We will celebrate the ‘Gotcha Day’ anniversary three times each year, and each time we do, I’ll have something to share – child specific or on adoption in general. Today I’m sharing about the four words I hear (or see written) often, “Adoption isn’t for us.”
Three years ago today, our little Samarah officially became Samarah Josephina Hoffman.
I didn’t know the angle I wanted to take for Samarah’s Gotcha Day, until Samarah made it so clear last night.
Sometimes she and I like to play the whispering game. I tell her a secret, and then she tells me a secret. Last night I started the session by whispering to her, “Samarah, tomorrow is your Gotcha Day anniversary. Tell mama what that means.”
I got nothing from her. She whispered a few random things to me, and then she was done. Until she wasn’t. She walked back to me, and told me she had one more thing.
Maybe you can be Black like me.
My mom asked me, “So what did you say?”
You guys want the truth? I just couldn’t stop laughing. Nothing gets by little Sam; nothing. And then she finished her thought,
Maybe we could just paint your skin, Mama.
Besides the fact that I just love that little girl with my whole heart, it helped reel me in for her 3-year Gotcha Day anniversary post.
Adoption Isn’t for Us
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Samarah and I are so different, and she was born to a woman I can’t relate to in the slightest.
But there is something about our connection and how much I adore her every move that’s almost biological.
I think about this so much, and I have thought about this so much, during this past year.
In case you aren’t aware, infertility is on the rise, and I meet, talk to, and even know many of the “infertile” women who have walked in my shoes.
I’m not the person to push for any decision. To each is own. If you are unable to conceive a child on your own, then the path to getting a child is miraculous in and of its own.
But sometimes when I hear – or see it written – “adoption isn’t for us; it’s just not” – I can’t help but wonder, “Why?”
There are challenges that come with it. I have stated it before, and will talk about it, openly, forever. But have you ever met a mama (or family in general) that didn’t have challenges?
Some women tell me it’s their husband. “He just doesn’t think we would love the child like our own.”
I can never be Black like Samarah (and no, we aren’t painting my face, sweet darling!) But here’s what I know:
- If I could look like my stunning children, I would.
- From the very first moment I laid eyes on Samarah, I never desired birthing my own child again.
- While there are surprises and things you don’t know/can’t possibly know about children you adopt, I’d argue that it’s the same thing for children you birth. Heck, I just learned things about my best friends this past weekend that I didn’t even know.
I always wanted to adopt, just not in the way it happened. I’ll even make it very clear that, during IVF, I’d gather I told myself over-and-over, “….because adoption isn’t for us.”
And in the end, after everything – adoption has been the very best thing Ryan and I have ever known. In 2015 I said, “adoption has changed our lives.” I believe that more than ever today, and while I maintain to never push anyone to adoption / foster-adoption, I won’t ever stop talking about how it might be the greatest blessing someone may have ever known.
And to you, Samarah Josephina Hoffman, today:
Mama can never be Black like you. There will never be another oh-so-beautiful Samarah Josephina like you, in all the world. Mama tells you it constantly, “Jesus made you that way.” And I’ll tell you every single day that same skin color or not; same blood or not, you are my little angel forever. You were the birth for an eruption deep in my soul that said “Yes, ah yes. Now I get it. Everything is totally, and magically, beautiful in its time.”
p.s. Wanna know a little secret? I’ve been feeling this strong desire to write and work on that pivotal, life-changing mantra that helped guide (and continues to guide) my life. The title: Ecclesiastes 3:11.
You will heal. I will help.