6/15/2012

Anti-Adoption

People are "Anti-Adoption" you say?   Yes, indeed.  I've begun to follow some Anti-Adoption Advocates on Twitter and Facebook.  


Some anti-adoption advocates call adoptive parents vultures, preying on innocent birthmothers.  Although, they say, vultures at least are loyal and caring.  We adoptive parents, they say, are more alike to hyenas.Some say that we are white oppressors buying black children.  They say that this is a socio-econominc issue; wealthy people are exploiting the economic vulnerability of birth parents.




@TransracialEyes tweets things like this:  @wcfmag @bcadopt We're not frickin' dogs in a pound. Have a little bit more empathy, could you please? #AdoptionHyenas


I recently tweeted that we had our first visit with M's biological family and that relinquishment sucks.  (I was, for the record, referring to how difficult this is for biological family.)  This is what he said to me:  @deanna_rolffs Sucks for you or for the real mother? Give the child back and help the mother with her needs if you are so upset.



Ouch.  
(Yeah, lots of assumptions there.  And major misunderstanding of my tweet.)


He asked me why we adoptive parents "exalt" ourselves so:  @deanna_rolffs The ? remains: Why broadcast something so private and (as you say) so painful? Why do APs exalt themselves so?


Really great question, @TransracialEyes.  Really great question.



At first, I get defensive.  I want to explain that Nichole, Mica's birth mother, chose us.  That she said to us last month "it doesn't make a good story, for anyone else, that we are happy with this situation." 




No one forced her to make this decision.  (Right?)  We aren't adoption hyenas.  (Are we?) They don't know us.  They don't know how much we love Mica!  They don't know how much we worry for him, desire for him all that is wonderful, and have the highest hopes in the world for him.  Believe me, I know that I'll never replace his biological mother (nor would I want to; I love her!); but I am his mother nonetheless.



Don't take it personally," you may advise. 

I should "quit reading that stuff," you might think.


Then I read/hear more about the stories of some anti-adoption advocates.  The pain of relinquishment.  The excruciating heartache of not knowing anything about your biological history, your biological family.  Not knowing why you were relinquished.  Being taunted by children saying that "your real mom gave you up."  Not knowing (for sure) that your biological family does love you.  





Kevin and I watched the movie Adopted this past week.  It was heart wrenching.  Please watch it if you know anyone who has been adopted.  It tells the story of an adult woman who was born in Asia and adopted by a white family.  She is a successful educator.  Yet she overcompensates for attention.  She is fearful to the core of abandonment (again).  As a child, she was taunted by children for her uniqueness; the issue of racism never was broached by her parents.  She was alone in her family; even though her family loves her.  Alienated unintentionally, but alienated nonetheless.



This woman loves her parents; her parents love her.  “Daddy," she says.  "I have had to conform to everything in this culture and in our family.  It’s time for you to conform.  If you truly love me, you will learn about my biological culture.  You will advocate for every little Asian girl in this country.”  (My paraphrasing.)  So she took him to an Asian restaurant and he pretty-much refused to eat food with which he was not familiar.  Tortorous.  To.  Watch.  




She asked her mother how she felt about her birth mother.  Her mom said she “never thinks about her” and that she “doesn’t care.”  That "some people aren’t meant to be mothers." The daughter says “how can you say this about her.  I am part of her.”  And the mother says “I don’t want to share you.”  I want to scream that adoptive parents ALWAYS share their children with birthparents, whether they are present or not, whether they want to or not.  An adoptive child NEVER forgets that s/he has dual families.  Why should any adoptive parent get the luxury of making it about them and not their child when it comes to relinquishment? Adoption is not about us, the adoptive parents!



My transracial adoption education is rooted in the work of Rhonda Roorda, an adult transracial adopee.  She wrote 
In Their Own Voices: Transracial Adoptees Tell Their Stories. I am reminded that adoption stores are as different as we all are.  Adoptee experiences are unique. Birthparent experiences are unique.  Sibling experiences of adopted children are unique.  And, yes, adoptive parent experiences are unique.  (But there has to be more that we can "fix" in this system!)


Some adoptive parents exploit children or harm them (purposefully or not).  Abuse and neglect seemingly abound.  Some adoptive parents don't educate themselves.  Some adoptive agencies are only in it for the money.  I feel the fire of rage.  I think from their perspectives and I am horrified.  I hear their stories and I'm sick.
I hear other parents call their adoptive children ABANDONED.  I don't know why you would you say that? I wonder if they know that for sure?  Isn't that a private part of your child's story (if it is true)?  What does that communicate to your child about the one(s) that birthed him/her?   And it raises some great questions:  What should be private in adoption?  And what is public, for all to see?  





Let's prevent this from happening.  Ever. Again.




Why is there so much misunderstanding and villification of birthmothers/fathers? 
Adoption and relinquishment go hand in hand.  They are two sides of the same coin.  One side beautiful; one side horrific.  Adoption is always borne out of pain, loss, lack-of-something very significant.


Being called pimps and traffickers of adoption is painful.  I choose to take these interactions as opportunities to learn. 


I have many more questions than answers.  How can we impact the injustices of international and domestic adoption?  Is there any hope?  How are we contributing to the injustice?  How can we educate (potential) adoptive parents to respect, love, honor and involve birthparents?
There is much brokenness in need of justice.  In all of this, we, Mica's biological and adoptive families, love, respect, hope, dream and wish for him all that is good, blessed, right and lovely.  He deserves no less.  No child deserves any less.  May he be blessed and always know that he is loved.  Sadly enough, no, love is not enough in adoption.  

As an educator, this quote hangs in my office.  "Act as if every child were your child."  -Anonymous. 


As a mother, I identify with this Washington Post article A letter from a black mother to her son.  "That, my son, is my hope for you. I hope your teachers will love you for who you are and the promise of what you’ll be." 



Thanks for joining me in this journey.  Struggling, analyzing, thinking and learning.


Photo sources:

2/08/2012

Where Do We Go From Here?

Where do I take this blog from here?  It began as a way to communicate with family and friends, some that that live far from us, to share our family's adoption story.  Growing In The Family Way became a suprising cathartic forum for emotions, thoughts and feelings about waiting to adopt.

Now we have sweet Mica.  Our son.  Malia's brother.  Grandson.  Cousin.  Beloved.

Now we know Nichole.  Mica's birthmother.  Nichole's sisters.  Open adoption. 

We have what we had been seeking.  We are at peace in a way we haven't been before.

Now we have a multiracial family.  Before Mica, race could slide to the background for our family.  Now it's in the forefront.  We embrace this change, but are cautious about navigating it in a country where race-relations, civil rights and equity seem, some days, so incredibly broken.  Wholeness and true acceptance of differences can be so elusive.

We still live in the same home, the same city. Malia goes to the same school.  We go to our same church home. 

But we are sssoooo different than we were 13 short weeks ago.  In so many ways.

Isn't this what life is?  To be open (or sometimes go kicking and screaming) to transformation.  To embrace the change.  To enjoy this life and fully be present for all it has to offer.  Isn't it? 

But it hasn't always been this way.  Years of heartwrenchingly painful infertility.  Five babies miscarried.  Many, many long months waiting to adopt.  Wondering if it would ever happen.  Watching other families grow, while it felt that ours just experienced more pain, loss, waiting and wondering. 

Hoping.  Praying.  Crying.  Stomping.  Anger.  Joy.

I think this blog could still be useful.  I think I have more than a few things to share.  Lord knows I have a TON to learn. 

But I'm not quite sure yet if I'm prepared to share them in such a public forum.  Opening my soul to the world makes me feel naked on the street corner.  Just a tad exposed. 

These are the issues I'm grappling with and learning about:  facets of grief and joy, transracial adoption, learning to be a multiracial family, thoughts and feelings about open adoption, and working outside the home while parenting young children.  Just to name a few.

I trust I'll figure it out.  And in the meantime, we'll walk through this messy life with arms wrapped around eachother, praying for God's continued guidance through the pain and joy.  And I'll probably share my musings, when they bubble to the surface.  When I'm brave enough.


May love, joy and peace be yours.

~D

12/10/2011

Home Sweet Home


We're HOME!  We're HOME!  We're HOME!

We received word late on Tuesday that we could come home.  We've spent splendid moments together, as a family. 

We are beyond blessed. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Here's Mica sleeping in his OWN BED!  Isn't he sweet?


The first night at home, I couldn't sleep.  Tears rolled down my cheeks (and into my ears; I was on my back).  My joy was so palpable.  Firework-light-up-the-whole-world's-sky-joy.

12/03/2011

Love Song

Welcome to my random-thoughts blog post.

When I struggle
I remember what I love,
what motivates me,
feeds my spirit and
keeps me keepin' on.


Music is a salve, a balm and a connector, motivator and spirit-lifter.
Sara Bareilles - Love Song



I've been away from home for four weeks. Thats 28 days. 17 of those away from Malia. 24 of those days I've been with Mica! Eight of those days with Kevin.  We hope that Mica and I can go home sometime this week.  Clock ticks slowly.




Sandy hawks perched on telephone poles,
brown harvested corn fields,
frolicking calves journeying home through fields and
laundromats
comfort me.
(Yes, that is Mica helping me with laundry.)





I love how technology connects us, even while distance separates us.

I'm thankful for welcoming churches and inspired pastors. Grace Chicago has been an important, comforting landmark in this journey.

I'm thankful God transcends space. We humans are so impacted by space, those we are close to and far away from. Environmental space impacts mood. Warm, yellow sun rays stream brightly through window panes on balmy December days.


Museums are a God-send.  Packed full of information, animals, fish, stories, data. Wearing Mica in a sling as he quietly, happily grunts with each step I take.
T-Rex skeleton,
Sudanese culture made real,
Egyptian tomb with heiroglyphics,
thousands of North American birds
Woodpeckers
Herons
awkward seahorses,
sleek dolphin skin;
all endlessly fascinating.
Help to occupy my mind and distract me from longingly, aching for Malia's chirping questions, bright eyes, silly sideways glances and endless laughter.  Distracting me from longing for a dear friend's embrace, for Kevin's listening ear and comforting presence.
(Yes, that's Mica peacefully sleeping as I meet Sue the T-Rex.)


Grocery stores,
neatly organized aisles,
crisp displays,
exotic and mouth watering tapenades,
bright fruits and crunchy vegetables,
velvety chocolates,
yeasty bread and
creamy hummous
all bring a simple order to a unfettered existence.



Family and friends provide community. I was painfully reminded four short weeks ago that not everyone is blessed with this community: authentic, kind, supportive, joyful, listening.
Faithful.
Thank you God for unbelievably good people that make me want to be a better person,
tread more carefully on this planet,
support those in need,
show compassion, joy, love
and make me thankful to be raising children in this world.

Peace.
Hope to see ya'll soon!

11/29/2011

Upside Down


Things are a little Upside Down, and we are doing really well!  


Nichole, Mica's birth mother, signed a Designated Surrender of parental rights on Monday.  (Designated meaning she named Kevin and me specifically, and surrender meaning she relinquished parental rights, pending any interaction with Mica's biological father.) 

Mica, Kevin and I will be appearing in court this Thursday to acknowledge the Surrender and to begin the ICPC  process, which allows us to take Mica from Illinois back to Michigan.

We thank you for your prayers for all paperwork to move expeditiously from and to whom it needs to flow, that IL and MI ICPC offices approve and pass on the paperwork quickly and that we get to go home sometime early next week.

I'm so excited to go home, hopefully SOON!  In the meantime I'll suffer through exploring the city with sweet baby Mica!  LOL!

Micah 7:7 (The Message)
 7But me, I'm not giving up.
   I'm sticking around to see what God will do.
I'm waiting for God to make things right.
   I'm counting on God to listen to me. 

Lyrics from Upside Down by Jack Johnson:
Who's to say
What's impossible
Well they forgot
This world keeps spinning
And with each new day
I can feel a change in everything
And as the surface breaks reflections fade
But in some ways they remain the same
And as my mind begins to spread its wings
There's no stopping curiosity

I want to turn the whole thing upside down
I'll find the things they say just can't be found
I'll share this love I find with everyone
We'll sing and dance to Mother Nature's songs
I don't want this feeling to go away

Blessings to you all.
In love,
Deanna

11/22/2011

God of this City


My cousin Dana is in Pattaya Thailand, and here is her blog named "Beautiful Feet."  
Today she writes about this song:
You’re the God of this city 
You’re the King of these people 
You’re the Lord of this nation 
You are 
You’re the Light in this darkness 
You’re the Hope to the hopeless 
You’re the Peace to the restless 
You are 
There is no one like our God 
There is no one like our God 
For greater things have yet to come 
And greater things are still to be done in this city 
Greater thing have yet to come 
And greater things are still to be done in this city
Inspiring.  

11/19/2011

Waiting is the Hardest Part


We are so blessed to share Russ and Alessandra's apartment here in Chicago!  This neighborhood is awesome and walkable.  The apartment is cozy.  Russ' cooking is fabulous.  We are enjoying the little (but big) things in life: laughing at Mica's silly faces, making Play-Doh hotdogs with M.  Living in the present.  And we will be taking a trip to Trader Joe's in a few minutes with TWO children!

We still have no idea how long we will be in Illinois.  Mica's biological dad is considering whether or not he is supportive of the adoption plan.  So we wait.  Yet we fully embrace the present.  We pray for him.  We pray for Mica.  We pray for M and her comprehension of a thing as tough to "get" as this!

We give it up to God over...and over...and over.  Which most of the time isn't hard to do with a joyful four-year-old and a cuddle-bug eight-day-old.

Kevin arrived here last evening and will head back home on Monday.  So my world is even more complete with him here.  I breathe a little easier with my partner close by.

When I feel afraid, want to pull-in and protect, I breathe (sometimes cry) and sing this song:

Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord
We will wait upon the Lord
We will wait upon the Lord

Our God, You reign forever
Our hope, our Strong Deliverer
You are the everlasting God
The everlasting God
You do not faint
You won't grow weary
  
You're the defender of the weak
You comfort those in need
You lift us up on wings like eagles

We thank you, dear friends and family, for your prayers of support, your emails, texts, thoughts, Facebook posts, likes, cards and much more!  Knowing you care and support us makes this dichotomous situation more manageable.  We love you all and are so blessed to be a part of an amazing community.  Thank you.