As of last Sunday, it has been eight years since the day we finalized Lindsey’s adoption.
In the courtroom on Lindsey’s adoption day, 2009:
Eight years.
In many ways, that feels like a lifetime ago. I look at that picture and I can hardly remember who we were then.
Some of you have been reading and following that long, praying us through a great unknown. If that’s you, consider this a great big virtual thank-you hug. As you may imagine, adopting a teenager was scary. For all of us. Lindsey put on a fearless front, but we all had enough sense to know that we didn’t really know what we were getting ourselves into. None of us had any idea what the future might look like.
Looking back, I’m glad we couldn’t have seen everything ahead. Based on some of those days (weeks, months…), we’d have gone running. All of us. I can say that now because we’re on the other side of it.
This is what 8 years can bring.
At our regular Sunday afternoon pizza lunch, Khloe sat next to me as usual and we made faces, smooched, and laughed at each other. That girl is 100% nut. She brings out the nut in me, too. (It’s not far beneath the surface!) Greyson is getting to the age where he’s awake for more than a few minutes at a time, so he and I had a little one-on-one chat, getting a chance to look each other in the eye, and then he fell asleep on me and I savored some baby snuggles.
These grandmotherly moments of toddler silliness and baby snuggles are what I get now, and it’s all because we said yes eight years ago. I didn’t earn these gifts; they are a result of grace. (Y’all, look at my nutty grandbaby girl’s face; told you she’s a nut!)
I still struggle with parenting Scout, and some days I am overwhelmed at the thought of how many parenting years remain ahead of me. Many parents reading this can’t fathom that feeling; you’d rather your children stay little as long as possible. I understand how that is, too — but this has never been a place where I’ve candy-coated hard things. Coming so far with Lindsey gives me hope that maybe my future with Scout will be better than I can currently imagine.
We’re all human, so it’s still not always sunshine and giggles. But we’re family. We’ve all learned a whole lot more about what that really means, and it has nothing to do with DNA.
A few related posts you may like:
- Confessions of an Adoptive Mom {aka Great Expectations}
- When Mom Struggles with Bonding in Adoption
- Real Mom (a realization a long time in coming)
- Advice on adopting a teen: Reader Q&A
Wife, mama, homeschooler, dog-wrangler. Introvert who finds joy in good books, sunshine, and authentic conversation. Fitness enthusiast and strength coach. Often seen with a steaming mug of tea in hand.
Thank you for sharing the good on the other side of hard. I feel much the same about my daughter as you feel about Scout. I’m sure our experiences are similar in that regard. I needed the hope today – that someday might just be better than I am currently imagining! Thanks for sharing!
Corina — Yes, we can both hope for that! It’s hard, isn’t it? But it makes me feel better reading comments like yours as a reminder we’re not alone in our experiences. (hugs)
Thank you for being real and willing to share the struggles. We adopted our two sons at birth that have been easy and wonderful and have struggled through adopting our daughter at almost 11 yrs old. It’s been 3 years now and we’ve come so far but some days, a lot of days, it’s daunting to think of the years ahead of us. I appreciate your posts – it helps me see the light at the end of the tunnel.
And I also meant to say I’ve been reading your blog For over 8 years. I was drawn to your blog because we things in common- I’m also an introverted homeschooling mama travelling the adoption journey.
Thank you, Tandie, for reading now and way back then! I’m glad my journey is helping you see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know it can feel quite dark in there. (hugs)