Featured Adoption Story of the month  

I've been reading about how scary referrals are for people. Been there, done that. Probably could write the book, definitely won't be cast in the movie.

Given the above, I'd like to write about taking the referral plunge from the perspective of what I thought about when we were deciding to adopt our older son, Alec. I won't write about Bill because this is about how I felt when I had to take a leap of faith in adopting a special needs kid. He had to take his own leap. You will take your own leap. You might not want to take this one. But if you do, I'm standing here on the other side.

We were very attracted to Ali on the photolisting. The picture there showed a pumpkin-faced boy with enormous dark eyes. Those eyes just reached out and locked with mine and I felt something for that kid. Then I looked at the snippet written about him and saw that he had a birth defect that I had never heard of and got scared. Really scared. Dear hubby and I decided to look for another child. We looked and looked at the photolisting over and over. For a variety of reasons, other children weren't working out for us. We kept coming back to those eyes.

I remember sitting here at this very desk on this computer thinking about what it would mean to me to have Ali as our son. I had read a lot from folks who said that they put their adoption in God's hands and got the best baby in the world. Then I decided I had to think about God's plan. It sure didn't make sense that the Almighty's plan was for only perfect babies to find parents. There had to be more to it than that.

So I started thinking again. What would I have done if Ali had been born to me? Love him. Try to raise him to become the best person he can be. Treat him like any other kid. Suddenly, I realized that I could do all of those things no matter what disability Ali carried with him. I couldn't deny the pull I felt for that little guy any more than I could have put him back where he came from if he had been born with the same problem.

We set the ball rolling to make Ali our own Alec. We found a brother for him, lost that referral and so we found another one. We talked to doctors who told us good things about both boys and doctors who tried to scare us about Alec. We decided that the best thing about Alec was that we weren't afraid of him.

Off we traveled to Kazakhstan then to Taldy-Korgan. Then to the baby house. We met Ernar and suddenly we had our Dane. They brought Ali to us and Alec had arrived. They told us that Alec had heard a mama and a papa were coming to see him and that he tried to walk that morning. I have never looked back from that moment because that was when I became his mom. It wasn't a moment in a court. It was the moment when I realized that Alec and I were going to commit to each other. He wanted me because he wanted a mama and I wanted him because I wanted a son. Everything else was the incidentals.

We've had Alec and Dane ten months. We've still been getting good news and bad news from doctors about Alec and we have been through two major surgeries and several hospitalizations. We drive over 200 miles one way to see his surgeon because the surgeons that were easy to get to wanted to take an easy way out. He's incredibly social, he's drop dead gorgeous, he so bossy I can hear the whip crack over my head sometimes. I schlepp him to therapy, to get handicapped tags for the car, to preschool five days a week so that the school district can give him more therapy. I'm the stay at home mom who's never at home.

Today, he had a screaming tantrum at me for fifteen minutes outside his school in front of 100 kindergarten and preschool kids. Yep, that's my boy. All my boy. He's made some days pretty rocky for both of us. He's made me feel like I am on top of the world some days. We have always loved each other. Even when he was so incredibly mad at me today, we loved each other. I stood my ground because my love makes me try to make him strong. He stood his ground because he needs me to prove that I'm strong enough to be his mom. Why else would he scream at the top of his voice, "Mom, come here because I love you! I need you. You are my friend. You are my mama." He got over his tantrum and he hugged me and he whispered in my ear, "Never leave me mama."

Why on earth would I want to leave now that I have him? When you get a moment like that from your kid it will carry you through days of nightmares. It was worth it to be screamed at for fifteen minutes just to hear him say things like that to me. That was nine hours ago and I'm still high from it. I'll remember that a lot longer than I'll remember what made him so mad.

Don't get me wrong. Adopting a kid who scares you is scary. This is undoubtedly the hardest thing I have ever done but that also means each accomplishment we share, each milestone with Alec has fulfilled me more than anything else I have ever tried to do. We needed each other from day one and that's enough for me to be glad that God wants moms and dads for all of his kids, no matter what. Please God tap me on the shoulder and remind me of that again. Let me remind other people. Try putting your priorities in the order Alec has taught me. He is a child, He is my child. After that is when we worry about if he is my disabled child.

Alec's therapist asks frequently if she can teach him how to do something else and my heart just about bursts with love for this little guy because he says, "No, my mom will do it." And I will. I might be afraid of his disability still but I'm never going to be afraid again of Alec, of my son.

Bill just read this. He says I'm getting it right.

Best wishes. You aren't alone in worrying about this stuff. You will take your own leap. You might not want to take this one. But if you do, I'm standing here on the other side.

Gail B.
Wife to Bill
Mom to Alec
Mom to Dane

Gail Brookhart -- Indianapolis, IN, USA