Expectations. They are pretty natural. We all have them. We have them for ourselves and we have them for others.

There are a couple different definitions for expectation… “a strong belief that something will happen or be the case in the future” and “a belief that someone will or should achieve something”. From those two definitions alone this blog entry pretty much writes itself.

Adoption is FILLED with expectations…and although we have been pursuing for a while we are still only in the early stages of adoption. I know that as we move through this process these expectant feelings will only intensify. These feelings can be basic such as, “we expect that we will have children though adoption someday.” But just think about the expectations surrounding that sentence alone. I know when I hear it, I conjure up thoughts in my head about what my family, holidays, and school will/should look like.  And I know you do too! Guess what, some of those thoughts are correct and some of those thoughts will be proven to be false. For both of us.

So what happens when expectations are proven false? We have all felt disappointment when others in our lives don’t live up to our expectations of them. We have all felt the bitter sting when friends and family don’t seem to share in our biggest moments with us in a way we expect. Does that make the expectation wrong?

Okay, so here is where I’m caught. It’s important for me to be highly variable with my expectations around the expansion of my family and what that looks like. I need to walk through the adoption process “eyes wide open”. If I don’t, how I can truly open myself up and be accepting of what my family might look like, sound like, and act like. I have to be expectant of pretty much all future behaviors, situations, and scenarios in order to educate myself in the best ways of handling those. Only then will I be doing myself and my future family justice.

If we can learn to let go of our expectations a little, we are much less likely to put others and ourselves under too much pressure to be ‘perfect’. We are much less likely to feel disappointment when others don’t act how we expect them to, or how we would like them to.

So here’s the rub. I understand we need to learn to accept others for who they are. I get (and hopefully do) that. Does this mean I shouldn’t have expectations of my friends, their thoughts, words or actions as it pertains to my adoption story? I have thought long and hard about this. Do they just not know what to expect? Should I expect that they not educate themselves because they aren’t the ones going through it? Maybe it’s an issue of me having too high of or false expectations of who they should be and how they should act?

As I ponder some of those pretty serious questions, it dawns on me that maybe none of it really makes any sense. Then the reality hits:

WHEN YOU LEARN TO ACCEPT INSTEAD OF EXPECT YOU WILL HAVE FEWER DISAPPOINTMENTS.

This doesn’t mean I shouldn’t/don’t have expectations of others and myself through this process. It does mean that I have to accept how others think, feel, react, and don’t react to my story. I expect one behavior and, in most cases, have to accept something else. From both others and myself. So what has that taught me? Sometimes people don’t get it. Sometimes I don’t get it. Both of those are okay as long as one expectation is met. I try and you try. That is the bare minimum expectation that when not met I just can’t accept. From either of us.

~Eli

Approximately two and a half years ago Eli and I decided to expand our family through adoption. The decision was made after having two miscarriages, but don’t let that fool you, it was not made for us. We chose and still choose adoption. A biological family wasn’t necessary for us. Around the time that we made this decision we felt so excited. We knew that this was exactly where we were meant to be. We researched agencies, talked to lawyers and adoption experts, and attended informational meetings. We stood at the edge of the lake just ready to jump in headfirst.

I now cringe at the “adoption newbie” I was at that point.

Today Eli and I attended one of three informational sessions to pursue the next step of our journey to adopt. To update you all we are pursuing public adoption of children, specifically sibling groups, out of foster care (side note: the number one goal of foster care is reunification, and we are not only very aware of it, but we also vehemently support it). But let’s face it…we have now relinquished to the fact that who knows where we will end up.

So exciting, right? No, that’s what I felt and thought as I sat in a chair at a private adoption agency two and a half years ago looking at adopting a cute and cuddly infant from a brave first mom (again my naiveté showing). The lake that we had just jumped headfirst into began to slowly but surely freeze. Today, being very well informed, we walked into an informational session that we already knew most of the information for, but that was required of us. We were updated on the two licenses we would have to hold, the 30+ hours of training we would have to do, among other things. That isn’t what made me cringe at the wide-eyed Chelsea of two and a half years ago. Today I didn’t feel excited. The ice on the lake became super thick at this point and was strong enough to walk on.

Don’t get me wrong…I am eager to begin parenting, especially with such a great partner in Eli, but I’m not excited. Why? The children who will come to me through adoption will be coming to me after being removed from their first home. This is a devastating event to have to deal with, regardless of the reasons for removal. Then they will be placed in a foster home, will spend an extended time there, before being placed in an adoption permanence resource. Notice how I said “the children who will come to me through adoption”? Perspective, and a little bit of wisdom, has allowed me to really notice that it isn’t my place to call them my “future children”. Not when their first families are fighting like hell to keep their family together. This is where the very frozen lake we had been walking on began to shatter, but not break. We could still walk on it.

See I’m not excited because I’m aware.

This is going to be a really hard journey. But it should be…especially for us as future adoptive parents. Why? Because it shouldn’t be easy to take a child away from their first family. Every attempt possible should be made to assist a child in remaining with their biological family, whether that be their biological mother and father or their biological extended family. Because the children who come to us through adoption will hurt and long and ache for their first family. As they should. The trauma of losing a first family is a big wound, and we understand that. Because nothing is as simple as it seems.

Awareness is key, and I’ve really learned that in the two and half years. It isn’t about your “missing puzzle piece”. It isn’t about cute little blackboard signs acknowledging the addition to your family. It isn’t about acting like this child’s DNA and biology doesn’t matter. What it’s about is the willingness to open your eyes to just how monumental it is for a child to adjust to his or her identity of being adopted.

So for those of you who have been closely following our journey…we aren’t confused, although I know at times it may seem like we are. As a matter of fact, I think we have more clarity than ever, even if it is still a little a cloudy. See, sometimes the water is liquid and you jump in headfirst and realize it’s just not the right time to swim. Eventually the lake freezes over, becomes crystal clear and you can walk on it. And even though that big crack exists and it looks like you are going to fall through you don’t. It supports you, holds your weight, provides a sense of stability. And it’s at that moment you realize you should have been standing on the lake the whole time and not swimming in it.

~Chelsea and Eli