I’m sitting at my dining room table with a delicious candle lit in front me, some great music (Billy Raffoul) blasting in the background, and the most beautiful scene of snowflakes dancing in the air as the beautiful camp I call home is under a blanket of snow.  It really is ironic isn’t it…to describe a blizzard as beautiful.  

Ever try explaining the Midwest winters to someone who has never experienced one?  We complain a lot about them, but we Midwesterners tend to take great pride in trying to really explain a true blizzard.  It’s hard to get across exactly what it’s like, isn’t it?  But we try.  We include details about the flakes stinging our cheeks, of the feeling of trudging through “feet” of snow, how it feels to plop into a freshly fallen snow bank, and the terror of driving through a true blizzard.  Even with all of our detailed descriptions somehow our attempt at trying to convey a true snowstorm or blizzard to someone who hasn’t experienced one just seems to fall short. 

Everyone has seen a blizzard or a snowstorm on TV.  But often that reference point is just one storm.  Just one experience.  Going through the experience of adoption feels very similar and even more so for an informed, ethical, eyes-wide open adoption.  How does one take something like this and put it into words?  I guess that has what has always been part of the purpose of our blog—to give people a glimpse, a real-word view of this process.  To help them to understand the crazy simplexity of adoption.  The beauty.  The loss. The lack of control.  The education. The loneliness.  The love.  

There are things about adoption that I could tell you, but until you throw on your snowshoes and stomp into the depth of the snowstorm or blizzard, you won’t appreciate the magnitude, ironic beauty, and terrifying temperatures.  That’s the crazy juxtaposition—it can be all of those things.  Now let’s face it…we maybe will never get to experience a true Midwest snowstorm or blizzard.  We may never choose to adopt children.  But that doesn’t mean we just listen to the narrative on The Weather Channel or a terrible Lifetime movie in the case of adoption.  See, I’ve been forced to allow myself to acclimate to this blizzard that can be adoption.  But it’s not because I’ve just seen it, played in it, and experienced it.  It’s because I forced myself to venture further out into it through listening to the voices of first parents and birth parents, adoptees, and other adoptive families.  I have been devouring literature that stretches far beyond the adoption world—encompassing trauma informed care, the complexities of race, white fragility, among many other things.  

So whether you are looking through the window at our adoption experience, are trying to navigate the deep snow or are experiencing the freezing temperatures of adoption, know that snow keeps falling, the cold is still frigid and the journey continues.  Not easy to describe the simplexity of either a blizzard or adoption, but both are awesome in an overwhelming sort of way.

~Chelsea

I know that I’ve done a fair number of posts on activism and speaking out against injustice, and after this weekend, and past precedent, I feel I need to do one more (but beware, there may be more to come in the future).  

Let’s just start off with clearing up a few things: Eli and I adopting is not a form of activism.  For one, that’s not okay, and two that has nothing to do with why we are adopting. Secondly, activism has been and always will be a part of my life.  On the eve of Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I believe so strongly in his words, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter.”

See lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of rhetoric about “hating politics” and “people are just being too sensitive” and “why can’t we all just get along?”. And that’s all fine and well until it means justifying as well degrading, dehumanizing, and discrediting humanity.  Where have we gotten?  Those things have nothing to do with politics and all about being silent about the things that matter.  

I’ve always tried to be informed, and I really prided myself on awareness…but sadly and shamefully, my privilege (and let’s face it, the blindness to my privilege) has allowed me to not be “woke”.  Over the last few years, and more specifically in my search for knowledge in this journey to adopt, I’ve “opened my eyes”.  I’m ashamed that this is what it took for me to feel the urgency, but if I’m being honest, it has been my path.  And now that I’m aware, I’m pissed off.  

I’m done with political excuses.

I’m over people being tired of “hard conversations”.

I’m through with “I didn’t really mean it” or “it’s just a joke”.

And I want to throw up from ignorant Facebook posts to justify bigotry, hatred, racism, sexism, xenophobia, and homophobia. 

My journey to adopt has awakened my faith as a Christian.  And what that means is that I cannot and will not be silent about things that matter.  My faith tells me this.  You may not see the correlation between this post and our possible future family. And that saddens me because it has everything to do with it.  

I used to side-step around these conversations or “let it go” unless it was “overtly” racist, dehumanizing, homophobic, etc.  See my privilege let me do that.  But I’m over that.  I’m aware.  My eyes are open.

So when you say the “funny” joke…I’m offended.

And when you wonder why I’m so sensitive, it’s because it’s wrong.

When you justify bigoted behavior, I plan to lovingly but intentionally let you know about how your behavior is bigoted.

As you say, “What am I supposed to do?”, I’m happy to give you a plethora of resources.

And I may scroll past the hurtful, racist, harmful Facebook posts, but I’ll probably un-follow you, and it’s not because “I don’t agree with your politics”, but more because I can’t support hateful, racist agendas.

So upon reading this post, some of you may be offended, and I’m okay with that. I have no shame about speaking out against hatred and injustice. I couldn’t keep these words out of my mouth (or off of my keyboard) any longer.  The time is too dire…”if not me then who.”  I’m done posting MLK quotes, but not living by them each and every day.

“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” –Martin Luther King Jr.

~Chelsea

We share a lot of our lives through this blog—hopes, fears, learning curves (as cringe-worthy as they may be), and experiences, among many other things.  Just so you are certain and aware, we don’t share it all.  We definitely practice discretion—for the sake of our potential future children and for ourselves.  So what does that mean?

We’ve read profiles, said “no”, been told “no”, waited for and sat through very important meetings and phone calls, and have searched the depths of our soul to make sure we are ALWAYS making informed, ethical, and responsible decisions. And sometimes we ask for support and advice, but more often than many can imagine we rely a lot on faith, one another, those in the adoption community, and the wisdom we have tried to obtain throughout this journey. 

Our situation is really unique and heart wrenchingly beautiful.  I love children that aren’t mine. My potential future children have a history and it is far more complicated that just finding them an “Eli” and “Chelsea”. And although I am so excited to add children to my family, there is pain in knowing that I won’t know the foods they’ve never tried, or rocked them to sleep when they were restless, or taught them to read their first words.  But the beauty is that I will get every intentional first and I won’t take a one of those firsts for granted.  

            The first time they let me hug them—the willing, full, strong hug.

            The first time I see their shoulders relax and them see our house as a safe place.

            I never expect it, but the first time they willingly call me “Mom” or call Eli “Dad”.

Our future family may look different, but it will encompass so much more than what I ever could have imagined (and the wait, education, and perseverance set me up for this)…our children’s past, adjusting to the present, and making way for the future.

Currently, we are at a new juncture of our adoption journey, and we aren’t really sure if it will push us left, right, or forward. We know you all don’t know our path…and we don’t exactly know our path, but we also know we aren’t sharing it all anyways (we know you understand). But please know that no matter where we end up…we are the lucky ones, the blessed ones to be able to choose this experience. The children that we already love didn’t have a choice—and the simplex thing about that is that it doesn’t make them lucky or blessed if they end up with us.  

~Chelsea