Open letter to a mother of an adopted child

I had this letter saved in my drafts from three years ago and for some reason never published it.  I read through it and wanted to share. xoxo

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Dear Mom of an Adopted Child,

I met you in adoption education class. I met you at the agency. I met you at my son’s school. I met you online. I met you on purpose. I met you by accident.

It doesn’t matter. The thing is, I knew you right away. I recognize the fierce determination. The grit. The fight. Because everything about what you have was a decision, and nothing about what you have was easy. You are the kind of woman who Makes.Things.Happen. After all, you made this happen, this family you have.

Maybe you prayed for it. Maybe you had to convince a partner it was the right thing. Maybe you did it alone. Maybe people told you to just be happy with what you had before. Maybe someone told you it simply wasn’t in God’s plans for you to have a child, this child whose hair you now brush lightly from his face. Maybe someone warned you about what happened to their cousin’s neighbor’s friend. Maybe you ignored them.

Maybe you planned for it for years. Maybe an opportunity dropped into your lap. Maybe you depleted your life-savings for it. Maybe it was not your first choice. But maybe it was.

Regardless, I know you. And I see how you hold on so tight. Sometimes too tight. Because that’s what we do, isn’t it?

I know about all those books you read back then. The ones everyone reads about sleep patterns and cloth versus disposable, yes, but the extra ones, too. About dealing with attachment disorders, breast milk banks, babies born addicted to alcohol, cocaine, meth. About cognitive delays, language deficiencies. About counseling support services, tax and insurance issues, open adoption pros and cons, legal rights.

I know about the fingerprinting, the background checks, the credit reports, the interviews, the references. I know about the classes, so many classes. I know the frustration of the never-ending paperwork. The hours of going over finances, of having garage sales and bake sales and whatever-it-takes sales to raise money to afford it all.

I know how you never lost sight of what you wanted.

I know about the match call, the soaring of everything inside you to cloud-height, even higher. And then the tucking of that away because, well, these things fall through, you know.

Maybe you told your mother, a few close friends. Maybe you shouted it to the world. Maybe you allowed yourself to decorate a baby’s room, buy a car seat. Maybe you bought a soft blanket, just that one blanket, and held it to your cheek every night.

I know about your home visits. I know about your knuckles, cracked and bleeding, from cleaning every square inch of your home the night before. I know about you burning the coffee cake and trying to fix your mascara before the social worker rang the doorbell.

And I know about the followup visits, when you hadn’t slept in three weeks because the baby had colic. I know how you wanted so badly to show that you had it all together, even though you were back to working more-than-full-time, maybe without maternity leave, without the family and casseroles and welcome-home balloons and plants.

And I’ve seen you in foreign countries, strange lands, staying in dirty hotels, taking weeks away from work, struggling to understand what’s being promised and what’s not. Struggling to offer your love to a little one who is unsettled and afraid. Waiting, wishing, greeting, loving, flying, nesting, coming home.

I’ve seen you down the street at the hospital when a baby was born, trying to figure out where you belong in the scene that’s emerging. I’ve seen your face as you hear a nurse whisper to the birthmother that she doesn’t have to go through with this. I’ve seen you trying so hard to give this birthmother all of your respect and patience and compassion in those moments—while you bite your lip and close your eyes, not knowing if she will change her mind, if this has all been a dream coming to an abrupt end in a sterile environment. Not knowing if this is your time. Not knowing so much.

I’ve seen you look down into a newborn infant’s eyes, wondering if he’s really yours, wondering if you can quiet your mind and good sense long enough to give yourself over completely.

And then, to have the child in your arms, at home, that first night. His little fingers curled around yours. His warm heart beating against yours.

I know that bliss. The perfect, guarded, hopeful bliss.

I also know about you on adoption day. The nerves that morning, the judge, the formality, the relief, the joy. The letting out of a breath maybe you didn’t even know you were holding for months. Months.

I’ve seen you meet your child’s birthparents and grandparents weeks or years down the road. I’ve seen you share your child with strangers who have his nose, his smile … people who love him because he’s one of them. I’ve seen you hold him in the evenings after those visits, when he’s shaken and confused and really just wants a stuffed animal and to rest his head on your shoulder.

I’ve seen you worry when your child brings home a family tree project from school. Or a request to bring in photos of him and his dad, so that the class can compare traits that are passed down, like blue eyes or square chins. I know you worry, because you can protect your child from a lot of things — but you can’t protect him from being different in a world so intent on celebrating sameness.

I’ve seen you at the doctor’s office, filling out medical histories, leaving blanks, question marks, hoping the little blanks don’t turn into big problems later on.

I’ve seen you answer all of the tough questions, the questions that have to do with why, and love, and how much, and where, and who, and how come, mama? How come?

I’ve seen you wonder how you’ll react the first time you hear the dreaded, “You’re not my real mom.” And I’ve seen you smile softly in the face of that question, remaining calm and loving, until you lock yourself in the bathroom and muffle your soft cries with the sound of the shower.

I’ve seen you cringe just a little when someone says your child is lucky to have you. Because you know with all your being it is the other way around.

But most of all, I want you to know that I’ve seen you look into your child’s eyes. And while you will never see a reflection of your own eyes there, you see something that’s just as powerful: A reflection of your complete and unstoppable love for this person who grew in the midst of your tears and laughter, and who, if torn from you, would be like losing yourself.

Kathy Lynn Harris

ROOF updates- and a heartfelt request

SO much has been going on behind the scenes with Russian Orphan Opportunity Fund, and it is extremely exciting!  In a previous post I shared about prospects of helping Bobrovsky, an orphanage in Lina's region also for children ages 4-17 with disabilities.  Georgia, ROOF's director, is building a beautiful relationship with the staff, and we are hoping to get volunteers there in the near future.  We will be raising funds soon for a van to transport the volunteers out to the remote location.  More on this orphanage in a moment....

Another wonderful project ROOF has begun is a Post-Orphanage Center in this same region- an amazing opportunity for those who have aged out of the orphanage to find education and job skills training.  I was ecstatic to hear that our dear sweet adoption facilitator, Marina, was hired as the Center's director!! I knew she would be absolutely perfect for the job as she has such a huge heart for the orphans, and she has now finally found meaningful work since the adoption ban took effect several years back.  She is doing wonderful things for these individuals. You can read all about the Center HERE.

Back to Bobrovsky.... Georgia has asked the director about their needs and how ROOF can help financially before we get feet on the ground.  We provided them medical supplies last Spring, and now they have a more heartfelt request.

The nannies have already begun collecting their own money, but they need our help.... I am going to share my dear friend and fellow ROOF Board Member's words here:

Children who die as orphans rarely receive more recognition in death than they did in life. But sometimes the women who care for them every day are exceptional. They see these lost orphan lives as equal to those of non-orphans. The caregivers from a rural, older-child, special-needs orphanage in Pskov, Russia are just these kind of women. They have reached out to our organization, The Russian Orphan Opportunity Fund (http://eng.roofnet.org/), to ask if we would help them honor these precious lives by purchasing grave crosses for them.

Over the years, 60 children have been buried in a small plot next to the local cemetery in the town nearest the orphanage. Their graves have been marked with simple, temporary wooden crosses and a number. The caregivers who knew their names want more for these children than the decaying wooden markers. They have donated money themselves and started a small fundraiser, but cannot cover the $20 (about 1000 rubles each) to give permanent markers to each grave. They would like to mark each grave with a simple metal cross personalized with each child's name.

The only tears shed for these children have been from the few nannies who knew them. If we accomplish this goal, we will list here the first names of each of these children, who came and left this world without knowing the love of a family, children whose faces we will not see this side of heaven. They are worthy of our tears. They were forgotten in life, but we can remember them through this Corporal Work of Mercy.

Please join us if you feel lead to do so- so far we have raised $500 of our $1200 goal. I am confident we can get there.  You can donate directly to this fund HERE. All money goes directly to ROOF and your donation is tax-deductible.  Once funds are raised, those who are participating in the Post-Orphanage Center will be volunteering their time to place the crosses and clean up the cemetery.  This cause is meaningful to them as well, knowing it could have been their name on that cross.  There is a good chance they may have known some of these children. 

If you feel lead to donate on a more regular basis, we are looking for monthly donations as well. Also tax-deductible, you can set up a one-time or recurring donation HERE.  Y'all know how near and dear this cause is to my heart.... please consider making a donation in honor of Lina or any other loved one.  I feel absolutely grateful that she is not one of those buried in the cemetery since she benefited from ROOF's wonderful work.  If we continue to give, fewer children will need to be buried here. Instead, they can receive more adequate care and perhaps move on to the Post-Orphanage Center where they can learn how to be more productive members of society and live a more meaningful and independent life. Please join me. xoxo

Down syndrome camp!!

Whew, we have had a crazy couple of weeks since school let out! School ended for our kiddos on June 9th, and the following Monday is when Down syndrome camp began. If you are new to us, we have been attending DS camp for the last five years, and it is absolutely AMAZING.  It is run by a church up in PA which is a 45 minute drive for us each way, but SO worth it.  It is held from 6-8:30 pm for one week which is exhausting but flies by at the same time.

This lady was the performer the first night, and I cannot remember her name. Oops! She had a little animal show, but it was more comical and catered to the younger crowd.  Here she is holding a little hedgehog. :)

The theme for most of the night was bubbles, and here Lina is painting bubble wrap to make a beautiful print!  

Lina enjoyed making big bubbles outside as well. :)

Our second night was magic night!  Here are a couple pics from the opening songs we did each night- Evan was really into it this night! He kept running up to get hugs from the girl in the red below ;)

Lina getting her groove on

And tonight's performer- a real magician! He did a lot of cute tricks and even had a rabbit and a dove!

Kaylin volunteered this year and was helping outside with games all week. 

Justin lived in the bounce house all week pretty much.... knowing this is his last year since it is marked for ages 12 and under ;)

Evan bounced between that and the train all week aside from a couple fun activities here and there.

He did enjoy this "disappearing box"- there was a flap in the back to escape out of and he enjoyed running through over and over :)

And then there was the carnival ride......

I was a little apprehensive about how Evan would handle it as he has never ridden any kind of amusement ride before.  Would he stay seated or decide to try to get off while the ride is in motion? Well the boy was obsessed and could not WAIT to get on...

... and he LOVED it!!

Once his turn was over he did NOT want to get off, nor did he want to wait for another turn!

Night #3 was a bit chaotic for me since the boys and girls were split.... The girls were inside for a princess tea party and sooo much work went into this! They had a full three course meal and lots of special appearances by several different princesses.  Lina was in LOVE with Elsa and didn't want to let her go.

 Our delicious meal with all sorts of fancy finger foods and desserts!

photo booth op with the princesses

making jewelry

Meanwhile, the boys' activities were outside and had all sorts of cool stuff!!  There were motorcycles lined up for the kids to sit on....

super cool construction inflatables...

a little cabin to paint

Evan checking out one of the bikes.... cool dude!

Lina came out to see what was going on and had a lot of fun too!

Meanwhile, Evan got a ride around the parking lot!

Lina braving the super slide- I was soooo worried about this one. She is super afraid of heights and often will freeze up refusing to go up or down.  Well she went right to it!

over and over....

and over again!

Night #4- bird night!!

Super cute bird show in which all the birds are rescues :)

Lina and Evan chilling with Evan's super awesome buddy of six years and counting- Mr. Troy!

The umbrella cockatoo had fun dancing!

This macaw did a lot of super cute tricks including playing basketball...

putting rings on a peg...

and putting money in a piggy bank :)

After the show the kids had the opportunity to hold several birds at one time! Lina was super brave!

Outside, finally got a good shot of Evan on the train- he is getting more and more difficult about cooperating for the camera. You can tell he enjoyed a bright blue snowball before this ride. ;)

And finally... the last night of camp.... out came the parachute!!

Lina had a blast as usual :)

And then there is Evan's version of parachute fun.... 

sitting on it and chucking the balls :-P

Lina also gave her hand at putt-putt

And in DS camp tradition- the last night is puppet show night!  I look forward to this every year just as much as the kids!! It is super amazing.

These photos are awful and don't give it any justice- the show is in the dark with black lights shining on the awesome puppets- many of them 6 feet tall!

It is all choreographed to music, and here is a small sampling...

And while all the other music is new, the finale is always the same.... <3 and you can hear one little boy singing along enthusiastically! ;)

And that's a wrap for DS camp 2017!!