I recently read an article entitled: “Dear Moms of Adopted Children” by Kathylyn Harris.
Here is her blog: http://www.kathylynnharris.com
It was one of the most powerful things I have ever read. It hit on literally every emotion in my body and pulled my heartstrings like very few other things ever have.
I read it in the car one day to Josh and I literally sobbed through it. Yes, I ugly cried through the entire thing. Josh had to stop me multiple times to say that he couldn’t understand me…ha ha.
For all of you who really know me, you know when I cry, my voice gets really high pitched. It can get quite hard to understand. (I can’t bear to watch my wedding video when I share my vows–cringing to watch me squeak like a 2 year old) I digress…
And once I was done reading it, I looked up to see tears in my husband’s eyes as well.
Powerful. So powerful.
The article I read spoke to and about adoptive moms. The qualities that are present within the adoptive mom community and the hardships and joys they face. I will share more about this later.
But, today I want to talk about dads.
I wanted to write a post about this on Father’s Day, but wow, Josh’s post was so good– I couldn’t take away from it. So, I am deciding to write a post to the adoptive dads out there, which of course includes him and much of my thoughts were inspired by Kathylyn’s posts and my own about Josh.
Wow, are you men such a special group of guys.
Dear Dads of Adoptive Children,
I see you and I recognize you right away. The way you support your wife no matter what. The way you have a determination to be a dad. The way you make things happen.
You may be easy going, but you follow your love’s grit as she fights for your child(ren). You may be the fighter in the relationship. You may have to pull her along in this journey. She may pull you. But you keep your eyes on the prize.
You keep pressing ahead.
Through doubts, fears, insecurities, or infertility.
You have prayed and prayed for children. You of course want to be a dad. But more than anything, you want to see your wife become a mom. You see the tears and the disappointment of failed adoptions, failed pregnancy, failed IVF, just pure failure.
Or maybe you have done this alone. That takes even more strength.
You have wrestled with the thought that maybe you just weren’t meant to be a dad. You could be happy alone right? Or just with your wife. You have a great wife. You have a great life.
You remind yourself of this often.
You have spent so much time and your hard earned money on raising a little one in your family.
You may have a child through foster care.
That means you willingly sign up for immense pain.
But that child(ren) are worth it.
You may have lost all of your life savings on bringing a little one into your family. Others would just say “We can’t afford to adopt”, while you know that somehow you can make a way.
Regardless, your fight and support are so easily recognizable.
You simply don’t give up.
You answer your wife’s questions about possible birth defects, delays, disorders, diapers, money, drug questions, grants, legal questions, etc…
You patiently undergo fingerprinting, reports, background checks, interviews, and homestudies. You allow multiple strangers to know every part of you. You are willing to have multiple fundraisers to make having a child a reality. This is hard for you as a man. It’s hard to ask for financial help.
You humble yourself.
I love how even with all the “stuff” of adoption, this child’s life is still at the forefront of your mind.
This wasn’t about you becoming a dad, but saving a life. Being a dad is just part of it.
I know you soared with elation and fear as you received a call telling you you would be a dad, whether it was for the first time or the fifth time. But, it was hard for you to become excited, as you were wanting to protect yourself from immense heartbreak. You’ve heard of so many of these falling through.
You may have encouraged your wife to baby register and have a baby shower. Or you may have told her to not buy a thing, as you couldn’t bear another thing to “fail.”
You may have flown to foreign countries, stayed in scary places, had to take off tons of time from work–just trusting it would all be taken care of. Others thought you were crazy.
You look at this little baby that was born, or picked up, or dropped off trying to figure out where you belong in this precious one’s life. I’ve seen your face as you are questioning if this little baby really is yours, and if they are, how do you know?
You just don’t know so much.
But that is where you are so strong. You embrace the unknown and trust in the unseen.
And then, to have the child in your arms, at home, that first night. That baby cuddled against you, bonding with you, or not at all. Or that 2 year old that doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. Or that 9 year old that thinks you are taking them away from everything that they’ve ever known.
And you’re supposed to feel good about that?
You remind yourself that you are doing the right thing, even as you see the pain the birth family faces, or doesn’t face.
But, yet, you still keep your eye on the prize. This isn’t about you. This is fighting for a life.
And you know that bond, that joy will come. And even if it doesn’t, you know it will be worth it. For them.
I also know about you on adoption day. The nerves, the attorney, the money, the relief. Ah. Sweet relief. This child is legally yours. Breathe. Just breathe.
You have met your child’s birthparents and grandparents weeks or years down the road. You willingly or not-so-willingly share your child with strangers who have your child’s features, their hair, their nose, that little bump on their toe… people who will forever be a part of your life. Of your child’s life.
You know there will be times when your child is confused and you want to make sure he or she always knows they were loved. You dread those hard conversations.
You know there will be those moments when you can’t tell your child much about their family history. There will be moments where people stick their foot in their mouth and make ignorant comments like, “You must be adopted,” when they do something unlike you or your wife. Kids are just mean.
You want to protect them from every negative comment. Every hurtful look or word.
Everything about having a baby is about “sameness.” “You look so much like your daddy,” or “You have a smile like your momma”, or “Wow, those eyes are your great-grandmothers.” You pray your child can embrace his or her differences.
You silently worry about not knowing much medical history, praying and hoping those unknowns won’t be problems later down the road.
As a man, you may have dreamed of seeing a child made in your own image. Of seeing them have your strong arm, or artistic ability, or musical gifts. Of seeing your reflection in a little being.
While you may never see your reflection in your child’s eyes, you see something even more fierce. A love for someone, who doesn’t have a piece of your DNA, but who is filled with a love so deep and tangible that your reflection just doesn’t really matter.
Instead of seeing a part of yourself, you are able to see this little life for who they truly are. Uniquely created and chosen to be yours. Yes, life is a miracle. Childbirth is a miracle. But adoption- a child birthed from another mother, made from another father, is YOURS. Wholly yours. Wow. Unfathomable.
Many question if the pain and fight is worth it.
You don’t even think twice. Of course it is.
Thanks Dads for fighting for these little lives.
YOU are the most selfless, loving, giving, fierce, compassionate, serving, kind, tenacious men in all the earth.
With love,
Aly