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May is one of my favorite months to look back on and remember. It is the month I learned that I would for sure, for real, for truth, for definitely, be a Mom. It was a good month. A very, very, good month. As an adoptive mom, you hope, plan, and dream that you will get the call, but nothing prepares you for the actual phone call. Nothing. It is surreal.

How it all began…

I had decided at 28 that I had no prospects for marriage, and that I still really felt that motherhood was in my future. I had always thought I would go the traditional route; find Mr. Right, settle down, have a few kids. In addition, I always thought that I would adopt a few as well. From an early age, I remember thinking about adoption and how wonderful it would be to grow a family through bringing a child in need into our home. It just seemed like the most natural thing in the world to me. I knew that I had 4 holes in my heart, and I prayed about starting to fill them with adoption.

Manny & Viki at Foster Home

I had completed foster care licensing requirements, and the steps to become a certified therapeutic licensed foster parent. Next, I went to parenting classes, read a library full of adoption books, and prepared my home for children. Then, I completed the home study which is a 30-page book you write about your life, everything you ever did, or thought, wanted. It is intense.   I gave personal, professional, and clergy references. Had my credit, legal, and driving record checked, and was fingerprinted. And then, I waited.

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The wait seemed like forever

I waited, and waited, and waited. It was months but seemed like a lifetime. On the one hand, I was buying books and toys for children I did not know, had no idea of their age or gender, their likes or dislikes. Yet, I continued to prepare. This was the stage of the game where I had to have the most faith. Often it is at this stage when the people around you don’t see a baby arriving, that they begin to make comments. Comments like, “Oh, did you decide not to adopt? That is probably good, it would be really hard”.  These are not welcome comments…..

Manny and Viki before adoption

Eventually, the calls start coming. Once registered, my social worker would call every Friday to let me know of pairs of children that were available for adoption. It is a strange thing when you desperately want to open your home to children, and a social worker calls and offers them to you every week. For weeks I heard of children who needed homes. Sets of boys, sets of girls, twins, boys and girls. They were old and young and came from various backgrounds and ethnicity. All of them brought a story with them. None of them were going to be my children. I didn’t know why. I would sometimes say, “Sure, send me more info on that pair”. In general, none of them sounded like they were my children.

And then it happened

Finally one day the social worker called with 3 different sets of kids to talk about. I sat down on the steps near the kitchen door with a notepad and started to write details. The first pair was a pair of sisters. They were six and eight. Blonde, sweet, well behaved. The second set was a little boy and girl. They were two and three with curly brown hair. Now, I have to say, that everyone I told about this pair thought they would be perfect for me, since I had curly brown hair. I later met them in a random occurrence at social services and there was nothing. No spark. They were adorable, but they were not my children.

My Sister Mary with Manny & Viki in 1998

The social worker then said she had one more pair, “A boy and a girl, they are 3 & 4, Hispanic, and their names are Manuel and Victoria”. My heart started to turn, the room started to spin, I could not control my tear ducts as tears began to stream down my face. Even thinking back to that moment now, I can’t help but mist up. It was at that moment that I knew I was a mother. It was at that moment that I knew two of the little holes that resided in my heart were already filled. I counted back and realized that I had started praying for children the month my son Manuel was born. I had been praying for these two children for so long, and suddenly, I knew they were mine.

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I wanted to bring home my children

The social worker asked if I wanted any additional information about any of the three sets presented. I said I wanted to bring home Manny and Viki. They were my children. She let me know she would contact the children’s social worker, and essentially, forward my home study paperwork and let them know of my interest. She let me know that other families, families who might have more money, who might be married, who might be better than me, might want these children and it would be up to the social worker of the children to decide on a placement. I didn’t really hear anything beyond that point. I knew these children were to be mine. And I could not wait to meet them.

Manny and Viki 2012- Practicing an old skating lift.

We spent the next two weeks going back and forth with the supervisor of the social worker who was deciding the placement. She thought a different family might be better, but the children’s social worker loved the idea of our home. At the time I had moved back in with my parents, and my 18-year-old sister lived at home as well. We lived on a property where there was a small orchard and an acre of play space for the children. She thought it would be a great home, filled with love, and lots of space for adventure.

And then the phone call….

At the end of the two weeks, I finally received the phone call that I had been hoping for. I should make plans to head to Southern California to meet and pick up the children! I was ecstatic and terrified. What? Wait? Did I sign up to completely change my life and bring home two children? Yes! I asked my mother if she would accompany me on the journey and 3 days later we made the 7-hour drive.

The next morning we met the children’s social worker at social services. She brought us into a room where she went over pages and pages of reports regarding the children. What their life had been like up to that moment, their challenges, their potential challenges, and their health and psychological reports. It is a lot to take in. She let me know that if I signed the next few papers, the children would then be placed with me for adoption.

Give me eyes to see their beauty

At this point, I had not seen a picture of the children or met them. For some reason in my mind, I thought, “These children must be horribly ugly”. I thought that maybe they looked like drowned rats or something. Most children are adorable and I could not imagine why they were specifically not showing us pictures of the children. Across the room, my mom was thinking the same thing.

When I asked to see a picture, the social worker said, “After you sign the papers, you can see the children’s pictures”. I said a silent prayer and asked God to give me eyes to see their beauty, no matter how ugly they might be. These children were mine, and it didn’t really matter to me how they looked. I just wanted God to help me look at them with eyes of love no matter what.

And then, I took a deep breath

I took a deep breath, signed the papers, and exhaled. As the social worker started to leave the room, she said, I am going to go get your children ready to meet you. As she left, she pulled an envelope out of the back of a folder and handed it to me. Enclosed in the envelope were photos of the children. My Manny and Viki. They were the most beautiful children I had ever laid eyes on. They had the most beautiful eyes and smiles that lit up my heart. And they were so small and so ready to be loved. I could not wait to meet them.

“Manuel and Victoria, this is your new Mommy”

30 minutes later we were seated in a room with the foster family who had cared for my children for the previous 9 months. They had been in foster care for 2.5 years total. The family was nervous, very kind, and did not speak any English which made communicating difficult. And then, the social worker walked into the room with my children and introduced me. She was holding the children’s hands and said, “Manuel and Victoria, this is your new Mommy”.

They came over and gave me a little hug, looked at me and smiled not having any idea how much their lives would change in the next week. I held back tears as best as I could as I started to talk with them about the pictures on the table and toys they had brought in from the toy room.

Adoption Story- Manny and Viki in 2012

Later that day my mother and I took the children to the park to start the bonding process. Everywhere we went Viki said, “To House?” Asking in her three-year-old version of Spanish-English. She had been told she would be living with us, so she wondered if the house on the corner, the bathroom at the park, or social services might be her new home. A young girl, around eight, I would guess, was playing at the park. She asked me if I were the children’s mother. I told her I was and felt quite proud that I had uttered the words. She then followed up asking me if my husband was Mexican since my kids were Hispanic. I realized at that moment that when you adopt children, and your family is built differently, people ask a lot of questions. I smiled and explained adoption. She said she thought that was cool.

We visited with the children again the next day and went to their foster home to pick up most of their belongings. The following day the foster family had an obligation so we would not be able to see the children. My Mom and I spent the entire day shopping for the children, as well as crying that the foster family might decide to keep the children and we would never see them again. We could not possibly stand this as we had fallen completely in love with Manny and Viki.

And then we had to say goodbye

Finally, the next day arrived. We went into social services and were so elated to find the foster family had brought the children and we would be taking them home. Of course, there was never any real question as I had signed the papers when we first arrived, but a heart that is falling in love can play tricks on the mind. We said a tearful and heart-wrenching goodbye to the foster family and social worker. I packed up the van, strapped the children into their car seats, and headed to Northern California. As I drove onto the Highway, I was overwhelmed to realize that I was driving my new family home.

And every May I think back…

Yes, every May I think back to this momentous occasion in our lives, the beginning of my family, and cry, and smile, and thank God for building my family through the miracle that is adoption. Since then, of course, we finalized in court, added two additional children, went through all the ups and downs that is life, and recently had the honor and joy of meeting Manny and Viki’s birth family. And, welcoming my first grandbaby into the family.

Manny and Viki in 2012

This, of course, is a blog about giving. Having a giving lifestyle. I often say that we should give our Time, Talent’s and Money to make the world a better place. My family chose to do this. From my parents to my brother and sister, as well as a myriad of friends, we all chose to give our Time, Talent’s and Money to make the world a better place for two foster children who needed a home. They have had a good life. Not perfect, but very good.

I have received so much

I would be remiss though if I did not tell you that in giving those things to my children, I received far more than I could ever write in a single blog post. Truthfully, more than I could express in a lifetime of blog posts. In giving my life to them, I received two of the most precious gifts I could ever imagine. I gained their smiles and laughter. And, I gained their cuddles, and nights of rock-a-byes.

I gained all the lessons that you learn as a Mom when you take care of someone else who has budding hopes and dreams, a growing mind, and an expanding heart. I gained camping trips, and Disneyland, I gained skating lessons and endless conversations about magicians and horses. And, I gained homeschooling and travel. I gained lost teeth, scraped knees, and emergency trips to the hospital. And, I gained homemade Mothers Day Gifts, video montages filled with the most beautiful faces in the world, and laughter. Lots and lots of laughter.

A Week After They Came Home Forever

About a week after I brought Manuel and Victoria home, I left the house by myself for the first time. Completely alone.  As I drove to the end of the road I broke down in tears. I cried because I would probably never be able to wear white pants again because of little fingers that were covered in paint, glue, or red dirt. I cried because I would never be able to get my hair done just right again because someone always needed attention. And, I cried because I would never be able to have a cookie right before dinner because I was an example to two little pairs of eyes. Then I wiped my tears and drove to the store.

Adoption Story

I am so thankful

I am so thankful looking back that I have never worn white pants again, that I had to change to an easy to manage hairstyle, and that I don’t eat cookies before dinner. You see, I like to wear jeans so that I can play on the floor with my granddaughter, paint, use copious amounts of glitter, and crayons. I am glad my hair is no longer perfect so that I don’t mind when my granddaughter wants to give me a new hairdo. And I am glad that I don’t eat cookies before dinner because it leaves more room for cupcakes that my granddaughter and I frost very imperfectly with love.

You see a giving life sounds like a lot of work when you look at it from the outside with uneducated eyes. But in reality, a giving life sets you up for a lifetime of receiving. It sets you up for a lifetime of receiving hugs, and hiccups, and hearts. And yes, it is totally worth it.