My daughter has picked out the baby she would like us to adopt. She wants this one:
Unfortunately for her, this is the baby on the Care.com commercial that she saw last week. But she is adamant that this is the one she wants. “Can we get that one, mommy? The one with the pink bow.”
Her older 6-year-old sister rolled her eyes and said, “We can just put a pink bow on it, silly.”
So wise. And yet, I still feel like my children aren’t quite grasping this whole adoption business. I tried to explain it to them. I explained that it would be a long process and that submitting our paperwork this week was just the first step, and it may be a long time before we actually get a new brother or sister.
When we dropped off that paperwork, my 3-year-old wondered whether the baby would be riding home on her lap that day. Then when we got to the agency office, she looked at the wall of adopted children and said, “Wow, which one are we going to get?”
Oh, if only it were that easy. My children aren’t the only ones experiencing a bit of a wake-up call on how intense this whole adoption thing is going to be. I am feeling pretty overwhelmed just by the initial application. It all just seems so much bigger than me.
There are so many details, forms, home studies, fees, and on and on. Somewhere amidst all those details and headaches is the hope that another mother chooses me — to raise her child. To love her child. I can’t think of a more daunting choice for that mother, or a more humbling position for me. Who am I to say I’m good enough to raise that child?
Instead of getting bogged down in the details or too overcome by the procedures or intimidating wait-time estimates, I am focusing on the things I can control. I can keep doing what I do: being a mother and loving my children. So if another mother does choose me someday, I will be able to welcome her child into a loving home that is ready and waiting to love even more.
In that respect, I don’t think there is any better wisdom than that of my 6-year-old daughter, who recently told me that it won’t matter if a new baby doesn’t look much like any of us: “It’s what’s on the inside that matters, Mom. We will love it just as much.”
Any tips to get through the application/home study hurdles of adoption?