I’m sorry.

That monumental exchange when your son became my son was more than two years ago. I have not written once. In all honesty, I don’t give you much thought at all. I promised myself that I would. In fact, before yours became mine, in a sentimental-yet-sincere letter to you, I promised that I would remember you, that I would hold you high in my (our?) son’s life. I know that you never read the letter, but still. I promised you. I promised me.

How is it fair or just or decent that I rarely give you a thought? The woman who conceived and carried and birthed my child; the woman somewhere out there in the vast unknown who surely wonders about me more than I wonder about her.

I have broken my word. And I guess this letter is a confession of sorts. A confession of wrong-doing, with no clear idea of what right-doing looks like.

Because I don’t know how to do this. Any of it.

How do I nurture this unnatural relationship I find myself in with a woman who is both an utter stranger and yet whose life and choices are linked to mine in a way that can never be unclasped?

How do I hold you up in my son’s remembrance when I have nothing to raise?

In that pre-adoption letter that you have never received, I thanked you for your gift to my family. I commended your courage. Were those words a platitude? Would you, the woman who gave up so much, take comfort in those words written by me, the woman who understood the magnitude of the giving so little?

Birth mothers are brave. That’s what we all say. It gives us mothers-by-adoption consolation, I think. It gives us a detour from the uncomfortable sense of unfairness that I have him. That he is mine.

Birth mothers are brave, I tell myself so that I can escape the suspicion that you carry an unimaginable load of grief. The uncomfortable sense that I perhaps somehow inflicted your grief by taking him when you gave him.

But are you brave? I wonder. Without a doubt, that moment, that huge moment when everything changed for you, for him, for me…that was brave. But every moment since? When changing your mind was not possible? When the course of The Choice was set and there could be no reverse, no U-turn…were you brave then? Has your bravery endured?

I don’t know how you get through the days, or, God help you, the nights. Maybe you don’t. Maybe your life is hell as you grieve the loss of your child. Do you mourn? Do you regret? Do you keen silently where no one sees as you go on with your days, forever marked by That Day?

Forgive me for not grieving over your grief. For not wearing my knees raw in prayer for the woman who knew my son before I even knew of him. For not carrying you in my heart, as you carried him in your womb.

We are inextricably linked, you and I. By a tender little daydreamer. To know him is to love him. You knew him first, so I can only conclude that you must love him too.

There are many things I know about him that you have no idea of. His sleepy wake-up face. The sweet way he says “Sissie.” How he tells me every day “Me miss Daddy” while Daddy is at work. His hilarious stride as he runs. The way that it took him 7 months to master riding his training bike.

But, you see, there are things that you know about him that I don’t. The feel of his movements in your womb. The time of his birth. What he looked like as he slipped out from you into the world. His biological father’s name.

[eltdf_blockquote text=”And I’m realising that without your son there can be no my son. As he grows, he will want to know more of you. And I wish I could give him more. Because you and I…together we complete him.” title_tag=”h2″ width=””]

He is doing well, our son. Just fine. He loves and he is loved. He is bookended by a big sister and a baby brother. His precious life is surrounded by so many people who adore him. He is precocious and funny and sweet and tender. And he is fine.

With each new revelation of his budding sweet personality that surely could not have come from me, I wonder about you. I think of you. And maybe that can be my gift to you; my hopelessly inadequate show of gratitude to the woman who gave him to me.

The post Dear X appeared first on Proverbs 31.

Foster Mama, I See You

My parents and sisters’ home has been a place of safety for the past 5 years, and they have loved on and launched twelve the children into the arms of their forever families. This piece was written late one night, as I grieved with them over the difficult goodbyes they were saying to “their” little boy, whom they had loved for over a year.

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My journey into motherhood, like so many of my journeys, started with Jesus. Jesus gently leading me to acknowledge the loss of never going to be able to have biological children. Jesus leading me to mourn, to cry, to surrender and to allow Him to heal me. This was hard, but when it was done I was free, free to move on, free to adopt.

Sadly the process of adopting a child in South Africa is marred with tons of red tape, over-worked social workers, a fair amount of prejudice and even what
one would call bureaucratic sabotage. Potential adoptive parents are often left feeling discouraged, powerless and unsupported, especially when trying to finalize the legal aspects of adopting a child.
When we adopted our daughter, who is turning 11 this month, the process was long, laborious and invasive, but I still consider us as one of the lucky ones, in that our adoption didn’t drag on for years and was not hindered by bureaucracy
and grave incompetence. It was however filled with many hours of probing questions, a long list of paper work we had to get done and an extensive waiting period.

We worked with a well known Johannesburg Adoption Agency and after 7 long
months our application was finally submitted and the waiting period started. I
found this period especially tough! We had no feedback from the agency and I
often felt very alone during this time. It takes a fair amount of faith to wait for an
unknown baby. To choose a name for this unknown baby. Prepare a room for
her. To pray for her. An unknown baby from a stranger who we would never
know, but to whom we would be forever connected. There are so many
unknowns when adopting, so many “ifs”, so many questions, doubts and fears.
An overwhelming degree of the adoption process is out of your control, you
really just have to let go and trust God.

The adoption process is emotionally draining. I will never forget the day that our session with our social worker consisted of the following questions: ‘Would you be open to adopting a child with physical disabilities? Would you consider
a baby who’s birth mom was raped? The baby of a drug addict? How about adopting a baby who has a history of mental illness in her family?” One answers these questions prayerfully and with a great deal of sadness and a weighty sense of responsibility.

One Friday morning we got, what is known in adoption circles as “The Call”! We had been matched with a baby. The wait was finally over. Now I finally knew that our little girl was nearly 7 months old and we could finalize the shopping list
and announce the long expected and wonderful news! It is a mad rush to get everything ready, a wonderfully sweet rush! The following week, we flew to Durban to meet our precious little one. As she was placed in my arms the long wait became a distant memory. It was done. Our daughter. At last! The next morning we made a quick court visit and then we brought our prefect little girl home….forever. The wonder of adoption is truly that this little person I have never met before is instantly connected to me. A connection planned and executed by my Heavenly Father. It is really difficult to put into words, but it is as if your heart just opens and receives this precious gift, no questions asked. I accepted and embraced her as my daughter 100%.
Having said that, bonding with your adopted baby does take time. When your baby comes home all is new and the journey from ‘strangers’ to mom-and-baby that unfolds is beautiful and in many ways sacred to me. All relationships take work and attachments take time to form. When we adopted our third baby, my then 5 year old son asked me: ”Mommy how will the baby know you are his mommy?”. I loved the honesty of his question. I told him the the baby would learn to know that I am his mommy as I care for and loved him[eltdf_blockquote text=”The gift of Adoption has taught me that when My Father says we are His children, it means that we are instantly and completely and forever accepted as His. It has taught me to trust God deeply and fully. ” title_tag=”h2″ width=””]. I have learned that when I surrender and allow Jesus in, He becomes intimately involved in the details of my life. I have learnt to ‘go with God’ no matter what, no matter where He leads me. And, whether it makes sense to me or not, I have learnt to trust that He knows best, even and especially when it hurts.

I am now, mother to my four beautiful children and I still stand amazed at how God has worked out the details. How He took 4 motherless children and a childless couple and put us together ….in a family, perfectly matched in Him, forever.

The post Healing…Adoption…Completion appeared first on Proverbs 31.

My name was M*. My home consisted of my biological mother, the man she was living with, an older sister and a younger brother. I have good memories of engaging with my little brother, but other than that, there weren’t many good childhood memories.

My biological mother made me believe I was ugly and worthless; she did this through her harsh words and emotional rejection. I knew no such thing as celebrating Christmas or any of my birthdays. I was there and had to be tolerated. There was no mistaking that I was unwanted and unloved. For a little girl, all I can remember was that I wanted was a loving family.

In 2006, my biological mother told me I needed to pack my things and that I was going on a trip by myself. She told me that a lady would come and pick me up and that I mustn’t be at home when she got back from work. And she left me there, standing in my room. L*(the social worker from Abba Adoptions) came and fetched me. I asked her if she was going to be my ‘new mom’ but she said ‘No’ and promised me that she would find me just the right mom and ‘forever family.’ Until then I was to stay with Tannie B* who was a place of safety. She also looked after special needs babies. I stayed with her for a year. My memory of that time was just of her loving me, caring for me and being so kind. It was the first time real love was shown to me.

While I stayed with her, an Afrikaans family sometimes looked after me on weekends, but it was always temporary, so I figured no-one would ever love me permanently. I remember my first day of becoming a Johnson so clearly. Dad_and_Mom were crying when they came to fetch me and my two brothers were so excited. I was so excited to be going to my new home with my new family who had chosen to love me and make me part of them.

I remember my mom asking me to do something and I just said ‘Yes,’ and she instructed me to say, ‘Yes, Mom.’ It was weird and new and wonderful and strange.

Before I was adopted, Mom lovingly made a scrapbook to introduce each member of my new family – Dad, Mom, my two older brothers and my sister in Heaven. It also had pictures of my new home and a pretty bedroom – just for me.

At the back of the scrapbook was a letter my mom had written explaining why they were giving me a new name; Mika Hope. I asked Tannie B* to read it over and over to me:

Dear M*

We already love you. We have prayed that if God wanted to bring a little girl into our family, He would do it when the time was right and would find the perfect little girl for us.

I know it might seem a little scary for you – but remember, my sweet little one, that God has prepared our family for you and you for our family.

In the Bible, God sometimes changed people’s names when He adopted them into His family. We would like to change your name to one that is similar to your name right now, but will be unique for you in our family.

We would like to change your name to MIKA HOPE. Mika is a name that comes from Japan and means ‘beautiful fragrance.’

We have chosen ‘Hope’ for your second name because no matter what has happened in our lives or what sadness we have gone through, God always gives us hope in Jesus.

We can’t wait for you to become part of our family so that we can start making special memories together.

All my love,

Your new mommy.

In the beginning I kept thinking that no-one would love me permanently. I believed the dream of a family would end soon. But as I began to settle in, I began to realise that I was good enough no matter my stubbornness and faults. As my parents showed God’s love to me, my heart softened and my independent will started changing. God was working in my heart and in all our hearts. He was writing new chapters to my story.

I remember one time, when I was eight, I was invited to a friend’s birthday party. I was the only little girl there who was not white. (That happens quite often when you are adopted into a white family.)

Anyway, my mom had just bought me pretty new sandals which I wore to the party. We then played a party game where we were divided into two teams and a sheet was placed over one team who were lying on the ground. We were covered except for our feet which stuck out. The other team had to guess who the feet belonged to. Before I lay down under the sheet, I ran to my mom and asked her to take my sandals as everyone would guess it was me because of my sandals. It didn’t dawn on me that I was the most obvious one to guess because of my skin colour!

I now have my own testimony of God’s grace and salvation in my life. As I look back, I can see God’s hand and how He was caring and protecting me.

I have been doubly adopted – physically and spiritually.

My identity is Mika Hope Johnson – I am half Coloured, half Indian and completely White.

But it is God’s adoption of me that has given me my true identity.

When God adopts us, He changes our past, our future and everything about us.

“He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace.” (Ephesians 1:4-6)

It is because of God’s adoption of me that I am not rejected because Jesus was rejected on the cross for me so that I could belong to Him and have a heavenly Father.

It is God’s adoption of me that reminds me that I am not unwanted or unloved, because He chose me before the foundation of the world.

It is God’s adoption of me that reminds me that His love is not temporary but that He will love me with an everlasting love.

It is God’s adoption of me that that promises me that He will never leave me nor forsake and that nothing can ever snatch me out of His hand.

God chose to show me this through my earthly adoption into the Johnson family. My family. My ‘forever family.’ God chose to do this through the work of Jesus on the cross. Adoption is a picture of the Gospel of Grace. I am grateful to be part of that story and to know that God is still writing my story. And because God is the author, I know it is a beautiful story and a good story and it will have a wonderful ending.

Mika is 17 years old and currently in Grade 11. Visual Art is her favourite subject at school and her after school activities include Highland Dancing and Hockey. She is planning on studying Nursing when she finishes school.

Continue to read this beautiful love story here as told from her mom’s perspective, our very own Prov31 contributor Leanne Johnson.

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