Zu Turns 11 This Week!

Zu in October this year.

  

Our second-to-youngest daughter turns 11 this week. And she is so excited!

Birthdays are awesome: they literally celebrate the miracle of our birth and lives.

But because our children were born for us, and not through us, I feel like the miracle of their births/lives is even more miraculous-er. (PS: If you are new to the blog, we were able to adopt all 6 of our bambinos.)

Anyway, my main point!
 

Zu loves to ask me to "tell stories about when we were able to adopt her." And to be honest, I love to tell our kids their adoption stories--because adopting each one of them has been a pretty incredible process and experience. Probably the most spiritual experiences of my life--outside of meeting and marrying Dave. 

And since I don't think I've ever shared this here on the blog before, I thought today would be the perfect day to share Zu's adoption story:

Sidenote: I've tried to share as much as possible, while still maintaining some privacy for Zu and her birth-family (because they each have their own perspective with the adoption, too). So this entry represents my perspective of Zu's adoption.

Zu at age 5, Halloween.

 

Zu's Adoption: 

And The Two Families Who Love Her To No End

Shortly after Dave finished graduate school, we moved from Utah to Los Angeles, California. At that time we had three children: Jay, Bam, and Papaya. (Who we also were able to adopt.)

With each adoption, we have always felt grateful for our family size. We never went into adoption with an end-goal/family size in mind (despite Dave's suggestion that I would have a family of 20 if he'd hop on board). We always felt that those decisions were somewhat outside of our full control.

As we have gone through each adoption experience, we've just hoped for direction as to when our family was "complete." (For us, this was based primarily on a kind of prayer and spiritual guidance/feeling. Well, that and Dave's logical feelings about whether we could adequately care and provide for a family of X size.)

And it was while living in California, we felt pretty strongly that we'd like to adopt again--if that was a possibility.

We researched international and domestic adoption. We researched foster care and fost-adoption programs in our state. We also considered international adoption through our church adoption agency; although that program was closed shortly after we'd made application. (We'd adopted twice through our church adoption agency and once privately up to this point.)

And based on our positive experience with our church adoption agency, we decided to work with them again. 

Now, as part of the church agency adoption approval process, the State of California required us to be certified as foster parents, in addition to meeting church agency requirements. And as a result of that certification, we learned about foster care and realized that may be a possibility for our family. This was the first time we'd considered adopting an child older or sibling group. (Our first three children were infants when we were able to adopt.)

For the next 7 months, we foster-parented several young children and a sibling group of 3 (they were 5, 10, and 13 year old). It was a really positive, difficult, sometimes heart-breaking experience. We are better people for having spent time with each of those children. And hopefully, that's the same for them. Although, unfortunately, we were unable to permanently adopt any of these children. 8(

At this point in our adoption journey, personally, I was feeling pretty discouraged. I just wasn't confident that foster-parenting was something I could do long-term. And I wasn't sure how it would impact our current family long-term. (Although, I've learned that impact was positive. It changed all of us and our thinking about our connections to one another on Planet E.)

So we expressed these worries to our social worker at the church adoption agency, Kyle. (Kyle--who has since become one of our dearest friends. Like family. Truly.) And Kyle suggested we wait and see if a birthmother may select us through the traditional adoption route at their agency (which would be waiting for an expectant mother to select our family from a pool of adoptive applicants).

We agreed. But honestly, I wasn't sure we'd be selected. I thought "How ungrateful will we seem? Here we have three children and we're considering a fourth? Wouldn't a birthparent look for a family who doesn't have a child at all?"

But we decided to wait and see. (Kind of a long time. More than a traditional pregnancy.)

But one day while I was at a sandwich shop with our kids, Kyle called and said, "I think I have a birthparent who is interested in placing with you. But, it's what we call a high-risk placement. The daughter is older (a little under 2 yo) and her birthfather may contest the adoption. Also, we'd need to process this somewhat soon. Like, could you meet the family tomorrow?"

"Heck yes, we can," I said. Not knowing Dave's work schedule or whether I could lose 15lbs overnight. (To this day, I don't know why I think about weight a lot--it's those Cabbage Patch knees. And every magazine I've ever bought. I blame society. Not me. LOL.)

Thankfully, it all worked out. Dave's schedule was flexible and I realized I didn't need to think about anything BUT this birthfamily and daughter (vs. my EGO).

And we met Sweet Baby Zu a short 24 hours later.

At that time, Zu was little younger than this:

Sweet Zu: 2.5 years old

We instantly LOVED her guts. 

She was sweet and cherub-like. Her hair was dark brown in a baby ponytail on top of her head (like a ballerina/slicked back). She had on a cute purple tiny-flowered dress and white tennis shoes.  She was all-toddler. She was smiley, had chubby cheeks, and cute dark brown eyebrows (that were super expressive).

And most importantly, Jay, Bam, Papaya, and Zu had an immediate connection. They wanted her to drive home with us right then and there.

(PS: I'm not sure how Zu felt about us on that first visit--she is too young to remember. But in all honesty, I think she was cautious and somewhat confused about all that was going on. She would play with us, but she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about us.)

After that initial meeting with Zu and her family, we were able to have 3 or 4 other meetings (each longer than the previous one), and then scheduled an overnight visit with her (in order to see if she/we all felt comfortable about moving foward with the adoption plan). (**This process is unique for children older than an infant--because social workers are very cautious about making a good match. They don't want children moved once a decision has been made.)

The "sleepover" was scheduled for a Friday/Saturday and we were ready! We had everything in place: movies to watch, pizza dinner planned, Dora the Explorer games, and sleeping bags ready for the kids to pile into the TV room for the night. We were SO excited and I remember feeling strongly that this was meant to be. 

I don't know how to explain it, but it felt natural and easy whenever we were around Zu. For everyone. Us, our kids, and even her birthmom--as difficult as that decision was for her. (At the time, her birthmom wasn't parenting Zu full-time. Zu was spending time between extended family members for much of her first 18 months, so her birthmom was feeling that it was best for Zu to have a stable, consistent two-parent home.)

(I know, so many details. Sorry!)

So fast-forward to Sleepover Friday: the kids and I are on a congested LA freeway heading to Zu's birthmom's home. 

Half-way through the drive, Kyle-the-social-worker calls and says, "Change of plans. Her birthmom feels good about the match. She wants you and Dave to be her daughter's parents. Are you feeling good about moving forward? And if so, can we plan on you taking temporary custody of her tonight. Like in a few hours?"

"You mean no sleepover?" I asked.

Kyle replied, "Lots of sleepovers. Like every night until the adoption is finalized."

I couldn't believe it. And yet it felt totally right to me. 

But there was one little glitch: Dave wasn't with me. He was still at work. Could I really pick up Zu for a sleepover and then run by Dave's work and say, "Surprise! She's sleeping over for the next 18 years."?

Probably not. 

So even though I wanted to just scream for joy and tell Kyle, "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes." I had to tell him that I needed to check with Dave before I confirmed it all. 

Fortunately, once I was able to reach Dave at work he didn't hesitate for a minute. He was Total Dave-man: "That's great. Let's go get our new daughter. I'm on my way and will meet you there," he said.

And 2 (LONG) hours later (LA traffic!), Dave met the kids, Kyle, and myself at Zu's birthmom's home and we began signing papers and talking about the transition process.

I don't know that I will ever be able to translate into words what the experiences that day were like. I had never witnessed a birthmother signing adoption/relinquishment papers. It was such a mix of emotions: My heart was so happy for our family and yet, I couldn't think of anything but Zu's birthmom and the pain of this decision. 

We all cried. A lot.

That day, those hours, with Zu's birthmom during the transition taught me a great deal about a parent's love for her children.

It humbled me. And I don't think I have ever been the same since that day. 

I've seen--in person--what unconditional love is. I've seen someone make an incredible sacrifice, and possibly endure long-term sorrow, in order to make a decision they believed would be best for their child, the one they love.

I will always remember that. And every day I try my best to carry that with me as I make decisions: put love and others before self-interest.

After a lot of paperwork, tears, and discussion, it was finally time for us to take Zu home.

If I thought the paperwork process was painful, that was NOTHING compared to the actual "transition" of Zu from one family to another.

At this point I felt like part of me was going to burst. It was SO painful to see her birthmom let go. I promise, if I could have transferred that pain to myself, I would have done it in a heartbeat.

But thankfully Zu's birthmom was so gracious and generous she said, "You need to go. And as soon as you start driving, make sure you play the music really loud. Like loud rap music would be best. She loves it. She loves to dance. As long as the music's on, she'll be fine."

And so we hugged, promised to keep in touch and let her know how the first night went, and loaded everyone into the car.

Zu's birthfamily stood on the sidewalk waving and crying as we pulled away ...

radio blasting to the funkiest rap-song I've ever heard.

And as I looked into the backseat/childseat to make sure Zu seemed okay, I found her bobbing her head and tapping her shoes to the music.

Her birthmom was right: we were all going to be okay.

Not perfect.

Not pain-free.

But okay.

I know Zu's adoption was meant to be. We feel so connected to her (and her birthfamily). We don't see them often, but they do know how she is doing, and I truly believe we are connected to them very much like family.

And thankfully, Zu knows she has two families who love her to no end.

Zu and LuLu as "Captains Underpants." (Hilarious to me.)

PS: Please forgive any typos. I'd call this draft form. I still have some revision/editing to do.