My friend,
Laurie, is very good at posting on her blog about real life stuff. You know, the nitty gritty that none of us like to confess, but that each of us knows is in the fabric of our lives.
Another blog that I recently came upon had this real life post, "
After the Airport", regarding life after the camera flashes and excitement of arriving home with your newly adopted child. It spoke to my heart deeply and made me ponder some real life stuff that is going on in our family. I hope that by sharing more openly, this post may encourage my adoption friends who are possibly in similar situations, that it will hold me accountable to hanging in there, and that my faithful friends will offer prayer for us as we navigate through this chapter in our lives. So here goes....
We have been BLESSED twice by the miracle of adoption in our family. Those of you who have known us for very long have followed our journeys to China and have witnessed the incredible joy that our grafted family tree has brought to us. We know without a doubt that God called us to adopt, and that He specifically matched us with these two dark-haired, dark-eyed treasures. Yes, they are Wolfes, through and through, we belong together.
(In China for Elijah's adoption in 2009)
But keeping it real.....it's been tough. We've had two very different experiences because we adopted two very different children. One was but a babe at eight months old and melted into our arms. The toughest parts to get through were the night terrors the first few months home. The mournful, terrified wailing such as I have never heard before or since, cries that come from the depths of a soul even at such a young tender age....tough stuff. Yet while those cries pierced my heart, it was easy for me to wrap my arms around a tiny one and hold and comfort. We bonded through the midnight hours.
The other child was older at nearly ten years of age with a whole heap of emotional baggage and traumatic experiences. While hugs were given, they were awkward and unnatural. Bonding has been much slower as the older child is not dependent on us to feed, cloth, bathe, rock, and hold. Hugs and comfort have been given daily, but after two and a half years, they are still not natural.
I long for it to be natural, like a hand in glove fit. I want him to be such a part of me that I don't think I can breathe without him. I want the fabric of our family to be so tight, with no loose threads, nothing that we have to keep mentally tucking into place. I want to feel like we're over the hump of transition and gliding along smoothly without having to make excuses for behaviors.
But the obstacles, the bumps, the ruts in the road, are still being worked through. The immaturity, the childishness, the insecurities, the emotions. I find myself getting impatient. It's been over two years! When will it be normal? When will change show itself more prominently? As we enter the teen years, will it be too late? When will I wake up and think, "Hey, it feels natural! When did this happen?! Hurray!!!" When will we feel like just family without labels of adoption issues? When will my son's emotional age match his physical age?
I know, I know. I've read tons, I've been through seminars, I've prayed and complained to God. I know the answers. Yes, we asked for this, and yes, we brought it on ourselves, as some might say. We knew what we were getting into. We know that change is happening, albeit slow as molasses. We know that deep wounds take years to heal. We knew it would be tough. We're in this for the long haul.
But the book knowledge and the real life stuff are two incongruent things. My head tells me that it's just going to take more time. My heart tells me that I'm aching for that time to be now. My head tells me I need to be more patient. My heart is screaming that I don't want to remind him of proper table manners one more time. My head tells me that the true security of a family never leaving him will come with time, but my heart is tired of not allowing most clean family movies on movie night because just about every.singe.one of them is interlaced with abandonment issues. My head tells me that he IS acting his justifiable emotional age, but my heart groans at dealing with a toddler in a tween body.
I also know that these issues are so totally normal with older child adoptions, but forgiving myself for feeling this way is hard. No, it's near impossible. I don't like to admit having these struggles because it feels like I'm complaining about something I knew to expect. I feel like I should just put on my big girl panties and get over it because I know there are many who have walked much, much tougher battles with older adopted children.
On the positive side, oh wait, I already share that stuff. There are plenty of those to share and post about. You know those moments are there. And there have been a handful of truly Mama Bear moments where you can be thankful you weren't on the receiving end of my defensive rage for my son. Oh I love him fiercely, no doubt about it. Learning to like him, well that's what this post is all about, keeping it real.
So, we carry on. Yes, WE. It affects all of us. I know our family of seven is Providence. I know it because He leveled mountains, broke down gates of bronze, and cut through bars of iron to give us this treasure (Is. 45:2). Because He went to such extremes to form our family, I hang onto the hope that He who began a good work in us will carry it on to completion (Phil. 1:6). He will. He didn't say it would be easy, He said He'd be faithful (I Cor. 1:9). We'll find our groove. We will. He promises. When it will happen, I pray it's soon. In the meantime we're experiencing growing pains and learning valuable lessons. The refiner's fire, right?
Thanks for letting me share my heart. Maybe you think less of me, that's okay. Maybe you think I'm discouraging older child adoptions, I'm not. Maybe you can relate, I hope you hang on to Philippians 1:6. Maybe you will pray for us, we would be so grateful.
