My husband Eric and I met in college music theory in 1998. We dated for two years, were engaged for a year, and finally married in 2001. We had determined that we would wait two years before starting a family. But God had different plans for us.

After 10 years of trying have a baby, we went in for testing. When the diagnosis came back that we were infertile and would never have biological children, we were shocked but not devastated. It was then I remembered the adoption prayer that I had found when I was 14. Almost naturally, we turned to adoption. We had a great love in our hearts and desired to shower it on children. So we were catapulted into an unknown world filled with paperwork, more paperwork, talking with strangers (social workers) about the most private parts of our life and marriage, and continually proving that we were “fit” to be parents. On top of that was the stress of fundraising and the meeting deadlines, creating photo books, and eagerly waiting for a match.

In the middle the first year of waiting, we were called to minister at a church in Virginia. Due to the fact that every state has different adoption guidelines, we had to fill out more paperwork, meet more deadlines, and talk to other strangers. We were not in Virginia long when we were matched with a little girl. It was a legal-risk adoption, meaning her parents were not concrete in their decision to make an adoption plan and may end up changing their minds. I was there when she was born. Seven days after she was born, her parents decided to parent her and revoked the adoption. Our hearts were so broken. I plunged into a depression. Life lost meaning as we tried to carry on without the little girl we had held and grown to love. It was toughest time in our marriage as well as our lives.

June 7, 2013 was the darkest day of my life. The grief was so intense and the depression so deep that it terrified me. I cried out to God to help me out of the pit I was in. I wrote my feelings on paper, showed my husband the paper, and then burned the papers so no one would ever be able to see the raw grief I experienced. My weeping endured for the night, but I did not know that joy was coming in the morning. I could not see what was transpiring behind the scenes. I had no idea that on June 8, 2013 in a small town about 25 minutes north of where I lived a little boy was being born. I had no idea that we had already been chosen by his birth mother. I had no idea that I had a son. 

Fast forward three weeks. Eric and I had spent a wonderful day together. It was the best day that we had had since we lost the baby girl two months prior. We had so much fun at the local water park. On the way home my phone rang. It was our social worker. She said that a little baby boy had been born and that we had been chosen to parent him if we wanted to accept. My world stopped.

Without hesitation, Eric and I said yes! And with that affirmation, we were parents-to-be!

The elation I felt at the knowledge of having a son was nothing compared to the moment I met my son for the first time. When they placed him in my arms in that social worker’s office, the dream that I had long held dear was gifted to me in the form of a dark-haired, dark-eyed, beautiful baby boy. In that solitary moment, my world shifted. Twelve years I had waited for that moment. I had entered the coveted mommy club. Deep love that I never knew existed welled up in me as I gazed at my son. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a mother.  Over the years I held many titles, but the one I coveted and now hold most dear is the title “mom.” My world was forever changed in that instant, and I am so grateful that God’s plans were greater than my own.

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Recall the Beginning

Even children as young as three or four years of age can enjoy listening to stories about how they came to your family. Spend some time on Adoption Day showing pictures of early days or telling the story of how your child became part of your family. If your child had any items from his/her birth family, now would be a good time to bring them out.

As your children get older, they may use this time to ask questions about their birth parents. In fact, you can make Adoption Day an opening for conversation by discussing their story. It may help them feel more comfortable asking you what their birth mother looked like or if their birth father was tall or short.

Celebrate Their History

This idea goes along with the first one, but in more detail if you had an international adoption or if you adopted a child from another culture. Instead of focusing on how they came to your family, focus on who they are. Take this day as an opportunity to learn about their culture. Find out what Korean foods are popular in celebrations if your child came from Korea and make them. Read about popular Chinese celebrities or leaders for your child from China.

If you adopted a biracial child or child of another race, take some time to talk to them about the history of that race. This gives them the chance to understand more of who they are as individuals and not just as your child. 

Give a Meaningful Gift

Many adoptive parents celebrate Adoption Day with gifts to their child. While there is nothing wrong with giving gifts, choose one that has a special meaning. Perhaps it’s a photo album of them with their birth family if they were older when they were adopted. It may be a book about their culture or even a ring with special significance.

It’s important to recognize and celebrate the day your child came into your family. However, you must also be cognizant of the fact that it may come with mixed emotions for your child. Your child suffered a loss to be able to become part of the family, and the day may cause both sadness and joy. If you treat the day with respect and encourage open communication, this time can bring healing and a closeness that will extend into the rest of the year.

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The adoption world is a tricky one to navigate. My husband and I live in our own little world. It is hard to view things from the perspective of another. As adoptive parents, we are overjoyed at the privilege of raising the two lives we have been given to parent. Our gratitude is so overwhelming that it is not always easy to see that our children may not be as elated to be a part of our family. If we are not careful, our joy could crowd out our recognition of our children’s pain.

This puts Adoption Day in an unusual category. Adoption Day rolls around each year in our house. I am never sure what to do. Our children are still young. At four and six they get excited about anything that puts a special focus on them, especially if it means presents. But every year I wonder if celebrating is the right thing.

On one hand, there is something to celebrate. We get the opportunity to be a family. We have two beautiful lives to raise. Our children have a mom, dad, and sibling. It is wonderful to be able to share our lives in such a way.

On the other hand, there is loss. Our children were separated from their biological families and Adoption Day may very well serve as a reminder that they are no longer part of their original families.

What is a gain for our family came at the expense of a tremendous loss for another. Our children are caught in the middle feeling both the joy and the sorrow of each side. Right now there is excitement over gifts or special outings to celebrate. I am all too aware that there may be a time coming where Adoption Day may bring some pain in place of the elation they feel right now. 

For our family, we continue to celebrate as long as our children want to celebrate. We try to keep communication lines open. Sometimes I will point out to our six-year-old things that may make adoptees sad just to give him to space to talk about his experience with it. I want both of our children to know that we are aware that adoption may not be all celebration to them, and that is okay.

Adoption Day is one of those things we talk about. I listen to hear what they are saying. Children are great at telling us what they think we want to hear. Ours is no different. We try to make sure they see that we are comfortable handling their pain so that it doesn’t get lost in their attempts to please us.

To celebrate or not celebrate is the question at hand. Talk to your child(ren) and let them be your guide. Let it be theirs to decide.

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It was a Thursday night, around 10:30. I was stretched out on our love seat with my husband on the couch. We were watching TV, winding down for the night, when we got the call. It was Mama A’s mom. Mama A’s water broke. We were their ride to the hospital. Could we come pick them up?

My drowsiness quickly disappeared. How was this happening? Our son was not due for another month. Surely, he had kicked Mama A’s bladder and she peed. He could not be on his way already!

In probably record-breaking time, we were dressed and out the door. As soon as we got to their house, I knew we were dealing with the real thing. Our son would be born much sooner than we anticipated. I tried with little luck to get my husband to drive something that resembled the speed limit as we took off to the hospital.

We got to the hospital and settled in. Mama A wanted me to remain in the room for a bit. Her contractions had not really started yet. We were able to relax for a few moments.

Then, the first contraction hit. I watched as my potential son’s heart rate plummeted. The room became chaos. His heart rate was not recovering. I stood there trying to calm Mama A as the nurses worked quickly to alleviate the situation. Regardless of their efforts, his heart rate remained low. The physician who was on call came to the room and gave orders for a medication to stop the contractions altogether. Finally, his heart rate recovered, but it was obvious that he would need to be born via c-section. I left the room so they could prep Mama A, unsure of how this baby boy was going to do.

The hospital was gracious enough to let us stay in an extra room that they had. My husband and I huddled there together for what seemed like days before we heard any news. Suddenly, in walked the nurse. Baby boy was doing fine. Would we like to come see him?

We walked through the hallway in a daze. Then, she opened the nursery door. There he was in the back of the nursery to the left-hand side. I can still picture him where he laid. The moment I saw him I knew he was our son. We still had the 72-hour wait for Mama A to terminate her rights and 30 days to wait for the birth father to come forward to claim custody, but I knew he was ours. It was as if my soul recognized him. 

I walked across the nursery floor. With every step the six and a half years of infertility pain melted. We had been through everything we had been through because this baby boy was who we were meant to parent.

We stood alongside the warmer, gazing at him. I remember the nurse nudging us, “You can touch him.” We were so afraid to break the spell of the moment. He was calmly looking around. Here I was, touching my son, the one I went through all those years of pain to meet. I knew in that instant I would have gone through double that time had I known this baby boy was waiting for me in the end.

Eventually, the nurse finished up what she was doing and offered to let me feed him. She gently placed him in my arms. He was so tiny I was afraid he would fall through the bend of my elbow. I could not believe I was actually holding my son. I could only break my gaze on him to look into my husband’s eyes, seeing the reflection of amazement that we were experiencing this moment in time.

From there, we took him back to our room where we assumed the role of parents. Mama A wanted him with her when she was awake which gave us the time we needed to finish preparations to bring him home. With him coming a month early, we were not quite ready.

The 72-hour window passed and paperwork was signed. The text went out, “WE HAVE A SON!” It was time to go home as a family.

That was nearly seven years ago when I first met him, and I still stare at our son in disbelief. Capturing the moment we met him is impossible to do. There are not enough adjectives to describe the glowing magic we experienced. I am still amazed that I have the privilege of raising this not-so-little boy.

If you’re interested in getting started with domestic infant adoption, click here for a free consultation that can help you get started.

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