parents.