**First off, sorry Paypal wasn't working, if you tried to donate. Here are two new, self-naming links for you**
http://tinyurl.com/MarlasDaughters
http://tinyurl.com/HelpMarlaPayRent
I love adoption.
(If you didn't figure that out by now.)
When I was ten I decided that I was going to adopt at least four kids--each of a different race, because, well, the world's skin colors are just beautiful. Fast forward to today, and a particular someone now realizes that when I say there is an adoption fund in our future that-will-not-be-touched-for-any-other-purpose-other-than-getting-me-a-toddler-or-preschooler-in-my-arms, I'm not kidding. As for the number of adoptions in my future, well, we'll see what God does about that, because I also thought I'd never foster; yet, here I am.
Since middle school, I've watched several families from church or school go out and adopt beautiful babies or toddlers. And I love it. If you want to see me cry, put a "Gotcha Day" video up on Youtube; 100 out of 100 times, I'll be a happy but teary mess.
But today, I got to see things from the other side of the "forever family." I mean, yes, I live with these children while they are orphans, but today was different.
I'm not going to name names or give any specific details, but I do want to tell you that today one of my daughters received a photo album from her forever family. On each page was a description of the people and things in the pictures. Another foster mom, Hannah, and I oohed and ahhed over it in the office. I had goosebumps, knowing that this family is exactly what this child needs.
And then I got the privilege of sitting this child down on the couch, telling her I had a surprise for her, and videoing her opening her gift and seeing her family for the first time. Initially, she opened the book and stared, not really sure what was going on. I said, "Baby, this is your family! This is your mommy and daddy!"
She looked up at me with wide eyes. And what was in her eyes? Fear. Nervousness. It wasn't that she didn't like the people in the picture. It wasn't that she hadn't known about them before. But being able to see them made things very, very real for her.
I knew at that moment, it sunk in that she would be leaving all these sisters, the only life she had known for a long time, to go somewhere very different, to be with people who were unlike anything she'd ever known.
Oh, baby.
I read the whole book to her as she flipped quickly through it. She finished, shut it quickly and looked at me with those eyes, seeking comfort. I was extra positive and trying to show how excited I was for her, trying to ease those fears.
We went through the book again at my prompting. With one of her mother-y sisters, we discussed how pretty and fun the people looked in it. We talked about what things she would like to do with them.
We looked at the pictures of her home. I showed her that she could put her underwear in this drawer, her socks in this one, her shirts in that one, her dresses here--or maybe her toys! I pointed out the space for coloring books in her desk, the drawer for pencils and crayons. We all fell in love with the enormous dollhouse, and she decided she would color and play the Snake game (Snakes/Chutes and Ladders) on the table in the living room.
After a few minutes, she decided that the people in the pictures would be fun, that she would enjoy them. That she wanted to go to the beach and park with her mom. That she liked this dog, but that that dog looked mean. She also picked out her favorite family member :)
Knowing what I would want if I were the forever mom, we then sat down and wrote a letter to her forever family. We wrote about the things she liked from the book--like playing in the snow and drinking hot chocolate, the Indian food and the cute dog, and of course, that dollhouse.
We wrote about what she wanted to do with them, like playing the Snake game with Daddy and eating the stick candy. She wants a green bicycle but still wanted them to know that red is her favorite color.
I am privileged. I am privileged and blessed to be able to see this side of adoption, this side of the forever family. I am blessed to better understand my future children when they are first introduced to this concept that this white woman and (very handsome) Indian man are now going to be in their lives forever. I am blessed to hopefully give at least one of my daughters away to their forever mommies and daddies before I leave in June. I am blessed to be able to go back to America and visit those daughters again, if given permission to do so.
But, do you know what makes me feel most blessed about this whole thing? I am blessed to see that my daughters, my family, are so tight knit, that it hurts them to think about leaving. How many orphans can say that?
When we read and flipped through the book, my daughter's smile didn't appear until we looked at one picture for the second time. It was picture of the home office area. Specifically, of the computer/desk workspace next to the kitchen. She pointed to the computer and I asked her if she thought she would type as fast as me someday. She said yes. I asked if she would play games on the computer, and she said yes. Then she said something that grabbed my heart: "Talking?"
Yes, baby. You can talk. You can Skype your sisters, and you can talk with them as often as you want, when your mommy and daddy say it's okay. You can talk, baby. You can call me, you can call Jenny sister, you can talk to Haley sister. You can talk, baby.
She looked up at me, searching my eyes to make sure I was telling the truth. Then, that little smile appeared, and she stared at that computer before flipping through the rest of the book a third time.
We're waiting for you, forever family.
http://tinyurl.com/MarlasDaughters
http://tinyurl.com/HelpMarlaPayRent
I love adoption.
(If you didn't figure that out by now.)
When I was ten I decided that I was going to adopt at least four kids--each of a different race, because, well, the world's skin colors are just beautiful. Fast forward to today, and a particular someone now realizes that when I say there is an adoption fund in our future that-will-not-be-touched-for-any-other-purpose-other-than-getting-me-a-toddler-or-preschooler-in-my-arms, I'm not kidding. As for the number of adoptions in my future, well, we'll see what God does about that, because I also thought I'd never foster; yet, here I am.
Since middle school, I've watched several families from church or school go out and adopt beautiful babies or toddlers. And I love it. If you want to see me cry, put a "Gotcha Day" video up on Youtube; 100 out of 100 times, I'll be a happy but teary mess.
But today, I got to see things from the other side of the "forever family." I mean, yes, I live with these children while they are orphans, but today was different.
I'm not going to name names or give any specific details, but I do want to tell you that today one of my daughters received a photo album from her forever family. On each page was a description of the people and things in the pictures. Another foster mom, Hannah, and I oohed and ahhed over it in the office. I had goosebumps, knowing that this family is exactly what this child needs.
And then I got the privilege of sitting this child down on the couch, telling her I had a surprise for her, and videoing her opening her gift and seeing her family for the first time. Initially, she opened the book and stared, not really sure what was going on. I said, "Baby, this is your family! This is your mommy and daddy!"
She looked up at me with wide eyes. And what was in her eyes? Fear. Nervousness. It wasn't that she didn't like the people in the picture. It wasn't that she hadn't known about them before. But being able to see them made things very, very real for her.
I knew at that moment, it sunk in that she would be leaving all these sisters, the only life she had known for a long time, to go somewhere very different, to be with people who were unlike anything she'd ever known.
Oh, baby.
I read the whole book to her as she flipped quickly through it. She finished, shut it quickly and looked at me with those eyes, seeking comfort. I was extra positive and trying to show how excited I was for her, trying to ease those fears.
We went through the book again at my prompting. With one of her mother-y sisters, we discussed how pretty and fun the people looked in it. We talked about what things she would like to do with them.
We looked at the pictures of her home. I showed her that she could put her underwear in this drawer, her socks in this one, her shirts in that one, her dresses here--or maybe her toys! I pointed out the space for coloring books in her desk, the drawer for pencils and crayons. We all fell in love with the enormous dollhouse, and she decided she would color and play the Snake game (Snakes/Chutes and Ladders) on the table in the living room.
After a few minutes, she decided that the people in the pictures would be fun, that she would enjoy them. That she wanted to go to the beach and park with her mom. That she liked this dog, but that that dog looked mean. She also picked out her favorite family member :)
Knowing what I would want if I were the forever mom, we then sat down and wrote a letter to her forever family. We wrote about the things she liked from the book--like playing in the snow and drinking hot chocolate, the Indian food and the cute dog, and of course, that dollhouse.
We wrote about what she wanted to do with them, like playing the Snake game with Daddy and eating the stick candy. She wants a green bicycle but still wanted them to know that red is her favorite color.
I am privileged. I am privileged and blessed to be able to see this side of adoption, this side of the forever family. I am blessed to better understand my future children when they are first introduced to this concept that this white woman and (very handsome) Indian man are now going to be in their lives forever. I am blessed to hopefully give at least one of my daughters away to their forever mommies and daddies before I leave in June. I am blessed to be able to go back to America and visit those daughters again, if given permission to do so.
But, do you know what makes me feel most blessed about this whole thing? I am blessed to see that my daughters, my family, are so tight knit, that it hurts them to think about leaving. How many orphans can say that?
When we read and flipped through the book, my daughter's smile didn't appear until we looked at one picture for the second time. It was picture of the home office area. Specifically, of the computer/desk workspace next to the kitchen. She pointed to the computer and I asked her if she thought she would type as fast as me someday. She said yes. I asked if she would play games on the computer, and she said yes. Then she said something that grabbed my heart: "Talking?"
Yes, baby. You can talk. You can Skype your sisters, and you can talk with them as often as you want, when your mommy and daddy say it's okay. You can talk, baby. You can call me, you can call Jenny sister, you can talk to Haley sister. You can talk, baby.
She looked up at me, searching my eyes to make sure I was telling the truth. Then, that little smile appeared, and she stared at that computer before flipping through the rest of the book a third time.
We're waiting for you, forever family.
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