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Crazy!

No, not our Divine Miss M, she’s just goofing around!

But “they’re crazy” “what? oh they’ve lost their minds”….this is the sort of comment we run up against, in various forms, all too often.

And this past week, with the whooping announcement of our new baby boy, waiting for us in Ethiopia, we had a little swell of this sort of phrase swept our way…usually blurted out before the person caught themselves and offered some form of tepid congratulations.

I’ll admit, another child for us is a surprise to many. Especially to those not as close to us and considering our already full house and ok, our not quite as young as we used to ages (40’s….but hey, that’s the new 30’s right????). Some people are tactful, some are truly thrilled for us, some are politely neutral, and some, a few, are downright disdainful.

You know, I touched on this a tiny bit a few posts ago, in “Why adopt…Again.” But after this past week, I think it is not just an adoption thing. This sort of reaction of disdain, scoffing, or just dismay and dismissing me or us as “a little nuts” goes deeper. Even folks who are completely supportive of adoption tend to often have the reaction that perhaps we are taking this too far.

But what? Taking WHAT too far, exactly? Adopting again? No, I don’t the objection is to adopting or even adopting again. I think it is a number game. A sheer number bias. And that shocked resistance to more, to the larger numbers, to MORE kids is pervasive. How many of you have had people say “oh boy, you’ve got YOUR hands full!” And, “wow, I have two kids and that’s PLENTY for me.” Or, “well, don’t you think you might be taking away from your other kids? You have to think about them too.” Hmmmm. Or there is the cliche, “you know, I knew this person and they just adopted a baby and bam, then they got pregnant!” This is always related as a horror story. Like they somehow blew it in their planning and somehow it’s a bad mistake and maybe even a twinge of rating of the kids. Oh….this makes me nuts. There is an bit of an insidious undertone in these last two.

You know, I am the first to say that “yup, two kids (or one, or three, or whatever number) CAN be a handful and boy golly, that can be plenty” from a “whew, this is a lot of work” standpoint. All kids and all families are different. There is no perfect family or perfect number. NO FAMILY SIZE IS AUTOMATICALLY BETTER THAN ANOTHER (so please don’t send me nasty messages about how I am being rude or self righteous, I am SO not meaning anything like that). However, what I object to is the idea that smaller is more sensible or easier or somehow more “right.” Smaller is fine. But why is it crazy or too much to have more? It’s not. It’s this bizarre culture we’ve evolved into that has woven that message into our cultural psyche. And I, we, reject it.

Instead I know, we live, the fact that for us, larger is better. It is awesome. It IS a lot of work. My hands ARE full. But in the best way, in the way I was made for. The very best gift anyone can be given is a child. Period. Not a Ferrari, not a mansion, not an island in the sun (don’t get me wrong, that last one especially has a strong appeal…ahhh). It is a child. Nothing else brings that deep, core tingling, whooping joy. And for those who say “what about the other kids?” Well, the very very best gift they can be given, is a sibling. Period. One of our children has some issues that are a bit more high maintenance. And even with that, the time they take, the difficulties in interactions even with their sibs…..even so, the best gift any of them has is each other. Period.

As a Catholic (you knew I had to bring it in), this is part and parcel of it for me. It is being open to life. It is the Catholic stance (and of course so many other’s) that ALL life is precious and has value, inherent distinct value. All life. The ones that God might send me through my own body and gene pool and any others that he brings to us, whether they are here or half a world away. Teeny babies or older. Babies and kids who are perfectly healthy and made like that old “Ozzie and Harriet 50’s” stereotypical family framework, and babies who might have different needs or who are abandoned or who are from a different part of the world. It is a conscious letting go of the “we determine” our family, and instead letting God determine it. Which, in a weird way, is radical.

It is a tough concept for a control freak like me to get used to; and in fact took me YEARS to be willing to do it. And then, I finally did, and by that time, we were looking at adopting. Maybe that was part of it, because if you think you are in control of everything; of your body and deciding when to get pregnant and how it will work out best and feeling in charge of the whole deal…well, try stepping on to the adoption road and watch that sense of control be ripped out of your hands and placed in someone else’s….meaning oh, the social workers, the caseworkers, the doctors, the FBI, the taxman, you name it…they all have input. Yikes! But the funny thing is, it was never REALLY in our hands in the first place. I think, for me, it took starting the adoption process to figure that out. And then the beauty of that stance got it’s chance to unfold. And here we are, about to bring home number seven. And we are once again, still, whooping with joy.

So, I guess this is a whole long venting built up after a few days of high emotions and joy at our news. And a response to that whole “you’re crazy, when ya gonna quit?” kind of response. Frankly, I think THAT knee jerk reaction is a bit crazy. Nice people say this to me. But really, the ingrained, learned perspective today, is that we are all in control of everything: our bodies, our destiny, our choices, our kids, how our families will be formed and our lives lived out. And really, this is a ruse. We don’t have nearly as much control as we think, we have choice. Which is so much better, really. So, we choose being open to life, which often results in a big old family, and that’s seems a bit crazy.

It’s nut’s, right? Yup. We are crazy, in the best way. And, well, a big mixed up family is a whole LOTTA life, every day!!! And we love it and if that’s crazy, then I guess my new answer to “are you nuts?” will just have to be “you betcha!”

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The ever fun to read and insightful Danielle Bean has a good article today here.

With the dovetailing of this week’s events: Pope Benedict’s visit to the U.S. and in our family microcosm of the world, our joyful news of passing court and the official additon of a new child, our household and my scattered brain has been, well, more scattered than usual! So much to pay attention to, new exciting things.

So many thoughts have been rumbling through my mind from the mundane to the ones with a wider scope. My attention has been focused mainly on the awesome ecstatic news of our new baby, but it has also been caught again and again by our Pope, glimpses on the news and web, flashes of those wonderful red shoes, following the trail of his historic visit here.

My kids ask why it’s important that he’s here. And I say “because we are Catholic. That’s our Pope.” But that means so much. It is so far reaching. “Catholic” itself, the word, means universal….far reaching indeed. And somehow, for me, this week, that jives as I reach my heart to Ethiopia, half a world away, to my little boy, waiting for me, for his new dad, for his family, in a blue crib. And somehow, that connection, that reaching seems so much more.

As I have little to no skill in distilling my rambling racing thoughts, it gives me great pleasure to find someone who does and who has put into words some of the ideas that are important, to our family, to me as a mom, and as a Catholic. I love this about blogs, the great writers are out there and think more clearly, have better ideas and then say them better than you…but you can still find that ‘ping’ of recognition where you connect and think “yeah! she’s right, he’s good!”

Here is a snip of what I mean, by Danielle Bean and her most recent article:

“Each time, I am struck by the cultural significance of what it means to my kids to be raised a Catholic today. Because we are Catholic, we are interested in goings-on hundreds or even thousands of miles away. Because we are Catholic, our mother turns on the television in the middle of the day and wipes at her eyes when a white-cloaked, red-shoed man emerges from an airplane and sets foot on American soil.”

snip:

“Benedict first endeared himself to me three years ago when he admitted that he prayed not to be elected pope.
“At a certain point, I prayed to God, ‘Please don’t do this to me,'” he said. “Evidently, this time he didn’t listen.

Benedict’s vulnerable admission of reluctance to take on responsibility made him seem delightfully more human to me. I may not be charged with shepherding the entire Catholic Church into the next generation, but I do understand fearsome responsibility: My husband and I are charged with the shepherding of eight small
souls into the Church.

Following the pope’s lead, Catholic parents can accept awesome responsibility with confidence. We can do our best to teach, to love, to pray, and to be open to God’s work in our families. We can let go of the ulcer-inducing consciousness of our own deficiencies.”

So. Even the Pope had or has doubts. Maybe he didn’t feel up to the job, or doesn’t all the time. And yet, just by serving, as best he can, God surely does work through his deficiencies. He represents and serves the Church. This brings me comfort. God surely then, will work through my own deficiencies, “ulcer-inducing” and shocking in their abundance.

This is the mystery of the how or why it works. And yet it does. And it is a “fearsome responsibility” to presume to call myself Mom, and us family, for a sweet baby boy, sitting in a blue crib, across the world.

And I think it’s the trying. The stepping forward in faith, even if you can’t see the path or even the next steps ahead, it’s the taking of that next step. It can be scary. Daunting. Ulcer-inducing. But as our Pope shows us, as he physically travels far, across the world despite his 81 years, it’s the physical doing and acting out of our faith. Then God can work through us. That’s Catholic. That’s how it works. That’s faith. That’s family.

This adoption stuff can be daunting. Far travel. Far reaching. Uncertain. Long waits. Unknowns. It stretches our everything: our intellect, patience, faith, endurance, courage, and best of all, our hearts. But first we have to take that step. Again. And again.

For us, this time, we are stepping far. To Ethiopia. Stepping, flying, to our Tariku.

Go. Read. It doesn’t take long. Danielle is great.

I might go shopping for some red shoes!

Photo courtesy of Knight of Columbus