Recently my younger children and I were watching the Disney television program Jessie. If you haven’t had young kids in the past 10-12 years, you probably haven’t seen this show so let me just give you a quick recap. Debby Ryan plays Jessie, a nanny who lives with a very wealthy family in a penthouse suite in New York. The show centers around her and the children she is tasked to care for, three of whom are adopted.
On this particular day as I watched the show with my kids, the main storyline involved the celebration of one child’s Gotcha Day – the day when they were officially adopted into the family. The anniversary of this day was celebrated with a huge party and lots of presents and it seemed like such a special time of honor.
As we were watching the program, Vivienne offhandedly commented, “I wish I was adopted!”
The moment she said it, my heart sank. I knew why she had made the statement. She thought the party and presents would be a great addition to her already privileged life. Plus, she has seen adoption play out in her own life with two of her siblings and it felt exciting and happy to her. Like we’ve “saved” a child from a horrible life.
But I know the truth about adoption.
I know the heartache behind adoption.
I know the questions caused by adoption.
A few weeks ago I was listening to a podcast on adoption and trauma and the enneagram. (I’ve linked to the first one but it’s actually a 3-part series.) As I listened, the guest, Dr. Barbara Rila, said something that completely stopped me in my tracks. Honestly, it took my breath away.
This is what she said:
“Adoption is the creation of a family that is built directly over the gravesite of the family that had to die in order for the adoption to happen.”
Did you catch that?
Adoption is built on the gravesite of a family that had to die in order for the adoption to take place.
My heart dropped as I thought about my sweet Jonah. I actually sort of know his birth mother and her mother. But my precious little Jonah – his family – had to die in order for him to be my son.
And our sweet Jillienne. I know next to nothing about her family of origin but I do know this: her family had to die in order for her to be my daughter.
When I say that they had to die, I’m not speaking of a physical death. I’m talking about a family that disintegrates. And this could happen for a variety of reasons, death being only one of them. The death or disintegration of a family is not God’s first choice for a child. But it happens more often than we care to admit.
And I’m not saying that adoption isn’t beautiful. Because it is. I’m immensely grateful for the gift that Jonah’s birthmother gave me so many years ago and that Jillienne’s birthmother chose to give her life in the midst of what must have been a dire living situation.
But adoption is hard and devastating on so many levels. Please don’t forget that. These children have lost their first family and that’s a huge loss.
So when you see adoptive parents struggling with a wayward child or even just a questioning child, pray for us. Remind us that God has a plan for our children.
Point us back to Him if we seem to be lost.
Because, although the truth of adoption is difficult, it’s also a picture of God’s love for each of us.
And that, my friend, is beautiful.
(Credit for header photo: Three Chicks Pics)
Adrienne, as the mom of two adopted daughters, I appreciate these thoughts. Each phase of our children’s lives can add new shades and emotions to the reality of being adopted, and finding the words to express those feelings can be difficult. I pray that my girls (and your children as well) will always have someone nearby with whom they can process, whether it’s a parent or someone else.