adoption

There is a wide spectrum of opinions related to adoption. From Jesus put it in my heart to adoption is child slavery, there are many ways to think about adoption. When we started the process, I had no idea there were so many different points of view. In my mind, adoption seemed like a win-win for everyone. Not only would we become a family and a child would gain a home, but the icing was that we would help make the world a little better.

As we became more entrenched in the paperwork, waiting and more waiting, we began to uncover varying perspectives of adoption. Jose and I had long talks over the ethics of what we were doing. We fretted over the legitimacy of it. Days before our second court date, Jose discovered a couple of discrepancies in our referral paperwork. We freaked out, called one of our agency’s head honchos on the weekend with our worries. As we waited for a return phone call, we discussed postponing our court date if our concerns weren’t properly addressed. We couldn’t justify bringing Buturo into our family if there was any doubt he hadn’t been legitimately relinquished by his first family. After an agonizing weekend of what-ifs, our agency cleared up the confusion and we proceeded with our court date. But it was a reminder of the seriousness of what we were doing.

Even in Ethiopia, with our son in our arms, we still were grappling with the complexity of our family’s origin. In order to bring our adopted children back to the U.S, families have to obtain visas for them. Most of the paperwork for this visa occurred months before in the U.S, but the final stamp of approval had to happen in Ethiopia. In order to receive Turo’s visa, we joined at least 30 other mostly white families and a sprinkling of Ethiopians in a non-descript room at the back of the Embassy compound. Looking around the room at all these American parents with their Ethiopian babies, I felt unsettled.

Individually our stories all made sense. Just like Turo, these babies had been relinquished due to some tragic situation. And just like us, each family had a compelling reason for wanting to adopt from Ethiopia.

But when you put us all together on a macro level, we were picking up our new children because of injustice, poverty and inequality. We were picking up our new children because we had money and their first families did not. Combined we probably paid over half a million dollars in fees to adopt (times how many other appointments a week?). What did this say about us? About our role in creating a marketplace for these children? Were we doing the right thing? What was the right thing anyway?

Walking to our visa interview, we had to pass a group of Ethiopians waiting for their appointments. I wondered what they thought of the parade of Americans going by with their black babies. I wanted to tell them, “I’m sorry this has happened. I promise to do right by this child. I promise he will know where he comes from. I will teach him about this amazing country’s culture and history. I promise to continue to give back to Ethiopia so this doesn’t have to happen for future children. I will treasure and love my son with all my heart.” After a couple of minutes of basic questions, we were approved to bring Turo into the U.S. I was relieved to get back in our van. Back to just being a new, happy family of three.

Our family’s narrative is not just: childless couple + orphan = family. Two years after those initial thoughts about adopting, my viewpoint on adoption has become more nuanced than the idealistic version I held at the beginning. I’m still trying to find a way to hold total joy and happiness alongside the tragic parts of our story. And as I parent Turo, I want to make sure that I give him the support and space to develop his own thoughts and feelings on his adoption (even the less rosy ones).