Somewhere, there is a law of questions. When you are dating, the question the world in its entirety asks you is: “So, when are you getting married?” When you are married, it moves to this: “So, when are you going to have a baby?” Apparently, there is nothing detailing appropriate timing with any of these questions because this one in particular can pop up at your wedding reception. When you have had a baby, it is then: “So, when are you going to have another?” And now we come to our current stage in life as a family of four, three of which hold the XY chromosomes, where the question evolves to the following: “So, are you going to go for a girl/number 3/another?”
To the waiting world, the answer is….(drum roll)…YES! We are literally going for the girl. Mike and I are planners to the extreme. This has been the plan for all time, or at least since we met: get married, have a couple of kids on our own if we could, and then ADOPT. In fact, when we were dating, I remember Mike unfolding his plan to me then to see if I would be on board. Sure thing, no problem. I liked kids. I hadn’t scarred any for life yet, that I knew of, so I could do it. Mike, in case you didn’t know, was adopted. The name Beckett is Irish, and though a Beckett, Mike lacks the typical Irish features. He may have fair skin, but he is Korean to the core: big head, loves kimchi, a video game aficionado, good at math & science…ok, I’m kidding, people. Anyways, for him, the reason is simple: he wants to adopt because he himself was adopted. He wants to do for another what he felt was done for him by his parents who provided a caring home and loving family for him who had neither. He feels incredibly blessed and wants to bless another in turn.
For me, I was agreeable to that. I love my husband. I trust his judgment. Sometimes I wondered though. Would I be able to love an adopted child as much as I love my own two flesh and blood? Would I inadvertently show favorites and in any way make an adopted child feel less than? Even if I were to parent perfectly, would she feel differently from her brothers simply by the fact of being adopted and how would that affect her? What if she comes with serious issues, especially attachment disorders that affect her and us for the rest of our lives? On and on.
A few years ago, we hosted an “Adoption Party.” People who had anything to do with adoption in any way were invited to come and hang out. Like Mike, some had been adopted, some had adopted, some were thinking about adopting in the near or distant future, some had worked in the adoption field, and some were just curious. At one point in the party, our good friend, Dana, shared her and her husband’s story and their experience adopting their daughter. I remember that part so well. I remember the feeling of conviction where something enters deep inside of you and takes root. It was subtle but firm. I also remember her sharing the statistic of how out of those who even consider adoption, only a small percentage actually follows through with it. I also remember the references she made to the Bible. God adopted us to be His heirs through the sacrifice of His Son. Though not naturally His, we became a part of His family through the cross. I do her sharing little justice, but I distinctly left that party a changed person. It was not simply going along with my husband. It was legitimately OUR decision and something I afterwards felt that I not only wanted to do, but HAD to do. And not “HAD to do” as in duty or obligation, but because that conviction was rooted enough to be a part of me. It’s who we are: (future) parents of an adoptee.
There is so much more to share in terms of the internal process. As for the externals, we have officially turned in our intent to adopt to both the main agency and the local one that will conduct our home study. Here we go!