Hey everybody! I hope y'all have had an excellent spring break. I know most of you just had a regular work week, but maybe the teachers and students enjoyed the week off! This blog has been in the works for a while. I just couldn't find the courage to share it. Believe it or not, every single blog makes me a little nervous. Sometimes more than a little I guess. I'm (or at least I used to be) a pretty private person by nature. I made a promise to God a while back that I would be transparent enough to give Him all the glory for Dani Marie's story. It's easy to share the highlights, but the insecurities that come along with it, well that takes a little more "dying to myself" and just sharing our hearts. Here you go...
Flashback to November....
Dani Marie's adoption is closed. What does that mean? Well, it means we don't have contact with her birthparents. Not that we don't talk about them, it's not that we don't celebrate them, it's just that we don't really know them personally. Whose decision was this? Well, all of ours really. Mainly though, it was her birthmother's decision. You see, at that point I would have given a kidney, much less agreed to any terms needed to be a mother. I get it. I mean I understand why she wanted it this way. I know all kinds of adoptive families. The thing about adoption, not just adoption parenthood in general I guess, is you have to find what works for your children and your family. I've seen open adoptions be the perfect fit for some families. For Dani Marie's birthmother, closed just worked best. She explained her reasons to me that one time we met. It was like everything she did for our girl, out of love. She told me that it would be too hard for her to see ongoing pictures from birthdays, school events, etc. The thing was, she loved Dani Marie so much. She wanted so desperately to be a part of her life, but her wants.. those came second to Dani Marie's needs. She knew for Dani Marie to have the best shot at this life, she needed us. Financially, spiritually, she needed to be placed with us. I can't imagine what that felt like for her. I do know that she made all her decisions with our baby girl's best interest at heart. She told me that day that she wouldn't cry, she'd already cried all her tears. She told me she wanted that to be the happiest day of my life. And it was.... She explained her decision. One made with a maturity well beyond her years. Her decision was that the first time we saw our baby, would be her last time. She needed to see that she was loved and leave it there. I can only speculate about the other reasons why. I have a million times...played those first moments back in my mind. I think she was breaking her own heart. She couldn't see pictures of a life she wasn't part of, for her I don't think she could even play just a supporting role in Dani Marie's life. I think it would have been too difficult for her, because she loved her so much. I think she did all that she could, she gave Dani Marie absolutely the best shot she could. She hand-selected a family that she felt could provide for her needs and wants in a way that she couldn't. I can't imagine. I can't comprehend her sacrificial heart.
So, what does that mean? That means that Dani Marie understands she is adopted. She knows that makes her special. She knows she grew in her birthmother's tummy. We have told her this story since she was small enough to fit in our hand. As she is getting older though, she understands it more. That means sometimes the questions are deeper than they were three years ago or even two. She has always been intrigued by the fact that she has her birthmother's eyes. She loves to ask about how we felt when we first found out we were getting her. She asks often to look back at the pictures of our "pinked out" yard the day the adoption was official, compliments of sweet Aunt Am. Those stories have always brought smiles and excitement to relive. A few months ago, a more difficult set of questions brought other emotions.
Dani Marie is at the age where lots of her friends are having little brothers and sisters. She understands that her mom isn't able to carry a baby. I guess, her little mind had been trying to think of a loophole. One night when we were riding in the car she asked a new question.
"Mom, listen. I been thinking maybe birthmother could have another baby. Maybe, she could have a brother or sister for me. I mean, if she has a baby won't it be my sister or my brother?"
I just swallowed hard. You see, one of my "fears" is that someday she'll let the world change her view of adoption. I know it's silly. It's something I have to die to and trust in God. The human flesh in me is afraid sometimes. I guess, that someday we won't be enough for her. I know that sounds silly, maybe. I mean, I'd love for her to meet her birthfamily if that is what she wants. I wish I could promise that her fairytale would continue and it would be a great reunion. I can't though. Would possible siblings accept her? I'd hope so, but who knows. Would she ever get angry at us for not being able to give her that role as a sister she wants so badly at times? I hope not. Will she one day wish that she wasn't a part of our world? Goodness, I pray not. Would someone she seeks out, hurt her? I don't know. See, those are the scary questions at times. I have always just prayed that God would guide us and give us peace. The answer is yes, all the children that her birthmother and birthfather have are her siblings. What does that mean? I don't really know. So, how do I explain this one? Over the years, I've learned to be slow to speak. I just stayed silent a minute. I asked God to help me answer this. In true Dani fashion, she didn't stop asking until I answered her.
"Well, baby let's see. Yes, if your birthmother has a child that would be your biological sibling. Now, does that mean a baby brother or sister could come live with us? NO, it doesn't. You see, our hope and prayer for birthmother is that now she is older and hopefully has finished college and has a job, and maybe she is in a place where she can take care of a baby. That's what we want for her. We want her to be the best mommy she can be. When you were born, she wasn't at a place where she could be that. She was smart and she loved you so much that she knew that. That's why she "put you to us" (Dani Marie coined this phrase when she was almost 3, and we think it's the perfect way to say it.) so we could be a family."
And then I just held my breath.
"Yes, I understand. She knew we needed each other right, Momma?"
I smiled. That sweet baby. That's exactly right. I thought that would be the end of the conversation, but it wasn't not quite.
Later that night while I was brushing her hair she started in again.
"So, Momma when you saw birthmother, was that at the hospital where all the babies are born?"
I explained that it was. I talked to her about the talk we had that day. Then she asked me if she could go there. She wanted to go back to where we saw her birthparents and everything began. This part scared me a little. What will she feel? Will she wish she had gone home with them? What is this? I don't want to confuse or hurt her. I thought these questions would come at 10 or 12. I didn't think it would be 5!
I agreed to take her. We started out the next day. We were headed to the NICU. We were almost at Tupelo when she said, "Wait, Daddy was there. Right? Wasn't Daddy there, too? My birthfather was there and so was my daddy. We can't go back without him."
I agreed that her daddy was there. I told her it would be a few days before Daddy could go with us due to his work schedule. She said she wanted to wait until we could both go back to the place where we last saw them. I was a little relieved. That was it for a few days. The following Saturday we got up and headed to Tupelo. I never mentioned going, I guess thinking she had put it out of her mind. We were headed to the mall. As soon as we got in she reminded us. "Don't forget where I want to go. Remember, the place I was born at?" Right, okay. We headed to the NICU. We pulled in the parking lot, and so many memories flooded back. I asked God to help me find the right words to comfort her heart. I also asked him to protect mine. Would she be glad she left there with us? Were we "enough" for her? We walked in to the hospital. She immediately told us she wanted to go back to where we had our "talk". My husband never said a word. I think he was feeling some of the same things I was. We walked out to the courtyard and when we stood beside the table, I pointed.
"Here it is. This is the spot. This is where we ALL made the plan for you." I wanted to say more, I wanted to remind her how much we wanted her. I wanted to explain. God seemed to silence me. He reminded me that sometimes it's only in the quiet that peace can come.
"Momma, where, where did she sit? My birthmother could you show me where she sat?" I got down on my knees and I mustered out a "Sure, baby" and pointed to the seat. Then, she walked to the seat and she sat in it. She sat and rubbed the edge of the seat for several minutes. She never said a word. Daniel looked away, and I just held my breath. What was she thinking? How could I comfort her? How could I remind her that she is our world? That she was wanted and loved and prayed for? What could I do? What was she thinking? She rubbed the seat and she had the most solemn look, I've ever seen her have. Had it really been six years since we had been in that same spot? Then, after almost five full minutes of silence, she looked at me. She smiled. I was still on my knees. She reached her arm around my neck. And she spoke.
"Momma, you know what? That day, y'all made the perfect plan for me." She hugged me so tight. My heart just melted. We came there that day for her. I wanted to help her find peace. I wanted to comfort her little fears or worries, but in true tinygirlbigmiracle fashion she comforted mine. I was her momma, and she was glad. She wanted us. In fact, she thought being with us was the "perfect plan" for her. In a thousand lifetimes, I could never deserve this precious girl. She held mine and her daddy's hands. She looked at the door and then she told us, "Now, let's go home." That's exactly what we did. I still don't know what she was thinking or feeling when she sat in that spot. If she is anything like her selfless birthmother, I'm sure she thought of everyone else involved. Maybe she even felt the love radiating off that spot from another young beautiful girl who sat there looking at me with the same crystal blue eyes years ago. That girl gave me the greatest gift, our daughter. That day, Dani Marie's precious confirmation that our plan was perfect was another gift I will always treasure.
We snapped this picture of her before we left.
The truth is we are still just getting our feet wet with how to handle the complicated questions that come with adoption. Sometimes maybe we even make it more complicated than it really is. It's actually pretty simple. Just like the way God loves us. We don't deserve it, we can't explain it. It's simply a gift given to us. Dani Marie had the best answer for any question that could ever come up. "We made the perfect plan for her." God, her birthparents, our precious social worker, her daddy, and I all loved her enough to make the perfect plan for her. One day, I hope she understands just how perfect that plan was for me, too.
Love y'all!
