Ripples

The world may not change if you adopt a child, but for that child, their world will change. ~unknown

For the past seven to eight years, my siblings and I have enjoyed a family tradition that we call FaceBlasting on Facebook for birthdays. Sometimes we upload new and embarrassing photos from years past. Sometimes that means we "like" every picture they have ever posted, which brings old photos and posts to the forefront, and all our collective friends join in and add to the blasting. This tradition has become one of my favorite Leaphart rituals. I would feel slighted now if I didn't get this massive Facebook attention each year on my birthday. Some years it is all fun and games. And other years, the sentiments are profound and heartfelt. A few years ago, one of my sisters posted the above quote and wrote that there are many such quotes about how an adopted child's life is changed. But little is said about the lives the adopted child touches and changes. In her own words,

"And I'm sure Caroline's world was changed as the quote says. What you never see are quotes about how the adopted child impacts their family. Caroline changed my world. I can't imagine a life without her and how I would have made it through childhood alive and in one piece. She is my sister, friend, cohort, defender, silliness buddy and everything in between. She was a gift to our family and filled a hole that was missing and made us complete."

 A year or two later, my other sister posted this on my birthday,

"… my siblings are one of my greatest blessings - especially Caroline! If you don't know, Caroline was adopted but I honestly can't even remember when I "found out" that's how she became a part of our family. She just always was MY SISTER, always deeply loved and always a part of the Leaphart family DNA. I celebrate her today because I love her so much - she is hilarious and infinitely creative (if you haven't seen her dog's TikTok you are really missing out!), she is a beautiful writer, she loves with her whole heart, she works hard to bring health and joy to her residents at work and she cares so deeply for each of us "Leaphart siblings." Caroline, I am so lucky to be loved so deeply by you. I love you more than you can know and I'm so glad you have become a part of who I am!"

And from my brother this year,

"Fifty-four years ago I got a baby sister. It was a little different process than normal in that I got to help pick her out. She's always been special and I love her so very much. I am also proud of all the great things she has done personally and professionally. Love you Luce!!"

All families have tough times, ups and downs, and life with an adopted child is no different, except maybe there are a few more ups and downs. Or maybe there will be more smiles and laughter.

I love watching the movie It's a Wonderful Life at Christmas. A story about a man, George Bailey, who gave up his dreams to help others, and for most of the movie, he considers what life would be like if he had never been born.

And after my sister wrote her words to me on my birthday those years ago, I tried to imagine what my family would look like if I hadn't been there. Would life have been easier? Harder? Would there have been as much mirth and silliness? Their lives would have been different. But thankfully, I was there, and while life wasn't always easy, there were many adventures and Leaphart shortcuts along the way.

Each of us is like a pebble tossed onto a pond, creating ripples that go on and on. I found my birthmother in the late 1990s. That reunion filled a hole in my heart that I didn't know was there, and that story is for another time. I wished she had kept me for many years, but that wasn't part of my life plan. My life would have been different, maybe not better or worse, but different. But, most notably not part of the plan.

From my half-sister, who I consider a whole-sister and with whom I have developed a loving and meaningful relationship,

"I know you love me. I know you love my children and I know you want what a sibling wants, for her sister to be happy. I love you for so many reasons. Thank you for being there. I love you."

I am forever grateful that He placed me in the Leaphart family, not only for myself but for my treasured siblings and our parents. Although we haven't always been close, you know, those ups and downs I mentioned earlier, I can't imagine growing up without them. I may have filled a hole in their lives, but they became my life, my whole world. After I connected with my birth mom, I was conflicted – who was I now? It took a little processing, but I realized that while I will always be a Leaphart, I'm also part of my birth mother's family. You've heard of blended families; I'm a blended person. I'm a product of the love and environment I was raised in, and the love and DNA I was born with. If my birth mom hadn't chosen adoption, I might not have the relationship I treasure with her and my sister. Truthfully, I might not have a lot of things. But adoption was part of my plan.

I've not only accepted that fact, but I also revel in the words of Jeremiah 29:11: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you." He set my plan in motion, as He does for everyone, but maybe adoption has helped me realize the truth of these words more easily.

Whether we realize it or not, we leave an imprint on the lives and relationships we encounter. Our pebbles continue creating ripples as our lives touch and impact others. 

What is Adoption?

"Does anyone know what adoption means?" my Sunday school teacher asked. Being adopted myself, I was pretty sure I knew what it meant, but I wasn't talking. I don't remember how old I was when this happened, but based on the classroom in the church I think we were in Kansas, so I would have been in third grade. Or close enough if I've got the wrong church in mind. With so many moves from the Army, it is easy to get them kind of confused in my head.

Anyway, I wasn't about to give an answer because I didn't want to draw attention to myself. None of the other kids answered, so the teacher answered herself. Turns out the word adoption means you can inherit from the parents. Well, that didn't sound quite right at all to me, so after church I asked my mom what she thought. She didn't agree either. And now, years later, I suspect she had a talk with that teacher. But I also recognize the teacher was trying to make the point that as God's adopted children, we can inherit all the good things He has for those He loves.

My parents have died, and yes, there was an inheritance, but being adopted means so much more than being able to inherit. From the dictionary, the word means to legally take (another's child) and bring it up as one's own." Simple words to describe a complex concept. There are three sides to understanding adoption. The child, the birth parents, and the adoptive parents. Adopting.com has a great article about this but allow me to paraphrase here based on my situation.  

From my perspective (the child), adoption was a loss in order to gain. I suffered a profound loss before I was ever adopted. I lost the one person I knew in the world, and at five weeks old was given to strangers for the rest of my life. My heritage and genetic makeup were the only things I took into this relationship. But for years, they would only surface sometimes at the doctor's office. So while adoption is almost always for the child's good, it took much time for me to sort out this realization. Over time, I saw my adoption as an act of love – from my birth mother, who gave me the gift of a better life, and from my parents, who chose to love me, one not of their flesh, as their own. They loved me as their own, and I love them as my own.

For my birth mother, adoption was a heart-wrenching decision, even though she knew it was the best and right thing. Until we reunited, she lived with loss and grief for years. However, she never stopped thinking about me or loving me. Her love for me drove her decision to consider adoption.

My (adopted) parents took me by choice into relationship (Webster's dictionary). By the way, I dislike the term adopted parents. My parents are my parents. They may not have brought me into this world, but they loved me into life and cared for me as their own. My parents had one child but wanted more and didn't think they were able to conceive again. So, as generous as they both were, adoption was a natural fit for them. They had lots of love to give and loved me from the moment they saw me. Mom said that when she held me in her arms for the first time, she knew I would belong to her forever.

I recently read a story about a man who has four children, and he forgets which two were adopted. This sentiment mirrors my life. My parents never treated me any differently than my siblings. I was disciplined the same, cherished the same, had the same amount of time and money spent on me, and was loved the same. Well, maybe they loved me just a little bit more sometimes, but I suspect we all felt that way in my family. What a blessing that is – to feel you are the favorite child. My father wrote letters to all of us during our lives. I treasure the letters he wrote me; I have one where he said I was the answer to all his prayers. My dad had the innate ability to make everyone he connected with feel unique and worthy. My heavenly Father is the same. We are all His favorites. He whispers this truth in our ears, and if we dare to believe, it will change everything.  

What does adoption mean to you? If you aren't adopted, have a relationship with anyone who is adopted, or put a child up for adoption, you may not have given it any thought.

I see earthly adoption as a tangible picture of God's love. It's a selfless gift of love that doesn't always receive recognition. And the act of adoption from my adoptive parents and my birth mother is courageous kindness, a term I have come to know recently. My parent's love and generosity brought me into a life I never could have imagined. My birth mother's act of intentional kindness changed my life. She did what she thought was best for her and me, and it was the right decision. And I thank her for being brave enough to allow my parents to take me into their home and into their hearts.