This personal account was written and shared by adoptive parent Andy Meyers, Agape Adoption Agency’s Intake & Outreach Specialist.
When you first enter the foster or adoption world as an adoptive parent there is sometimes this (especially among the religious) rescuing or saving mentality for that child. As an adoptive parent who received their daughter through the foster system, you hear things like, “you guys are heroes”, “she’s lucky to have you”, “what an amazing life you can provide for her, more than….” and my favorite, “how blessed she is that you saved her”.
Even though I flew blindly into this way of thinking, I have learned these attitudes are toxic and the antithesis to what being an adoptive parent is.
As an adoptive parent, you are Plan C. No matter what socio-economic level the birth parents are, no matter what is perceived as what they can or cannot provide for them, as an adoptive parent you will never be able to provide what is most critical and that is the origin. A family history. Plan A. Think about it… Many family gatherings are spent reliving tales of this uncle or this great-great-grandmother and as much as you try and work to include your adoptive child into this narrative, there are the DNA ties and origin map that is lacking. When your daughter asks about her birth mother or father and expresses and feels a unique bond with them, even though you think there is no way she could remember, you understand the power of memory down to a cellular and DNA level. And you realize that loss in her little life.
Plan B is similar and that is family members who would adopt a child whose parents are unable to care for them or raise them. They still share genetics and history and family culture.
So, as adoptive parents, we are Plan C. And we press into the pain for the joy that is our Maya. We realize that with the blessing of adoption comes significant, unimaginable loss and we tread into it day after day because of love. We learn by trial and error about her unique culture and race and pray for more friends for her and for us where she doesn’t feel like the only child of color in the room. We hold her during the night terrors mostly all centered around losing things and loss and are heightened during times where her adoption is highlighted. We work for the restoration of her sense and knowledge of self and family that doesn’t fear abandonment but realize the journey is long and slow and wasn’t fixed when a judge says her last name is now my last name.
We love her.
She is our daughter.
This system is broken.
We are broken.
She is broken.
She is being restored.
We are being restored.
Together, in love and because of love we move forward one day at a time knowing that we live in the now/not yet of seeing all things restored.
