How Adoption Changed My Views--Part 2

When we had Mr. C, he was perfect. Or at least, perfect in our sight. He was a typical first child...smart, early walker, constantly stimulated. We had nothing else to do but shower our boy with love and attention, read to him constantly, do puzzles with him, and help him grow his brain. Being that Superman is a teacher, he had half the year off to spend with our firstborn. I think we crammed more stimulation into that first year than in all the ensuing years combined.

Right before Mr. C turned one year old, J-Man was placed with us. Suddenly, spending unending amounts of time interacting with Mr. C became close to impossible. And I felt pretty guilty for it.

I realized when we got J-Man that he didn't get that same running start that Mr. C did. He had already been in 3 foster homes in his near-six months of life. He had been hospitalized for pneumonia and RSV and had never had anyone sit down and read to him or wrestle with him. And there was an obvious difference between where he was developmentally at 6 months, and where Mr. C had been at 6 months.

And when M-Dog and N came to us, it was even more apparent. They had been removed from their birth parents when M-Dog was 2 years, and N was 5 weeks. They went on to three foster homes before the Lord planted us on their front step. And as I've said before, M-Dog was three by that time. And he didn't speak. So much vital time had passed, and those so-important first few years were thrown by the wayside, never to be had again. N was 13 months when we got her, and was still crawling, only saying "mama" and just behind in general.

Thankfully, we got G at six weeks. She was still young, and had only been in one foster home, so her transition to our home was simple.

So this is what I've learned:

1. It's nearly impossible (or maybe even impossible) to give all our children the same level of undivided attention that our firstborn received.

2. Children adopted out of foster care almost always come with baggage. But, the baggage is so worth carrying. Because seeing your child blossom from the child he or she was into the child he or she is becoming is one of the most rewarding experiences. Ever.

3. I can't expect the same responses and growth out of each of our children. Of course, this would apply if we only had biological children as well, but I believe it's more pronounced in adopted children. These kids each have their own story, their own challenges, their own pains, and their own triumphs. Their pasts have shaped who they are, and I have to flexibly work around those nuances and parent them individually instead of as a group.

It's hard to admit, but there have been times (usually the challenging times), when I have thought to myself, "Man, it would have been so much easier to just have our own biological kids." I know that sounds really bad. I know that every child is unique, and who knows what future children of ours would have turned out like. But, at least I would know where they come from, you know? At least I would know that they were provided for, loved, and given the best I could give them. I won't lie, it's hard to be an adoptive parent. But as I've said before, it's also one of the most amazing adventures.

And it's a perfect illustration of the way our Lord "adopts" us, despite our histories. Despite our shortcomings and failures, He loves us perfectly. And I am so confident that when He sees us blossom, it makes Him giddy with excitement.