we are all lucky

This post was originally published on September 17, 2010. It is an essay on show Hope and the great work that the Chapman family is doing for orphans all over the world. It is being re-posted in honor of National Adoption Month.




When people find out that our son joined our family through adoption I am often told how "lucky" Matthew is. Now that we are working on our second international adoption the platitudes continue. "What a great thing you are doing for these children. They are so lucky!" And I always respond the same way. "No, we are the lucky ones." And we are. We truly are. Matthew's grandparents, cousins, friends- they are all lucky. I have always held true to my belief that while my son certainly has been afforded opportunities he would never have seen had he stayed in China, including the love of a forever family, we cannot say for sure that ripping him from the country of his birth makes him "lucky". His life in China would have been different, yes. But our American ideals and my son's ability to attain them aren't necessarily better. We, as Americans, think they are- the nice house, the home cooked meals, the toys, video games, educational opportunities - these are hard to say no to. That is how we think, but that is is not how our whole world thinks. Tradition, culture, simple pleasures, honesty, hard work- these ideals, while not tangible- are important to the people of my son's birth country. So I really don't want to say that he is "lucky".

Last night my husband and I attended A Night With The Chapmans. It was a great night of music with Steven Curtis Chapman and his family. His wife, Mary Beth, spoke and read from her new book, Choosing to SEE. The tour is basically a fundraiser for show HOPE, an organization started by the Chapman family to help orphans around the world. As we settled into our seats the big screens began to display a video about this amazing organization. Images of babies and children from all over this world filled the screen. Many of the pictures were of Chinese babies with cleft lips and cleft palates. It was a very emotional moment for both my husband and I.

Later in the show a fellow musician and close friend of the Chapman family took the stage to talk about show HOPE. He talked about Maria's Big House of Hope, an orphanage recently opened by the show HOPE foundation in the Henan province of China. Not too long ago a medical team came to Maria's Big House of Hope to complete cleft lip and palate surgeries on the babies and children living there. The speaker then explained that the Chinese officials were so impressed with this project that they are talking to show HOPE about running a floor of already established orphanages for special needs babies. Special needs babies, like our little guy. We toured the orphanage Matthew lived in when we traveled to China and we saw the special needs "room". Crib after crib of forgotten and discarded children. Our son's crib was in that eerily quiet room.

As I sat there vacillating between hope and tears brought on by the inspirational music and powerful words it suddenly hit me. I can't believe I never figured this out before. I guess I always knew but didn't want to think about it. We are a family first, and a family brought together by international adoption second. The daily ins and outs of being a family always come first- the baths and bedtimes, sippy cups and games of tag- that is what I am all about these days. It may not always seem that way because so much of my writing is about the adoption side of our life, but it's true. So maybe life just got in the way. Or maybe I needed to be a little further removed from the adoption journey to fully understand the positive implications of what we have done by bringing Matthew into his forever family.

Our little man talks from the moment he wakes up until his eyes close at night. He sings and hums to himself constantly. He loves to snack on cheese curls and apples. He would not be able to do any of those things had we not brought him into our family. He wouldn't be able to hear the music as well without the tubes in his ears. he wouldn't be able to eat crunchy food without the repaired palate. He wouldn't be able to form understandable words to talk and sing. He was malnourished when we first met him and the fact is that babies with unrepaired cleft palates grow into children who are sickly and weak, if they grow into children at all. An unrepaired palate means difficulty in school and in forming relationships. And in China, where there are already considerably fewer girls than boys, an unrepaired cleft palate means no bride. No significant other as best friend and confidant. No intimacy.

I sat in my seat while everyone around me was standing up and clapping to the upbeat music, letting the truth just wash over me. We did save him. He would not be the boy he is today. He would not have the potential he has today. He would not light up a room with his smile or be the life of the party. In fact, he might not be.

Next time someone tells me how "lucky" Matthew and his future sibling are that we adopted them, I will still respond by saying "no, we are the lucky ones." And that will be true, we certainly are lucky. But in my heart, I know that my kids, the one here today and any future wilkisons, are lucky also. When you can suddenly see a part of the big plan God has for our lives, it's awesome. Last night, a small part of that plan became a little more clear.

forget the Mommy Wars. this is the only war I am willing to fight for...

The Mommy Wars are driving me crazy. You know what I am talking about. Every few months or so there is a new twist on the same old story. Working Moms battle Stay at Home Moms. Homeschooling Moms rage against Private School Moms. Breastfeeding Moms look down on Bottle Feeding Moms. Breastfeeding Moms fight with each other over where, and how long, to feed their children. Moms who let their babies cry it out are scoffed at by co-sleeping Moms. This Mom inoculates her kids, that one believes that vaccines lead to autism. Crunchy organic Moms simply don't understand busy swing through the McDonald's drive through Moms. The current Mommy War debate is laid out in a recent article in Time magazine about attachment parenting. We all saw the cover photo of the mother breastfeeding her three year old son. Didn't see it yet? Check it out here.  Outrageous? Maybe. Do I care? Not at all.

I believe in breastfeeding whenever possible. For however long Mommy and Baby need/want. I believe in vaccinating my children and hope that the other children mine come in contact with every day are similarly protected. I believe in most of the covenants of attachment parenting. I believe in baby wearing, as much as possible. I believe newborns and newly adopted babies should sleep next their parents- maybe not in the same bed, but within touching distance.  I believe in using a wrist tether to keep my child close in a crowded public setting, especially newly adopted children who may not understand the language or little ones with hearing difficulties. I believe in a good public school or private school education and would not home school my boys.  I let my boys watch TV. I let them play computer games. I let them play with my iPhone. I monitor their activity and time spent on these devices, but I don't ban them in my home. My boys eat candy and cookies. But they also eat fruit and as much organic/locally grown food as possible. I strive to be a good mother. And I am confident that 90% of the mothers out there in the world are also striving to be good at parenting. So let's be honest. I have my beliefs, and you have your beliefs, and I don't look down on your choices and you don't look down on mine. I really don't care about the Mommy Wars. Every mother out there is just doing the best she can, making decisions based on her individual belief system. And I don't care. Work. Stay home. Feed your child chicken nuggets. Sign them up for every class you can find or don't sign them up for a thing. Teach them to swim. Wear them until they are five. (I wore my almost three old just last Sunday, and we both LOVED it.) Let your kid listen to rock music. Keep them in the crib until they are three. (I do that too. My youngest turns three today and we have no plans to move him out of his crib anytime soon.) Breastfeed. Bottle feed. Breastfeed in public. Breastfeed your three year old. Force the potty training at two years old or wait until well after three. (me again...) Let me be clear: I don't care.

Here is what I do care about. The kids without mothers. All of the mothers mentioned above, all of the mothers involved in the Mommy Wars, their kids are fine. Those kids have strong mothers willing to fight for their beliefs. They'll be fine. But what about the 132 million orphans in the world? Who is fighting a war for them?

That is the war I will fight. I don't care about the Mommy Wars, but I will support organizations that support the orphans. I will talk to as many people as I can about adoption. I will fund raise. I will continue to worry about a society that puts more time on discussing breastfeeding versus bottle feeding than on helping orphaned children. The number of children living in orphanages seems to be a moving target and difficult to nail down, but most experts would place the number at around 132 million. 132 million, people. That is 132 million  babies and kids who wouldn't care if their mother chose to vaccinate or not. 132  million babies and kids who wouldn't mind if they went to a a large public school or learned at the hands of their mother around the kitchen table. 132 million babies and kids who don't care about the Mommy Wars. They are fighting their own war, and they need our care, concern, and loud voices more than anyone involved in the Mommy Wars. So I don't care about the Mommy Wars. When it comes to babies and mothers, helping those 132 million is the only war I am willing to fight.


how to help:
show hope
half the sky
friend of russian orphans

these are just a few of the organizations out there dedicated to adoption and orphan aid. these organizations are not endorsed by www.myinconceivablefamily.blogspot.com. they are for informational purposes only. please do your due diligence and support the causes you believe in!

it is never too late to do what God calls you to

I just started reading The Boy From Baby House 10: From the Nightmare of a Russian Orphanage to a New Life In America, written by Alan Philips and John Lahutsky. The book's dedication, To the children who never made it, makes me very sad. I have read all of 10 pages so far. Eventually I know I will finish this book. Maybe. In a while, down the road. Maybe when there is a little more distance between my recent trip to Russia and the present day escapades of my little Russian boy. Maybe not. I like to think that the orphanage my son spent the first twenty four months of his life in was not like the one I will read about in this book. I felt love in that hallway of the baby hospital. I think. The caregivers smiled and laughed with the children. The doctor seemed caring. If what I saw is to be believed, then I think that my little guy was loved. He was obviously well cared for. While he came to us malnourished he was clean, free of bruises. So I don't think that his life would have been like the life of the boy in the book I cannot bring myself to read. I don't think that at all. But I did ask enough questions about the futures of the children left behind in that baby hospital to know that his life would have been hard. He may or may not have had an opportunity to go to school and he certainly would not have been able to further his education in college. He would not have known relationships or how to form them. He would have been a number. Just a name and number to a government already overwhelmed by the names and numbers of so many in need.

I attempt to read books like this one for a few reasons. I want to know. I am interested in what is happening in orphanages in the countries my children hail from. I feel a responsibility to one day be able to answer any questions my boys may have. I feel very close to the children we saw, played with, left toys for. I often wonder what will happen to them and I pray that they will find their way out. The attempt to read this particular book about a young boy who would have surely died had he not found his forever family reminded me of the moment I realized my oldest son may not have survived had he not found us. Had God not led us to China my big four and a half year old may not have survived his childhood. I came to this realization during a Stephen Curtis Chapman concert. Read about it here.

I don't think about it very often. We have sports practices and music classes, Sunday school and preschool homework. Oh my God the preschool homework! All I can say is thank goodness next year, when the big four and half year old is in kindergarten the tiny toddler will not yet be in preschool. The year after that though, with a first grader and a preschooler the homework may just overtake me. And by then, another year removed from the dirt roads, the boarded up buildings where tired citizens still work every day, the large ballroom with the beautiful gold and glass chandelier up the two flights of stairs with the peeling paint, holes in the drywall and unlit light fixtures dangling from the ceiling - another year removed from the gray and feeling of heaviness, another year immersed in giggles and kisses and hugs and potty training and preschool homework- by then I bet I will hardly think of my boys big escape.

I often wish there was more I could do. I want to go back and bring them all home. The little boy who always asks when his mommy and daddy are coming to get him. The little girl who wanted my full attention. The tiny Chinese babies, all dressed in little pink and blue outfits staring up at me from row after row of cribs. I can't, of course. But once you've seen them, hugged them, played with them- these children are real to me now, and their needs are real as well. That is why I like show HOPE. This amazing organization provides orphan care, adoption aid, and so much more to the world's most needy. And right now you can help. If you are still in need of a last minute gift for a hard to buy for loved one, consider a gift from show HOPE's online Gifts of Hope. I like this gift catalog because you can select how, and where, you would like your monetary donation to be spent. Food, shelter, baby supplies - what is your heart saying to you? Christmas is right around the corner, but it is never too late to do what God calls you to.