Nothing to See Here

Adoption. My family was assembled, like millions of others, through adoption.

Race. My kids are a different race than myself and my husband.

My kids are now 13 and 9. The topic of adoption is an open subject in our household. We talk about it often and openly. I have said this before but it's worth noting again--if we don't encourage it as an open topic now, it will be a scary topic when the hard questions come.

That time is coming closer, by sheer numbers. All the experts tell us that come the early teen years, the hard questions from adoptees start. I am not afraid of them. I am anticipating them.

They begin to arrive because of the maturing process. Suddenly the larger picture is realized. Not only is adoption a great thing, but in that amazing situation of adoption comes a great loss. The questions will have a sad nature, a grieving nature. That is what the experts tell us.

I'm ready. I really am. My kids know their birth/adoption stories. When one asks for me to tell theirs, of course, the other wants me to tell his. I am happy to supply the details. It's an interesting process. As they get older, I can supply details that more mature minds can handle. I wonder if my adding some of those thoughts and feelings have staved off the hard questions. That would be nice.

As I tell their stories, they like hearing them. They like that each story is very different, yet similar. They like the details. I haven't told the stories recently. I also don't tell the stories in great detail to anyone else. I tell summaries to friends. The stories are for them to tell. It's their life. Not mine. It's part of who they are and part of their identity. That is sacred stuff.

Enjoying a baby fix with my friend's foster child. To hold a sleeping baby....so sweet!

So we move along...

The awareness my kids have that they are a different race has been there but they are now starting to understand that others notice our race is different. We've done a pretty good job teaching them to have a sense of humor about things. I have to say, they crack me up.

A friend of mine is a foster parent. She generally has one or two foster kids at a time, plus she is an adoptive mom of a sweet teenage young lady. We were talking about one of her past kids she had that "looked" different than her. I can't remember what the distinction was, but she said, "....everywhere you go, people notice you're different." I chuckled and said, "I know what you mean." She looked at me and suddenly realized, "Oh that's right!" She is so used to seeing our kids, and our family, as they are...she had done what we did years ago--forgot about race. I absolutely cherish those moments. They give me hope.

I never say never to ever adopting again. It is something that certainly doesn't just fall in your lap. One must pursue it, want it, defend the idea of it, and work for it. Someday it may happen again.

There is always love and always a kid who desperately needs it. It is always an option in our home.