Ty's 10th Month

Boy do I miss you! I have never gone this long without posting, but our spring has been quite the whirlwind. From the time our plane hit home from Colorado, we've experienced a death in the family, basement flooding, a broken dishwasher (hand-washing isn't all it's cracked up to be), and an endless supply of exams and papers due - all while maintaining a revolving door of house guests.

There is so much to share, but I am all but drowning in schoolwork. [Word to the wise: working full time while being a new mommy and trying to get a MBA is not for the faint of heart.] Thankfully, reprieve is on the horizon. Only a week of school left and I'll finish for the summer.

I have run-on thoughts and heart stirrings that I want to dive into, but I don't want to miss Ty's ten month post - seeing that we're half way to his 11th month. More on my heart later, today is about Ty!

I cannot believe how much one little man can change your life, heart, and perspective forever. Every day gets better; every month reveals new facets of his person. I don't know how other moms feel - biological or otherwise - but I feel a renewed washing of joy every morning. It doesn't matter how crazy my life becomes or how much laundry and homework cover the floor, Tyrus is a well that I draw from. His smile melts my heart, his roaring makes me giggle, and his gentle kisses make me tear. God has brought so much life to our family through this little boy.

Ben and I have a bedtime routine that involves racing to his bedroom for quiet moments and stares. If ever one of us catches the other in the act, we feign anger...it's something we like to do together. Sometimes we sit and stare, sometimes we whisper quietly, but Ben always kneels down and puts a strong, fatherly hand on Ty's sweaty forehead. Without fail, every night, we leave the room saying, "I love him so much..."

Sweet Tyrus has never been taken for granted. He continues to be a constant reminder of God's love and faithfulness. I don't feel worthy of such goodness.

He is changing so much. Still no crawling - the little buddy refuses to try. What can you do? He loves to walk around furniture and will be taking steps on his own in no time. A rather fearless tenacity has emerged as he is determined to get what he wants when he wants it. It's a deep set quality in me and one I'm thankful passed down.

"Muma" has become the word of the month and Ty says it like it's going out of style. He started calling for me when he was really frustrated or wanted out of an enclosure (bed, high chair, exersaucer), but now uses it more lovingly.

Ty is still a maniac about food. He eats everything and would never stop eating if I didn't declare "all done." I have stopped pureeing all his fruits, as he's able to eat them on his own now, but we still roll with smooth veggies for lack of teeth. Like crawling, he refuses to grow them. A typical meal for Ty consists of 4oz of fruit, 4oz of veggie, a sippy cup of water, a piece of American cheese, and 2 oz of yogurt or similar snack.

We are very healthy conscious, but did let Ty have his first cookie and cake-smashing experience when we were in Colorado. He, of course, made a mess of both and loved every second.

The Daddy/Ty bond gets stronger and stronger as Ty becomes more boy and less baby. They have already begun playing catch, which was a cute skill when it came to ball throwing - not so much when Ty moved on to his bottles...

Our family philosophy is to do everything together. We don't let Ty's age stop us from doing some of our favorite things. We love to include him and expand his experiences (more on that later).

I love watching Ty learn and grow. He is very inquisitive and serious when it comes to figuring out how his toys work. He will sit and work at something for 20 minutes, trying to get it to open or close or move. Watching his comprehension play out is amazing.

My niece has been living with us for two weeks, now and watching her and Ty interact together has confirmed our desire for a sibling. Nya and Ty are almost exactly a year apart and they have been like two peas in a pod, giggling and babbling together. I'm anxious and excited about the next chapter of our story and asking God for direction.

We stand on Philippians 1:6, trusting that God will complete this work he has started. I look forward to exploring what this means for us, with you, in coming weeks.

Hope you're still reading (smile). It's good to be back, my friends, it's good to be back.

Family Reunion: Words & Pictures

When we dipped into the foothills my mind started to sing. A wash of home melted over our hearts. Neither of us had ever been to Colorado before last April and this was our third trip. Having lived there for nearly a month, last June, its memories contain lingering attachments.

I don't know why the feeling surprised me. I mean, this was the place the light in my world shone its brightest. The place our little family of two became three. Being there, again, felt right and good.


I was unusually unnerved, waiting for Rebekah. Her kids came running to the door first. They each got a big squeeze. I, temporarily, forgot about Ty in all the excitement. Rebekah brought me back, while we hugged, and asked if she could hold him. Of course!

Ty did awesome. He was immediately captivated by all the new faces and noises. The three youngest clamored around him like a new puppy. It was so cool to see never-met siblings falling easily into play time together.


While they played, we talked.

I learned that Rebekah's second youngest (Ty being the first) has the same standy-uppy hair that all out refuses to be smoothed, forcing Rebekah to buzz it (and me to hawk it). Something about that insignificant fact made me smile. Ty has roots, commonality. There is someone else in the world, with the same mom, that has hair just like him.

Those are pieces of him that can't be fabricated by me. Pieces of him that make him unique to our family and bonded to Rebekah's. I love that.


Ty was passed from family member to family member, the first two days, and never complained. It was amazingly natural. We did everything from swimming to park playing to Easter eggs.






We were able to reconnect with all of the family we'd met before and some we hadn't. It was overwhelming to see so much love in everyone's eyes. Rebekah's family has accepted us into their circle and loves us as much as they love sweet Ty. It's a beautiful reflection of our Father.

By our last day, Ty just wanted me. Prior to our trip I was concerned with how this would make Rebekah feel, but she never batted an eye. She understood and seemed to enjoy watching him with me.

Someone asked me, yesterday, if I had a favorite moment.

I had a hard time choosing one because there are so many, but there are definite winners that stand out. The first was watching Rebekah give Ty his first piece of birthday cake.

We celebrated Rebekah's oldest daughter's birthday while we were there and wanted the family to have the experience of watching Ty do the first-birthday-cake thing. We stripped him to a onesie and let him have at it. The kid was all in. Got it all over him, all over Rebekah, and made us all laugh.

The second highlight was during our video shoot. At one point Rebekah said, "It's like we never lost him."
I've replayed those words a dozen times and they make me stand still. As an adoptive mom, I don't think there could be a higher compliment. The fact that Ty's mother still feels as much a part of his life...to be able to say, he was not lost...is amazing. Even my pride recognizes that it's not our doing. We try hard to be a complete reflection of Christ in everything we do and mostly it comes down to loving. Loving deeper than we're able to on our own.

We attended a theater-worthy, Easter production at Rebekah's church and one of the songs that was presented after the crucifixion, has a haunting lyric that sings, Is there any way you could say no to this man?

Tears streamed my face as I thought back on this past year. The day before we left for Colorado a co-worker startled when I told her where we were going. She admitted to being fearful of what the outcome might be and ended with, "I could never do it." I remembered her words when listening to the above ballade.

Living in fear, not walking in love, and refusing to step out when God calls are all variances of saying no to this man. Everyone thinks they wouldn't be a Peter, but then God calls them to something outside their boundaries and they deny their Savior every time. I don't ever want to be that person.

Seeing Rebekah and Tyrus together, this weekend, was saying YES to this man.




Our time together was undeniable treasure, but in my true to self/blog form, I have to write that it was not all easy. There are some things that I am not going to share, but there are a few that I will.


Watching Rebekah's kids with Ty was both heartwarming and breaking. The adoption has taken its toll on their little lives. On our first night we were hit with a range of questions...Will you ever move here? Do you let Ty talk to his real dad? Will you teach him Spanish? When will you tell him about us? Do you think he'll be sad that he isn't part of our family?

We answered as honestly as possible and didn't sugarcoat our answers. You can't sugarcoat adoption. Adoption is complex and scary for adults, let alone children. Knowing that their little minds are trying to wrap their heads around what all the adults view as a "good thing" is difficult.

The girls cried when we left and one went on to tell Rebekah that she isn't sure she can ever do it again. It was too hard to say goodbye.


For the first time I had a full picture of adoption. I thought I knew this before, but it's cemented in my mind, now. Adoption is not God's first choice. As wonderful and great as our relationship with Rebekah and her family is, there was a natural ripping that took place in that family. And some of the splits are still healing. That is hard to see.

The day after we left was rough for Rebekah. That was hard to hear.

I wish that I could remove her ache, the guilt she feels. It seems cold to continue through life...our life, while she works it out, miles away. I know that I am not the cause of her pain and I don't take her hurts on as responsibility, but that doesn't make it less heavy.

It would surely be easier, on me, to not have such an intimate relationship with Rebekah. Then I would not have to feel the ebbs of her heart. But, I learned a long time ago that life is not about me and how easy I can have it. No, I am thankful (SO thankful) for what God has done in my little family. He has given me his heart for Rebekah, his heart for adoption. I am thankful that he has expanded my narrow mind and has taught me the true definition of redemption.

I feel that we are part of something extraordinary. And that's pretty cool.

I know I've only scratched the surface, but I hope I gave you an inside peek at our special time with Ty's family. I'll leave you with some thoughtful words from Rebekah's daughter. She was, quietly, tickling and kissing little Ty's feet, when she looked up and said, "I don't think he knows just how special he is."


I think she's right.

Come and Listen.

There is much to say.

In effort to do our time justice, I'm offering our trip in a la carte fashion. Before you read my thoughts, I'd like you to hear the heart cries of some pretty spectacular people in our story. If my world were a made-for-TV-movie, you would be hearing David Crowder's, Come and Listen piping in. Come and Listen...Come and Listen to what he has done...

Meet the amazing, Rebekah.



Her Mother.



Her Daughter.



Her Sister.



"If he never was, we would never be friends. And family."

I can't say it any better.

One Boy, Two Rebekahs.

I have seen, felt, heard, and experienced too much to write.

I will, but not now.

My heart needs to process first.

Headed home tomorrow.

Bags Packed. Hearts Ready for Reunion.

In college, me and my bestie felt the need to belt Chantel Kreviawk's, Leaving on a jet plane, at the top of our out-keyed lungs, any time one (or both) of us left for home. It was neither constructive nor accurate. We never left by plane and always had a return date.

It still holds fast as one of my favorite pastimes and I cannot think of Laura's theatrical arm flails without smiling.

Today, I wish said bestie was available for one last encore performance (okay, maybe not last performance) as our small family heads to the Rocky Mountains. My bags are packed I'm ready to go. I am so excited.

I get all sorts of unsure stares and questioning smiles when I tell people we're headed to see Ty's mom. I get the occasional correction, "Oh, Rebekah, you are Ty's mom." Like I need to be told. Or I hear, "Wow. You guys are just so amazing." Again, like I need to be told. KIDDING. We are not extraordinary for accepting Rebekah into our family. She's family. We're acting normally. Most of my family lives out-of-state and we do our best to make yearly visits. Not out of obligation, but love. It's the same with Rebekah.

We are not flying to Colorado for her. We're flying to Colorado because we miss and love her. And we know there is one boy, in particular, that she is aching to hold, again. And I'm aching to watch. I know what she has sacrificed and missed these many months...

It's time to bring this family back together!

This week is special for me. We met Rebekah for the first time. These were my words, this time, last year:

We’re walking down the corridor of her apartment complex. Ben looks and me and says, “This is not normal. What we’re doing here, it’s not normal.” I know. I try to avoid eye contact to keep my emotions in check. Why is it that our most emotional conversations happen in hallways? I took a deep breath, threw him a quick I-love-you-to-the-ends-of-the-earth glance, and emphatically said, “We can do this.”

He knocks on the door; she opens. Rebekah. Our baby’s mama. All these weeks of talking and emailing and loving…and there she is. I squeeze her as hard as I can and wish I never had to let go. The next 10 hours are a whirlwind of activity as we treat the kids to a day of fun (go carts, laser tag, mini golf, etc).

Love is a funny thing. In its presence, the world doesn’t exist and when your heart morphs back to reality it’s changed for the better. One of Rebekah’s daughters kept hugging me throughout the day. As we snuggled close in a double-seated go cart, she leaned her head on my shoulder and whispered, “I’m so glad you’re part of our family, now.” As I choked back tears, all I could muster was, “Me too.”

Our last goodbyes to Rebekah, two months later, were no less emotional. After spending three weeks with her, last June, I had to muster the courage to say goodbye, not knowing when we'd ever meet again:

You can only imagine the goodbye emotions of two mothers…over one son. Our love for him the very same. It was so hard.

We both put on big girl faces. Our goodbye was brief. Our tears real - but limited. I know she was holding back…because I was too. If I had opened the floodgates of my heart, I wouldn’t have been able to leave.

We shared lingering hugs. All I could say was, “There aren’t enough words to thank you.” She nodded her understanding, behind a veil of tears. I promised her that we would give Ty our all…and thank her with his life.

I am teary thinking back to those days. In both those visits, our emotions and nerves were high. We might still be emotional, this time around, but it will be nice to relax in the security of our friendship. My last vision I have of Rebekah is kissing Ty, cheek to toe, drinking in his softness. My heart is thrilled to add chasing and giggles to those memories, as the boy she remembers has changed much.

I feel like a kid. I can't wait for her to hear his laugh and tickle his belly...to experience his sweetness. And to witness the fro-hawk. Pictures and videos just don't do his life justice.

I have worked hard to guard my heart against expectations. (On Ty's end, not Rebekah's). The mom in me wants Rebekah to experience the son in him. I know it's been 10 months, but deep down I want Ty to know her. I want him to feel rooted and home.

I know that he's young and shy and quick to the mommy shoulder cling, but I also know that my son possesses a deep, soulfulness. He is affectionate and loving by nature. An understanding in his eyes.

Either way, this is going to be good. God is not finished with our family. Rebekah. Ty. Ben. Me. There is more to come. This is an important chapter.


I won't keep you in the dark. Videos and pictures and heart stirrings to come....

Standing Still

I've always been terrible at taking time to stand still. When Ben and I were first married, I would walk in from work and immediately start making dinner, straightening the house, and penning lists for the next day. He'd constantly pull me to the couch and say, "Can you just be?" After eight years of marriage, the drill continues, except now I'm a willing participant.

The other day I caught the above moment at the park and it sent me on a reflecting binge. I thought about all the guys I could have, would have, and thought I should have married and thanked God for the one I did. Ben and I have grown up together and there were many times through young adulthood that I questioned my choice in boys. One of the big battles I struggled with, believe it or not, was Ben's faith. At 16, the most God-hungry boys were seemingly more outward with their worship, passion for life, and body art (good ol' 3:16 tattoos and the like). They talked the big talk and had girls swooning on every elbow. Ben was never that boy. He was always sure and confident, but quiet.

I didn't know the treasures he possessed until I married him.

When I look at him, today, I am so thankful...and so aware of my foolish, juvenile thoughts. I thought because Ben didn't run to the alter every Sunday or outwardly confess exaggerated sins that somehow made him less godly; less honorable. When I see where all those once passionate, God-chasers are, today, I understand the realness of what Ben has. He is steady. And loyal. And genuine.

We are so like-minded, me and him.

He is anchored in Truth. He knows what he believes and does not waver, left or right. I used to think I brought out the best in him until sweet Ty came along. They bring out the best in each other. When I experience them laughing in the nursery or reading on the couch, I know they share something special.

Their friendship secure.

I am so thankful for my boys. They challenge me to cherish our time and to drink in the sweet moments that would, otherwise, be quickly forgotten.

Open Adoption Interview Project

The Open Adoption Bloggers Network is celebrating one year and to mark the occasion I chose to participate in their Open Adoption Interview Project. I was humbled to be paired with Dawn from This Woman's Work. She is fantastic. You can read her interview of me on her blog and if you're interested in checking out the other participants, hop on over to Production Not Reproduction. Such a fun way to get to know other women in our community!

Dawn's credentials far outweigh mine as she has not only been published in Adoption Families magazinge, but also Parenting, Yoga Journal, and Wondertime. She has also been featured in Time magazine and the Washington Times and is currently working on a book with Jenna Hatfield that examines how openness is changing adoption in America. Her writing is magnificent, her spirit kind.

Dawn and her hubby, Brett, have two adorable kiddos. Noah was born to them in January of 1997 and Madison was born to her first mom, Pennie, in March 2004. I cannot even tell you how much I appreciate Dawn's candidness. As a fairly new, adoptive mom, I know I have a lot to learn and I drank in her words of experience.

So...grab a cup of java and enjoy my new friend on this cold, rainy afternoon.

You said this in one of your archived posts (it gripped me):

“I first started to get a sense of my inability to do it all perfectly when I realized I was infertile. A huge part of resolving my infertility was giving up this need I had to give him a sibling in what I believed was perfect time. I wanted him to have a specific big brother experience and once I realized that I couldn’t give him that, I understood that he also didn’t need it. That it was ok that I couldn’t make his life perfect.”

You talked about resolving you infertility. Can you share a little about that process and what it looked like? Has the infertility hold loosened its grip on your heart or does it still cause pain?

It was an ongoing process that started (although I didn’t know it) the day we decided to start trying for a sibling for Noah. I have recurrent miscarriages (I had two before we conceived Noah) and my doctors could never really give me a reason why. So part of grieving my infertility was grieving a lot of miscarriages, which made me wary of getting pregnant at all. I mean, I could get pregnant but stay pregnant? I didn’t jump up and down when I got a positive pregnancy test; I got terrified.

We did go to see an infertility doc and we ended up doing two IUIs – one with Clomid and one with injectables. We knew that was it for us because we knew that IVF wasn’t something that either of us was interested in since we didn’t want to deal with the ethics of frozen embryos, storing embryos, etc. Ironically we thought adoption had fewer ethical potholes. Little did we know!

Anyway, Brett wasn’t that interested in adoption (he thought it was something we could never afford) so letting go of further treatment meant letting go of another baby. Once I let go of getting pregnant, I realized, you know what? I want to parent again. Which is when I started looking seriously at adoption. When we found a program that fit our budget, we were good to go.

Does infertility still cause me pain? No. I have some “what if” thoughts now and then but these aren’t fertility specific. It’s more about wondering what it would be like to be a whole different person. Like sometimes I think, “Rats! I will never know what it’s like to be a professional musician!” (I have no musical talent; I just wonder what it would be like.) Or, “I wonder what it’s like to be a high-powered executive with a nanny and a housekeeper?” I don’t really want to be a high-powered executive with a nanny and a housekeeper, I’m just curious about it. Likewise I wonder what it would be like to have a surprise pregnancy or have a bunch of kids who all look like each other or to be able to say, “I think I’ll get pregnant” and then do it. But no, I have no more grief about it.

You also wrote: As a parent, one of my challenges has been to find the careful balance between taking responsibility appropriately and taking on too much responsibility. For example, my infertility journey wasn’t such a terrific thing for Noah. I was preoccupied and depressed and Noah couldn’t understand why I wanted another kid when he was so happy being an only child. There’s an entry somewhere in my archives where he said to me, “Why am I not enough for you?” I know it’s not the same as an adoptee struggling with hard-core feelings of rejection but I’m saying that every parent has to understand the way their choices impact our kids AND the limits of our ability to address that impact. Ultimately, our kids need to figure out how to live with inconvenient truths.

What would you say to families that are aching for another baby/child?

I wouldn’t say a thing but I’d listen. And if they were open to it, I’d tell them that it won’t always hurt this much and that it will get better. But I know that unless you’re ready to hear that, it doesn’t ring true.

What is the family dynamic having one child born to you and one child born to Pennie? More specifically, what attitudes/behaviors have you seen between Noah and Madison? What sort of questions have surfaced?

Oh my goodness, there’s really too much to even say. The adjustment was very hard for Madison and brought up a lot of her grief about the adoption. She couldn’t understand why Roscoe (her little brother) got to stay with Pennie and she had to come live with us. She was very jealous and very angry. Since Roscoe’s arrival, it’s gotten better although she still has a lot of processing to do. Recently when Pennie mentioned that she’s looking forward to having another baby, it all came up for her again – she was pretty mad about it and she will randomly bring it up. (She just brought it up with Brett when they were headed to the park. She said, “I don’t know how to tell you this, Daddy, but Pennie is going to have ANOTHER baby. I don’t know what she’s going to do with all those babies in her house!”)

Madison has really needed to know that Pennie grieves her, too and that Roscoe is not a replacement. She needs to know that Pennie misses her as much as she misses Pennie. Having that reassurance – that she’s not the only one hurting, that she is incredibly valuable to Pennie – has been a big part of her coming to terms with Roscoe’s arrival.

In other ways, her adjustment has been similar to any big sibling adjustment like jealousy that people make such a fuss over a baby, tremendous pride in “her” baby, and falling in love with someone smaller who is pretty dang adorable and thinks she walks on water.

As to Noah, he’s had a lot of sympathy towards Madison and has been a huge supporter of hers. He’s listened to her when she’s upset about Roscoe and before Roscoe was born, he talked to her a lot about his own adjustment and how scared he was, too, and reassured her that it would all work out. He’s been pretty great.

He thinks Roscoe is very cute and enjoys him but he’s never been much of a baby person. I think once Roscoe is walking and talking that they will have more of a relationship. Fortunately, Pennie and Tommy (Pennie’s partner) both see Noah as kind of an honorary big brother because that is definitely how Noah sees himself! He and Pennie have a great relationship that has really grown over the years. She was a big sister herself so they bond over that.

Can you talk to us about your relationship with Pennie (Would you like me to refer to her as "Pennie" or Jessica)? What about Madison's relationship with her?

We call her Pennie. We’ve always called her Pennie but when I first started blogging I used J since when we matched with her, we of course had no idea if she was THE one or not so we were cautious. Later when I wrote an essay about us, she gave me permission to use Jessica for the story. Still later I asked her if I could just call her Pennie already because some of my readers had met her and knew her as Pennie, too. So we call her Pennie. (She is very integrated in our lives. She lives across town but it’s a small town so that’s not far and there’s a lot of mixing of our Facebook friends!)

My relationship with her? We’re pretty close. I kind of think of her as a little sister (I’m fourteen years older). I enjoy her a lot – she’s funny and smart and interesting. I admire her a lot, too, because she has tremendous perseverance and bravery. She and Madison both have this sunny personality type that inspires me to try not to get mired in my gloom. I have learned a lot from her and I love her.

Madison’s relationship has definitely grown and deepened as she’s become more cognizant of what having a birth mother means. It was a process. When she was much younger, she knew Pennie was special and she knew Pennie was her birth mom but she didn’t quite get what that meant. Then when she was a little less than two, she figured it out and that was HUGE. It was huge and it was painful for her (for Madison). It was also huge for Pennie who realized how vital she was to Madison’s life. It’s like something “clicked” in Madison’s brain and their relationship got onto a new, deeper groove.

Lately Madison’s world has been about making sense of having two mommies and her feelings of loyalty and insecurity about that. Losing one mommy has made her more worried about losing two so that’s an ongoing discussion especially because the more she shares how much she loves Pennie, the more worried she gets that I will be angry or hurt about this. I have had to be very very very explicit that I am NOT in competition with Pennie nor is Pennie with me. I have had to say deliberately (there’s a lot about this in my blog), “You can hug Pennie. It makes me happy to see you hug her. I LOVE when you hug her!” (that conversation started here)

It’s been very gratifying to see them come into their own relationship!!!

Since I've only been an adoptive mom for 9 months (many of my readers less!), I'm really interested in the progression of Madison and how she's grown with her adoption story. How did you start out talking about adoption? When did she start asking questions? What sort of questions did she ask? What sort of questions did Noah ask?

We didn’t start talking about adoption – it has always been an ongoing discussion. It’s a continuation of a dialogue that began with Noah when we first decided to adopt. (We got the call that Pennie chose our profile on his seventh birthday. I had a house full of kids and moms when the agency called so there was a lot of excitement coming over the line from our end!) Noah’s questions at first were about the transracialness of the adoption; he was very worried about having a family that didn’t “match.” A lot of our earlier discussions were about that and about the practicalities of where the baby would sleep and whether he would have to share his toys.

When Madison was born, we knew we wanted him to meet Pennie along with Madison even though beforehand we figured he shouldn’t meet the baby until the papers were signed. But then we realized that he was also emotionally invested in what might happen and that if Pennie ended up parenting, he would need to see her and see Madison and know that this was ok. And if she ended up placing, then we wanted him to meet Pennie first as Madison’s mom so he would understand who she was and – in case the openness petered out – he would have a memory of it to share with his little sister because we knew Madison would be hungry for details. (At that point, we had NO IDEA what our open adoption would look like. We were all just feeling our way.)

Anyway, it was around eighteen months or so that Madison started getting a handle on her adoption story. We had a friend who was pregnant and Madison, like most toddlers, was interested in that. She was intrigued by my friend’s belly and liked feeling the baby kick. She was very verbal very young so she asked a lot of questions. Then, this day, it all fell into place and she finally got it:

Read Here

Since then her questions have gotten deeper. When she discovered that Roscoe was on his way and that she’d be a big sister, her questions began to focus on her birth dad, with whom we have no contact.

Now, looking back, what advice would you give to new adoptive parents?

It really depends on where they are in the process and what their concerns are. I’d encourage them to read the stories of adult adoptees – the happy and the angry and the sad and the joyful – and understand that we can’t control how our children feel about their adoptions. And that our kids can feel lots of different ways including happy, angry, sad and joyful. Also our job is not to save them from pain but to love them and offer comfort when they are pained. Over at OpenAdoptionSupport.com we get a lot of questions that go, “How can I protect my child from hurting over XYZ?” and the truth is, we can’t. Part of growing up is learning to process their stories and we can help our kids by being age-appropriately honest (and little kids understand a lot more than we realize) and by being open to the questions, thoughts and feelings.

Finally I would say, hey, just because your kids never bring up those hard topics doesn’t mean they aren’t thinking about it. Sometimes we have to take the lead. Madison didn’t tell me she was afraid of hugging Pennie in front of me; I had to ask. Asking opened the floodgates and since then her relationships with Pennie and with me have improved. So it’s worth risking saying the “wrong” thing as long as you give your kid the chance to correct you and get it right.