Hale Family Tales

I wanted to continue my post concerning Ellie’s comments about my nursing her when she was a baby. That comment was made probably sometime in November. Since then she has come up with a game. “Mama, I am a baby polar bear and you are a mama polar bear and you are going to feed me milk.” “Mama, I am a baby kitty and you are a mama kitty and you are going to feed me milk.” You get the point – this has been on her mind. A lot, evidently!

The other night Ryan and Hannah were at Awana’s and just Ellie and I were sitting on the couch having a book reading marathon. (It probably wouldn’t surprise you much to hear that her favorite books are a series of non-fiction books about all sorts of mother animals and their babies that Grandma and Grandpa gave her for her birthday. The alligator book is her favorite – I think because there is a house in it that looks just like Grandma and Grandpa’s house in Florida. We’ve actually seen alligators in the pond behind their house.) Anyway, after the third story and a session of “You be the Mama…”, I thought I would bring up the conversation about when she asked me if I nursed her as a baby.

I tiptoed in, not wanting to be inappropriate age-wise or tell her more than she was interested in. She said yes, she remembered that day. Then, I started telling her more of her story. That she had been born from a birth mommy and birth daddy and that they live in China. It is sad but that not all the Mommy’s and Daddy’s in China can keep and take care of their sweet babies. But God planned for her to be our little girl and made everything work out for Mama and Daddy to come to China to adopt her.

I also told her that I wish she had been born from my tummy and she said that she wished that too. I said that even though I wish that, I was going to be happy about the fact that she is here now. I told her that God promises that everything always works together for the good of those who love Jesus and that I hope she will think that about her adoption story.

Wow, I have read about and prepared my heart and mind for these talks for years now. I felt prepared and the words just came out and I think she really understood. There’ll be more talks, more layers added over the years, but for now, I think I can say, she’s fine. She’s bonded, adjusted, accepted her place in our family and knows a little bit more of who she is. I think I’ll go hug her now.

We participate in a co-op for homeschooling families here in St. Louis. Ellie attended the two-year old class last semester. She loved her teacher, was always eager to go to class, and came home happy after our day out.

But, they told me, she was to move up to the 3-4 year old room this semester. They call it the Pre-School room. Ellie – a pre-schooler?? – What about her two-year old room routine where I confidently took her every co-op session?

Also, I taught in the room next door to the 3-4′s last semester and there was a very loud little girl in there who I could overhear as she shouted at the teacher and other children. There was much ruckus and the teachers even looked rather harried.

Hmmmm? I thought about leaving her in the 2′s – it was her teacher’s suggestion in fact. But, hmmm, she should move up, be stimulated…They assigned a more experienced, capable teacher to this room to help run a tighter ship.

Today she happily went into the Pre-School room. She headed right into class and was delighted with all the pattern blocks and lego’s laying out just waiting for the children to dive into. She eagerly dove.

We always eat lunch together. After we ate, she pointed out this beautiful little blond girl and said, “That is my new friend, Mommy.”

Guess who?

Guess who got the bigger lesson here?

I guess since this is an adoption blog, maybe I should talk a bit about Ellie’s adoption process.  Especially since there is a serious lack of anything concerning Treasure’s adoption.  The word “waiting” is a very loaded word.  Shel Silverstein wrote a great poem about it, but that is another post.

Adoption is a word that I fell in love with exactly 4 years ago now.  We made the decision to seek a child for adoption in January of 2005.  We had tried to have another child after Hannah was born, but it was finally apparent to me that we were going to be extending our family through adoption.  I often snicker to myself when I consider how patient both God and my husband were with me in going through the emotional process involved in dealing with infertility and embracing adoption.  So here goes, I am sort of staring with now and will go backwards:

Ellie made a comment to me one day a couple of months ago while we were eating lunch with other families at our homeschool co-op.  She said, “When I was a baby you fed me from your breasts.”  I followed her gaze across the room and saw a baby being nursed by his mother.  She knows several other babies and has seen them fed both by the bottle and by nursing.

I stumbled with my response and finally felt the best thing was to reinforce the truths that she already knew. I talked about how she came to us right when she turned one and added this new idea that she wasn’t with us when she was a teeny little baby.  I said, “Well, Honey, Mommy’s feed their babies their milk when they have been born from their tummy, but you weren’t born from my tummy.  You were born in China.  You lived with your Nannies who fed you bottle milk until Mommy and Daddy could come and adopt you.  We fed you bottles and rocked you and held you and sang to you…”  She knew all of these facts.  Ryan made a beautiful video of her adoption, we have photos.  This topic is open conversation in our family.

This time, I wasn’t really satisfied with my answer and it was obvious that she was not either.  In fact, maybe it was my imagination, but I felt like she even avoided being close to me for the rest of the day.  I will admit it, it was painful.  Not because I was possibly being rejected, but because I wasn’t sure whether I had answered her correctly.  And because I felt that my answer – the truth – had  caused her pain.  And maybe she felt some rejection on my part that I couldn’t just say, “Yes, Honey, I nursed you too just like Jonathan and his Mommy.”   I had told her the truth, but was the truth really what she needed?  And, oh, the most troubling fear of all, that she would not confront and overcome the story of her adoption – not see it as redemptive at all and only focus on the brokenness.  I think that is in the back of every adoptive parent at every stage of development.  My husband and I agreed that we aren’t going to live in the place where that binds us in our parenting, but, believe me it’s there in the mix of those parental nagging worries.

Christmas Morning 2008

I’ve read plenty of adoptive parenting books and have always felt that we will shoot straight with our kids about their story as they grow up.  I feel that a great deal of their identity is in their understanding of their broken vs. redemptive pasts.  I firmly believe and tell her that it was God’s plan all along for her to be our little girl – our Ellie Grace.  I would never suggest that he orchestrated for a culture to devalue human life based on gender, but I know what a redemptive God he is and that He meant for this little one to be my little girl.

There’s more to this story, but I digress, dinner is not going to cook itself.

Did you know that a dinner roll dipped in ketchup can, in fact, be an entree?

The shameful thing was that we were at a local steak house with some of the nicest, freshest steaks around.

I guess she isn’t old enough to appreciate the really important things in life.

(Hannah, on the other hand, got her own small steak and was very much in 7th heaven.)

Ellie wants to be the ballerina who rides on top of the elephant doing tricks.  Whew, I’m relieved.