The Day My Daughter's Mom Died

Adoption is hard...really hard.

The teen years are hard...really hard.

Mix "adoption" and "teen," and difficulty exists on an exponential scale.  Answering the question of "Who am I?" takes on all new shapes, sizes, and emotions in the totally unnatural state of adoption. Truly, God's original plan for families does not include adoption, but it is a necessity in our sin cursed world.

My husband, Jeff, and I have two teens and a pre-teen, who are all adopted through the foster care system.  Having closed our foster license several years ago, our family of five is relatively stable without social workers, agency visits, or the revolving door of children who sporadically appear and disappear from our lives.  We do our best to be "normal."

Then, the reminders come.  Our children's habits, choices, fears, and thoughts, the very essence of the way they live life...their past...comes flooding back into our lives.  Sometimes, a simple trigger promotes a flashback; something seemingly insignificant can create a mountain of a problem.  On occasion, substantial news or events happen, which lead to a seemingly never-ending string of issues.

One day, while trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy among the adopted teens and almost-teen, I receive a phone call.  A lady identifies herself as someone from our adoption agency; the agency with which we have had no interaction for at least five years.  I feel my back straighten as my eyes roll back in my head, thinking, "What do they want now? Whatever they want must be important, but what do we have to handle now?"  The agency worker explains that our daughter's birth family has a message for us.  Her birth mom passed away.  I thank the worker for the information, even though I really do not want to deal with the ensuing mess.

What do I do now?

Learning through many circumstances, I operate better with seemingly catastrophic information than I previously had.  Stop.  Think.  This is not an emergency.  Do not become all emotionally upset.  Stop.  Think.  Call Jeff once our kids are not listening and make a plan.  Due to family activity, the conversation must wait.  Once we have a few brief moments to process, we develop the first couple steps of an action plan that must have tons of latitude for variance because our knowledge base might change along the way.  We might find new information, which alters our decisions.

Step 1: Verify the information

Accurate info in the foster care and adoption system can be difficult to find.  I search the internet, finding sketchy verification. Finally, I find some authoritative leads.  I place two phone calls,  ending with official evidence that the message is actually true; our adopted daughter's birth mom is indeed dead.

Step 2: Decide what to do with the confirmed information

A friend once said, "In foster care and adoption, give the kids truthful and age-appropriate information."   By far, this is the best advice, and we attempt to put it into practice.  Our daughter is 15 years old.  We must tell her, and we must tell her before the day ends.

Step 3: Actually telling

We wait until the boys are busy.  Jeff tells her, while I just stand near and hug her crying frame as she leans into me.  She soon runs to her bed to cry more.  Jeff and I follow her into her room rubbing her shoulders while she bawls and bawls.  We cry with her.  We cry because we cannot imagine being in her situation.  We hurt with her, but what can we even do to comfort her?  After the initial shock fades, lots of talking and processing ensue.  More plans and actions steps develop to help her navigate through this loss.  The adoption story continues...

Adoption is hard...really hard.  At the end of the day, we still must trust that God has our best interest in mind.  Understanding why this happens escapes me, but I look forward to the good which our Lord will bring.  From good conversations to a renewed sense of trust, God is doing good things through despairing circumstances.  We must focus on the good and not the sorrow.

Blessings
Our daughter has been amazing at handling such sad news.
Our eldest son was able to honestly share some of his thoughts and fears.
We have an amazing church family that has surrounded us with love and compassion, including a 12-year-old adoptee from our church who kindly reached out to our daughter because he lost his birth mom, too.
God continues to mold and shape us into His image as we walk through trials in our lives.

"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I entrust my life."

Psalm 143:8