The Gift of Adoption

I just finished the book, Open Adoption: My story of love and laughter. Interesting and inspiring read (see sidebar for link). There are a couple of paragraphs I wanted to get out there for everyone to read.

Often I am surprised when I hear people say, about an adopted child, "that poor girl, no wonder she had such a hard time, her mother rejected her." Or hear an adopted child say, "I will always wonder why my mother rejected me. It's ruined my whole life." People need to know, adopted children need to be taught, that for most birth mothers, giving up a baby is not an act of rejection, it is the most selfless, courageous, brave deed they can do. It is laying aside their own desires and longings, to bestow on that baby something greater and better than they can provide. For almost all birth mothers, a piece of themselves dies in that surrender, they understand that life is hard to deal with. That without both a father and a mother, financial security, a stable loving relationship, opportunities for education and culture, things that might otherwise never be within the child's reach, the child might not be able to become all God intended him to be. Never yet have I met a birth mother who thoughtlessly gave her baby away.

I am convinced that most birth mothers never "reject" their children. The birth mother does something more noble than many of us would be capable of - she sacrifices her own natural affection for her child, her own ambitions and love for her baby, hoping to give the child much more than she could give it, especially the gift of a complete family.

Will and I stood there, Taylor in my arms. We looked at Liz. How does one say "thank you"? How does one possibly grasp the magnitude of such a gift? With a mist in his eyes and passion in his voice, Will said, "Liz, we can never, ever thank you enough. We love you."
I was a mother, receiving a gift. She was a mother, bestowing it. The power of that moment and the love it held for us all will live forever, to be recalled almost daily. Never to be forgotten.
We went out into the bright, crisp spring day. Cloudless sky. Radiant sun. Flags on poles. Balloons flying through the air.
The little nursery had been waiting a long time for this one, chosen, beautiful, sacred gift.