I’ve been feeling stuck for a while now.  I have gone from feeling passionate about blogging, to feeling interested in anything but blogging, to feeling very conflicted about sharing anything at all online.  This left me paralyzed in a sense, and it was a terrible place to live. 

We need to hear the stories of others.  When we open ourselves up to living through an experience with someone else, we are often changed by it.  It may give us courage to see how ordinary people can be used in extraordinary ways.  It may give us pause and help us to anticipate possible pitfalls.  But most importantly, it connects us. 

Sharing this adoption journey has been deeply profound for me and I have loved doing so.  I am incredibly humbled when I sit at the dinner table every night and realize that I get to hear the highlights of my kids’ days and be easily and effortlessly called “mom”.  My hope is to give the reader a small glimpse of the highs and the lows that have been a part of our adoption journey.

It’s really tough, though.  I want to be completely transparent and authentic, but sometimes I feel like these stories are not mine to tell.  Behind every lesson learned is a difficult journey that may include private details that my kids may or may not want shared.  At times I think, “What would my kids think if they read my blog”?  Would they feel their representation is accurate?  Would they feel I changed the details to make the story say what I wanted it to say? 

Another detail that makes our situation every more sensitive is the fact that their biological parents may be out there reading this blog.  Although that scenario is highly unlikely, it often crosses my mind and affects me more than I care to say.

Sorry to work all these details out in this format, but I believe I may not be alone in this feeling.  Others in the online community experience a tension walking the line between giving insight into our lives and over-sharing.  If I am putting something out for others to read I want to actually say something that matters.

So, what is the point of this blog post, you may ask?  Just to let you know that I am trying to get back to writing and I hope that I can, in that, warm a few hearts to the idea of adoption.

You guys have seriously been the greatest.  Your love, your support, and your encouragement mean more than I can say.  Thanks for sticking with me.  You are wonderful.

How Adoption Changed Me- Part 2- What (I Think) I Know About Parenting

Oh, man.  I know it sounds cliché, but I knew so much about parenting before I actually became a parent.  I could have written books with all the knowledge that I had gleaned from years of being a mentor, counselor, and youth worker.  My husband and I were married for nearly 7 years before we adopted and had talked through many of the scenarios that we were certain would come up once children came into the picture. 

While it is fun to daydream and play out those scenarios, almost none of these situations have come up in actual parenting.  I am convinced that is to keep us humble.  I would never have admitted it, but I had parenting pride even though I had not yet become a parent.

When our kids moved in, I treated it like we were at a youth retreat with new students.  I was friendly, funny, warm and tried to get them to feel comfortable.  That is all well and good, but that is not the best way that we should approach parenting.  The first time that a discipline issue arose, I panicked and deferred to my husband.  I liked being the “cool parent”, the laid back one, the one that fixed situations with wise words and reason.  Turns out, that doesn’t always work out the way we think it will.

Please hear me out.  The wisdom that I gained from experience in ministry and through studying God’s word truly was useful for training our kids in righteousness.  We had to rely on God’s spirit to give us wisdom to take those general principles and apply them to meet the specific needs of each situation.

Our adoption classes and experiences failed to teach us how to deal with our son’s fantasized version of his parents.  Having read their files, we knew the truth and it was far from what my son thought.  How should we help bring a child back to reality and speak truth, but not defame his birth mother?  Unfortunately, we didn’t exactly know. 

We explained that every one of our choices has long and lasting consequences.  But, this is where our counselor was able to offer assistance. We still take our kids every few weeks to meet with a Christian therapist even though CPS no longer requires it.  She has an incredible way with words and has a unique ability to help bring about understanding.  Despite what I would wish for, most parenting issues are not solved in a single conversation, but through years of consistency and modeling. 

My husband and I are both growing as parents.  We strive to model Jesus, but generally fall VERY short of that.  We were each fortunate enough to have amazing parents, who always seemed to know the answer and what to do in every situation.  Then it began to dawn on me one day, were they simply faking it?  Our parents seem so wise and experienced, but maybe they were just winging it.  This thought was rocking my world. 

So, what did this planner/people pleaser do? I began to learn to trust more and more in my Heavenly Father to give me wisdom and guidance.  I also learned that every parent out there (for the most part) is trying to raise their best kids that they can.  We all fall short.  EVERY. LAST. ONE. 

This profound thought can either overwhelm or empower.  I try to choose to take that extra moment before speaking, take a deep breath in and ask God for help.  And surprisingly (well, not really), God provides. 

I pray that as you consider entering this road less traveled, you enter with caution and humility.  Find a support network, spend serious time in prayer, learn from more experienced parents, and most importantly understand that when (not if) you fail, you join the ranks of every other parent ever.  Pray for God’s forgiveness and ask your child for forgiveness as well.  In order to be used by God for big things, He must increase and we must decrease. 

Hair & Humility

Let me just start by saying that hair, especially African American hair, can be surprisingly divisive.  Heated arguments can spring up with this topic, so I hope that you read these words as me simply being open and honest about our road with adoption.  I want to be real and authentic and to let others know how they can prepare for this potential aspect of adoption.

I am a low-maintenance kind of girl.  I prefer the way that low-maintenance sounds over lazy and slightly disheveled.  My hair stays mostly in a ponytail and when, by chance, it is styled, I have exactly two styles: straightened and curled.  All that to say, when I found out we were adopting an African American girl, I was more than a little bit overwhelmed.

When my daughter moved in, her hair was in braids with extensions.  I thought that I had dodged a bullet and had some time before I had to do anything with her hair.  The kids’ caseworker, as well as our caseworker, both African American women, informed me in no uncertain terms that her hair needed some serious attention right away. 

I began to come to a tough realization that I couldn’t even tell when her hair was unacceptable.  Crap!  And, apparently I was not alone in this.  My Caucasian girl friends thought her hair was cute and 100% okay.  I felt defeated and I had not even started my journey as a parent. 

So I began to seek out help from my African American females friends.  Thank the Lord for them and their patience.  Sometimes I didn’t even know what questions to ask, but they helped me along the way.  They were kind and understanding.  They replied to frantic texts.  I cannot thank them enough.

I remember calling a dear friend to come help me take out her braids that first time.  She showed up at my house with a bag full of products and a wealth of knowledge.  She was so gentle and tender as she taught me how to wash my daughter’s hair, and I could almost cry when I think of how much that helped. 

An important part of adopting, especially when adopting from another race, is to practice humility.  There was so much to learn: from products to use, how often to do what, and how to style her hair.  It can be overwhelming, but you need to have a support network and you need to be humble enough to ask for their help.  Self-sufficiency and pride must be checked at the door.

And, a plead to the African American mamas (or biracial, etc.) out there who see us Caucasian mamas struggling.  Please offer us a helping hand…and PLEASE offer some encouragement.  You have had women along the way that helped you to learn, so please pay it forward.  We need to hear your advice and to learn from you, but we also need to hear we are doing okay.  We need to know that you are there as a resource.  Offer to do a friend’s daughter’s hair.  Take her to the beauty shop and help her to get comfortable.  Show her the salon or friend you use to do your hair.  All of these things mean so much to a novice.

I say all of things not to overwhelm, but rather to encourage.  The vast majority of the time, I do Z’s hair myself, mostly for the sake of time and cost.  If I can manage, I promise you can as well.  That time spent washing and styling hair can become a bonding time between mothers and daughters.  This does not mean every time is easy and effortless.  I learned early on that my daughter needs routine and she needs to know when her hair will be washed, how it will be styled, and how long it will take.  Structure and predictability are keys to success.

We pray that she knows that she is deeply loved and that her hair is not a burden, but rather a blessing from the Lord.  We pray that her hair is not the source of her beauty, but that her beauty comes from within.  We pray that our daughter learns to not only embrace, but to celebrate the hair that God has given her.  Thank you, Lord, for entrusting us with such a precious child.  We are so thrilled to know her.

A great resource to check out:

www.chocolatehairvanillacare.com