The Chronicles of Munchkin Land

This has been a whirlwind weekend and it is not quite over yet. On Friday and for most of today, I was at the Women of Faith conference in Columbus, Ohio. Tomorrow I’m speaking at the National Adoption Conference at the American Adoption Congress in Cleveland, Ohio.

And today I turned 28. See? Whirlwind.

When I initially agreed to attend Women of Faith with a group from my church and speak at the AAC conference, I didn’t realize they were on the same weekend. When I realized my over-booking mistake, I just sucked it up and kept my commitments, aware that this weekend would leave me absolutely exhausted by the time it came to an end.

It wasn’t until last night that I came to understand why things happened this way.

Steven Curtis Chapman was at the Women of Faith conference last night. If you are not familiar with his work, he is the most decorated Christian recording artist. Ever. And on May 21, 2008, a horrible accident involving one of his sons and his youngest daughter resulted in the loss of that sweet little girl. I remember hearing the news and crying in sadness and shock. I’ve spent the past (almost) year praying for the family (just like I continue to pray for the Spohr family at the recent loss of little Maddie).

What I didn’t mention in the previous paragraph is that the Chapman family’s youngest daughter was adopted. Three girls total were adopted by the Chapman family from China. So, obviously, the news of her passing last year left me spinning. Dealing with everything that I was dealing with last year, it was something that I couldn’t even spend time thinking about without crying. Let’s think about last year for just a quick second: post-partum depression on my part, my daughter’s parents separated and in May of last year, I was one month away from a year of not seeing my daughter due to scheduling problems on all parts. My heart broke for the Chapman family. My heart broke for a birth mother, light years away, who (most likely) in the depths of her heart abandoned her daughter to give her a better life. I spent some time being angry with God for the loss of little Maria Chapman. How was death a better life?

Much like I had a few stern conversations with God when my daughter’s parents first separated.

But like my heart was softened and comforted through much prayer (on my part and the parts of others) and I came to realize that my daughter’s life was still amazing, Steven Curtis Chapman was able to talk last night of the beautiful memories Maria made in the time she had in their family. He admitted that he doesn’t have it all figured out just yet. And that? Was more of what I needed to hear. I don’t always know or understand why everything has happened the way it has in our lives. Why did I really have to place my daughter? Why, especially when I so desired that two parent home, did divorce enter her life? And what does the future hold for the lot of us? But as Chapman went on to sing about the beautiful song Cinderella, about not missing a dance with his daughter(s) before they were gone (which had a different meaning after the loss of Maria), I was stuck by the weight of it all.

I am thankful that I didn’t spend too long being angry at how things have changed in our adoption journey. Why? I don’t want to miss dancing with my daughter or watching her dance through this life. I know that she is being raised just fine. I know that she is loved beyond measure. And unlike Chapman and little Maria… I can hold her again. I can love her with kisses and hugs and laughter.

And this? This is the hard stuff of open adoption. While Chapman’s international adoptions are not open, horrible, unimaginable losses like this don’t just happen to internationally adopting families. Open adoption adoptees are in accidents. They pass away. Adoptive families are not magically immune to this stuff. They get sick, sometimes horribly so. They separate. They divorce. They deal with layoffs. And loss of medical insurance. And everything else that the rest of the world deals with. And we’re not giving adoptive or birth families in open adoption the right tools to deal with these issues … together.

Don’t misread me. Adoptive families need to deal with their own issues on their own. My daughter’s mom has done a great job at dealing with her emotions regarding everything, parenting those two awesome kids and generally being who and what she needs to be. But there’s no book that instructs other adoptive moms who have to wear her shoes as to how to best divulge the hard information to members of the birth family. When I really stopped to think of how scary it must have been, each time new things happened, to come to me with that information, my heart breaks for her! Similarly, birth parents aren’t even being counseled as to how things like this CAN happen in adoptive families… let alone how to deal with and process those things when and if they do happen.

In the end, I learned a lot about myself last night. I don’t always understand this … stuff. This hard stuff. But I do know that I am blessed to be have a presence in my daughter’s life. Or, rather, I am blessed to have her presence in my life. To know that she is so loved… should be any birth parent’s deepest prayer.

Before you go, have a listen to Steven Curtis Champan’s “Cinderella” … and then go dance with your children.