By Tracy Dee Whitt
During my husband’s and my premarital counseling nineteen years ago, the pastor told me I was a rose waiting to bloom.
I was a little offended, I guess I had a ways to go in my development as a person. Sometimes twenty-year-olds think they’ve arrived, or at least think they’re farther along than a little bud.
I’ve thought about those words countless times over the years. I used to wonder what he meant, I wondered if I’d “bloomed” yet. Then one day I looked back and realized I had unfurled. Oh, I’m far from being that beautiful spread of petals, I have many flaws and a lot to learn. I won’t ever truly arrive at the pinnacle. However, I now see what the pastor meant, or at least what it means for me.
I’ve realized that finding my passion and giving wholly of myself is what brought about that feeling of contentment, the feeling that I’m becoming who I was meant to be.
What was that passion? I once heard someone say, “When you cry within a minute of talking about something, that thing you’re talking about is your passion.” That passion was adoption. Later it also became helping my son who has autism and others like him live their best life.
Adoption takes everything we have within ourselves if we want to succeed. It’s not easy, but it’s ultimately one of the most rewarding experiences. I wasn’t the woman of whom people would’ve said, “Yes, she would be a great foster mom.” Or, “Yes, she can raise adopted kids who’ve been traumatized.” I was weak. I quit too easily. I was extremely sensitive.
My husband, Justin, and I knew we wanted kids someday, but we definitely weren’t in a rush. Justin grew up in a daycare home, for stretches of time other children were in his home 24/7. So he wasn’t pressured to have kids. And our first years of marriage were rough. I have a rare disease and it was beginning to take its toll on me. It’s a genetic disease my mom has and it was treated as the great elephant in the room. So it was tough to deal with. On top of that, Justin was a youth pastor when we were married. Living in the glass house was too much for me emotionally, the judgement that I was never good enough, never supportive enough.
Eventually, we moved to Colorado to start over. Years later, I saw a pamphlet promoting China adoptions. When I saw it, I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Justin didn’t take too much persuading, just a little begging, maybe some pleading. Some more waiting, and then I asked, “So, what are you thinking about this adoption thing?”
At the time, the wait for a China adoption was projected to be seven years. Wow. We began the paperwork, we paid some fees. Then Justin came up with the great idea of doing foster-to-adopt in the meantime.
I was ready to hop on a plane and fly to China to pick up a child, but foster care? I was figuratively hiding in the baggage compartment when it came to that idea. It scared me! I said, “No way,” and hoped he’d move on. He didn’t.
At the time we were the co-leaders of an Adoption Support Group and we had some employees from the Child Protection Agency (CPS) come and share with us about adopting from foster care. This wasn’t for me to learn more about it. No, I’d already decided.
But God did a complete reconstruction of my heart and I was suddenly, miraculously, and even excitedly open to the prospect. We started foster care training as soon as possible. During this time, we also found out, emphatically, that CPS doesn’t do foster-to-adopt unless the child’s parents have already had their parental rights terminated. Usually, in those cases, the children are a little older, and we wanted to start off with an infant or toddler.
So, we would need to do foster care, and then after CPS did everything within their power to reunite the child with their birth parents, and reunification wasn’t possible, we would have the chance to adopt.
A day before we were certified foster parents, we received a phone call about a nine-month-old girl who needed a home. Her name was Payton. Her foster mom brought her to meet us that day, and I fell in love the moment I saw her.
At nine months, she had a traumatic past of abandonment, neglect, abuse, homelessness, several moves, and had been in and out of foster care. I loved her even though she wasn’t “mine.” There was so much I didn’t know about, I didn’t know how to help her.
One of the biggest things I’ve learned (and still a lesson I forget too often) is to listen to your instincts. Those parental instincts that tell you what to do and what not to do. Not every therapist will point you in the right direction. There are trauma therapists who harmed our child and others. We should’ve known, but we trusted.
When I’ve listened to my instincts and to God, I’ve learned a tremendous amount from other therapists, a training, or just an intuitive feeling that comes from Justin or me. And this is what truly helped us in our journey. Well that, and a lot of prayer.
We adopted that precious little girl, Payton, and she’s been absolutely amazing. A star in our life. She has overcome far more than we could ever imagine, and she has the biggest heart. She’s the best sister I could dream of her brother having. I honestly could not have given birth to anyone better.
When we adopted Payton, we wanted to take a break. Ha. That’s a funny thing when you’re a foster parent. We received a call about a three-month-old boy named Jeremiah exactly one month after Payton’s adoption. Break? Who needs that? Of course, it was impossible to say no, even though his birth parents have a lengthy history of severe mental disorders.
CPS knew he needed to be removed from his birth father’s care, but they couldn’t find Jeremiah. The following day they found him with his birth grandmother. When they brought him to us, once again my heart was given away. Jeremiah was still curled in the fetal position, he had horrible cradle cap, his zipper hoodie was melted together. My heart didn’t have a choice
There was a long reunification process for him too. Eventually, we were able to adopt Jeremiah, and he’s brought our family more love, joy, acceptance, and learning than we could’ve received any other way.
Jeremiah has special needs. We knew this was a probability when we brought him in. He was mentally and physically delayed, and at about two years of age we found out he has Autism and Sensory Processing Disorder. Jeremiah has nonverbal autism, he’s nine and he can’t talk. Most people who have autism can’t use sign language either. About a year ago he was ready to start using a communication device, so we’re moving forward with that, and he’s doing better and better.
Payton is Jeremiah’s advocate everywhere we go. Who knew that an adopted child would care for her adopted brother with such genuine compassion. She watches for him at school, she engages in our conversations about him all the time. She gets upset when he’s not treated fairly. She willingly helps him most of the time when he needs it, and she’s in tune to him like nothing I can explain or plan myself. It’s seriously a match made in heaven. She was made for him, and us, and the same goes for Jeremiah.
Adoption is the most rewarding experience. Does that mean it doesn’t come with challenges? No. I write a website focused on how to get through issues with traumatized adopted children. But a lot of times the answers to the questions I receive are within people, it just takes some digging, some pondering, some thinking outside that typical box.
Yes, there are times in the adoption world when we need to reach outside ourselves for help. However, if you make your children your priority, you’ll find what needs to be done. If you don’t know what to do, reach out and use your intuition. Don’t ignore it.
Raising typical kids is hard. Raising traumatized and special needs kids isn’t easy either, but there is so much you receive in return.
There’s been a paradigm shift in the past years that doesn’t allow adoptive parents to think they’ve done anything for their adopted child. Society makes us humble and says, “No, my child has helped me.” There’s a tremendous truth in this statement that I didn’t want to recognize when I first heard it. Now I see how profoundly my children do help me, they’ve changed my view of the world, how much love I possess, how giving of myself brings me the most joy.
However, I can’t deny that when you adopt, you do help a child. You give them hope, and opportunity. Yes, there’s brokenness, but also something new.
“Here at The Adoption Exchange, we know that the adoption journey is often a bumpy ride and that every child’s and family’s experience is different. There is no perfect journey. Some families have needs that require additional support and services, and that’s okay. If you are struggling, have questions, or need advice, please know you have a safe, welcoming, and confidential ally at The Adoption Exchange committed to helping your family thrive. We provide services that can help you navigate the tough times, including family support, community resources, TBRI® Caregiver Training, in-home coaching around TBRI®, specialized web-based learning, respite care and more. Please click here to learn more.
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Tracy Whitt lives in beautiful Colorado with her two children and husband, Justin. She and her family enjoy time outdoors making the most of life.
She writes at lovinadoptin.com and has several published articles. She’s also a regular speaker at her local hospital, teaching incoming nurses how to care for the autistic person in the medical environment.