It was a day like every other.
Eat breakfast, play with baby brother, get dressed, brush teeth, make bed, and start school work.
I love it when the “nothing special” days turn into ones with deep purpose.
The kind of days you couldn’t manipulate to play out so well are the ones that remind us not to trust in our well thought out timelines.
Adoption is honestly not at the front of my mind anymore.
It was for the first 2 years, when every other person stopped us to ask where she was from .
When we adopted our baby, I had a lot of “later” questions.
I knew we would snuggle, eat lots of rice, keep her blanket from Korea close at all times, and squeeze her chunky legs all day long.
I did not like thinking about the hard questions that would come as this little girl began to grow up.
I knew that one day she would need to grieve the loss of her Birth-mother and begin to process her story, on her level, for her age.
We have never hid her adoption story. We would never take away or even make light of such bravery displayed in the life of her birth-mom.
But honestly… I’ve been fearful. We’ve always kept pictures of her Foster Momma, watched videos of her being cared for, and brought out keepsakes given to her in Korea each year on her adoption day.
I had peace about waiting for her to ask questions when she wanted to know more.
Well, the day came in the most precious way it could for a second grade little girl.
She came down the stairs from the schoolroom to tell me she had finished reading her book Charlotte’s Web.
She softly said, “I finished Momma. It was a reallllly good book but it had a sad ending.”
“Tell me about it.”, I offered.
She shared, “Well… Charlotte had like 500 babies but then she didn’t get to see them grow up because she died.”
“Oh Sis, that is a sad ending…” As if I’d never read the story.
She went on, “Do you think my birth-mom was sad that she couldn’t keep me and see me grow up?”
“Molly – I know she was sad. She said so and we have all of her words in writing on your hospital paperwork for you to see when you get older.”
Even deeper she went, “Well Charlotte knew her babies would have a good life even without her and that made it not so terrible to leave them.
So that’s kind of like me. I have a good life even though she couldn’t raise me but she knew I would be okay with my family.”
At this point we are both teary and for the first time I see the connection of loss and the reality of what really took place 7 years ago in that South Korean hospital.
All these years I had been waiting and wondering how this void in her story would come into focus.
She continued to question, “Is she still alive?”
I told her I hoped so and maybe when she’s grown up we could go to Korea and try to thank her.
In in that moment the tears dried up. The sadness lifted and she was content for now.
I know her curiosity will grow and we can walk through that when the time comes.
God reminded me that the unfolding of truth to our kids hearts does not always have to be planned out.
Teachable moments happen daily and I miss plenty of them!
I will never be a perfect Mom for her but I am the Mom God chose to raise her up in this family, for His purpose that either of us will ever fully understand.
Today I’m praying that on the other side of the world, a mother knows that the baby girl she carried and gave birth too now recognizes her deep sacrifice.