It Was Meant to Be

I am about to become a very unpopular adoption blogger, and I’m OK with that.  😛  But if we can’t speak the truth of our situations, no matter what the circumstances, it is my assertion that we are doing ourselves and others a grave disservice … and also shortchanging connection with one another.


Don’t misunderstand me … I firmly believe in boundaries. (As in, we don’t need to tell people everything.) And in an open adoption, healthy boundaries are super, super important. But a big component of healthy boundary-setting involves being open and authentic. So I’m about to do that with you today, and I would love it if you would come along with me on the wild ride.


Are ya ready for this???



I Don’t Believe My Kids Were “Meant to Be” with Me

Say WHAT??????


Yes, its true. I don’t believe that my kids were meant to be with me. And, I actually even get annoyed when people say that. So, … why? Here it is.


A couple of months ago, I read a powerful book called The The Primal Wound. (Affiliate linking here because I strongly recommend that adoptive parents check it out.) Although I’d already been parenting foster and adopted kiddos, connecting with birth (first) families and educating myself about trauma for a while before I read it, it was really an eye opener.


In The Primal Wound, you can read about how newborn babes (who can’t even see yet) can competently pick out their first mother’s face from among a gallery of photos. And other such unimaginable, but scientific nonetheless, realities (especially from the perspective of a loving adoptive parent who is seeking to attach with your child). I could go on and on about the book, but I’d really rather you just read it and let it sink deeply into your bones (and heart).


So, getting back to that “meant to be” thing … here is the God’s honest truth …


I actually believe that they were meant to be with their first parents.


Because if they were indeed meant to be with us, there are dire consequences of logic, such as:

  1. Their pain was meant to be.
  2. The “othering” feelings that they may feel, for the entirety of their life, were meant to be as well.
  3. That their first family, and the legacy they have on your child’s life, cab be easily dismissed (and customarily swept under the rug).
  4. (OPTIONAL for the religious among us) That it was God’s will. <cue the gagging> Let’s not start with this today. I have much more to say later.  🙂 


Needless to say, there is no world I can imagine in which I would be willing to say that this heapload of loss, pain and confusion was “meant to be” for Little Bean and Sweet Potato.


And there is no way I could be willing to spin this (our beautiful, colorful family of 4) as if it was the best for everyone, when I know deep down in my bones that their very presence in our home and family was borne of a catastrophic loss that they may wrestle with for the entirety of their days.


That Being Said, …

As far as a “Plan C” goes, … I am delighted beyond words to be their mom. The grief that we live with does not cancel out the joys that we experience. It is not one or the other. Grief and joy can coexist. But they coexist with mindfulness.


Mindful of the history. Of the messes. Mindful of the pain. Of the sticky-ness. Mindful of the rough start. But also of the amazing growth that we have seen along the way. An always, mindful of the completely mixed bag that adoption is.


I’m Sorry

On a completely unrelated note, I apologize that my blog presence has been inconsistent at best! Again, I have much to say about the challenges of the last year. But my priority has been … Little Bean and Sweet Potato.


I love writing more than you can know, and have big plans for the years to come! But these vulnerable souls have consumed me for the past 13 months, and I don’t regret that for a second.  🙂  More to come soon!






  1. July 23, 2018 / 1:12 PM

    The other phrase I can’t stand, “They are so lucky.” Ugh.
    Great post!

    • October 16, 2018 / 1:14 PM

      Thank you, lady! I agree. I hear that one a lot, too, and it really grates on me.

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