the question

2 weeks ago my son, Judson, the "thinker and questioner" asked me

"So Mom, when are you going to get a real job?"

The question came out of nowhere for me.  But, knowing Judson, I bet he has been wondering this for a while.  Comparing my life with other people, other Moms.  Judson doesn't remember the years when he was so small that I HAD to work outside the home. He doesn't remember bring up at 5:30 a.m. to breastfeed him, get ready, get him ready, 45 minute commute one way, drop-off at daycare all to be at the middle school by 7:30.  To which, there were so many mornings I had a crisis waiting for me at my office door.  Back then Andy was in his residency years and cutting back on my hours as a social worker wasn't even an option.  I carried the weight of the health insurance and much needed income.  Of course, this is the story for many, many people, not new at all.

 I found myself in a new position... wanting to explain myself to him.  It was the first time I wanted Judson to be PROUD of me and it was for something exterior.

When you think about it, his frame of reference is that his dad is a doctor, a profession that is greatly respected and admired.  In our culture people are impressed when they hear that....that is just a fact.  They aren't impressed when you say your Mom is.....a Mom.  When your Mom doesn't have a "real job".  It is so very much apart of our culture to place value on people in that way, and it starts young without this Mom even really being aware of it until he posed the question.

There was a time I wanted so badly to be a social worker.  To help others help themselves.  My ultimate dream job was to be a school social worker.  I worked so very hard to finish my Master's in Social Work and find a job as a school social worker.   However, after Judson was born I wanted none of it.  Going back to work when Judson was 12 weeks old felt like torture to me.  I hated everything about it.  It was a real emotional struggle to hand Judson over to the daycare caregiver.  Would they know his needs, his cries...and they couldn't nurse him.  To top it off they also dumped out bottles of my milk that first week because it had separated in the fridge.  That hit me so hard.  All that liquid gold and time pumping, preparing for my child to be thrown away from me down the drain.  It hit me hard back then.  I can still feel it.  That is when I really knew where I wanted to be.

Eventually, the day came when I was able to say good-bye to working as a social worker. I was so ready to say good-bye.  While I know I was a great social worker and I did help many students and families during those early years of motherhood, it wasn't what my heart and soul desired any longer.  When "we" finally finished residency years, it was a relief to be able to focus on motherhood, especially with the demands of Andy's career.

There are days I miss the pay check in my name, the reward of completion of a task or seeing a student or family create positive change in their lives.  At times I miss feeling like a professional....to think people actually use to listen to my opinions, they wanted to know what I thought about a student, family situation or crisis.  But it is also that very pressure that I am glad to let go of.

My kids may not always listen, and they may not think I know anything about anything outside of motherhood right now....but I know I do.  I know that I am planting seeds, nurturing them like no one else can and managing the everyday lives of our family because I want to.  Right now that is exactly where I am, where I want to be "real job or not"  it is the most important role I will ever have.  This also made me wonder is it a job only if you are paid for it?  I don't know that that is true....I think the definition of job is dedicating yourself to a passion, a calling, but it can also be dedicating yourself to a task to be able to support yourself.  Perhaps there are many ways to define it, but in my mind it is something you are responsible for, you hopefully love and need to do for whatever emotional or physical reason.  Ultimately, having the choice to be a stay-at-home mother is one of the gifts in my life I am most grateful for.  That choice alone, which isn't for everyone.  It is is a privilege to be able to be a Mom, to guide a soul through this world, whether you work outside the home or not...it is the REALEST most important job in the world.

So, how did I answer Judson's question, "So Mom, when are you going to get a real job?"
me answering in paraphrase-
"A real job?   (with a surprised giggle)  Well, I do have a job, it is the most important job in the world.  Taking care of all of you, feeding you, teaching you right and wrong.... all the things I do.  I am not paid for it, but it is what I want to be doing.   I use to work as a school social worker (and explained that role a bit) before you were born and when you were little...but now Daddy is able to make enough money so I don't have to and can be a full-time Mommy.  Isn't that lucky?"

Judson, "Yep.   When is the pizza getting here?"

Here is my little questioner....Judson-you always get me thinking.

 How I love you and all of your many, many questions!

The Comments, Questions and Answers

Since we began the adoption process we have heard many comments from people and many questions.  "Why are you adopting?"  "Why did you choose Ethiopia?" "That baby will be so lucky"  "You are so wonderful to save a child from that situation"....I could go on and on and on.  I would field the questions, be gracious with the compliments and admiration.  Admiration that is not warranted.  We don't deserve admiration.  We wanted a child.  Yes, wanted.  We chose to bring a child into our family through adoption.    While I understand all of it, I have also been struggling with it.

Since we have come home with Tessa, there have been even more of  COMMENTS and QUESTIONS coming our way.  The comments:  "She is the luckiest baby in the world"  "She won the lottery for families" "I bet you just wanted to bring a bunch of 'them' home with you".  Each comment comes from a kind place that is meant to be a great compliment, but one that is thoughtless all the same.  People don't think about the greater meaning in their comment, not to mention the unspoken assumptions about race, culture and social class.  It isn't fair to slap a child with the "lucky" label because it implies that they are in-debted to you in some way.  She shouldn't have to carry "luck" or being indebted with her as apart of her conscience or her story.  I won't allow it.

Is it lucky to be born in a country stricken with poverty and famine?  Is it lucky that her birth family was not able to care for her?  It is lucky that Tessa will never know her birth family and have so many questions?  Is it lucky that her birth family had to suffer the greatest grief to give their daughter a different life, in order for us to have the greatest joy?  That is not luck.

Of course, as every adoptive parent knows.....we are the ones who are so blessed.  We are the ones that wanted a child and were blessed with a child through adoption.  I do believe I am lucky in many, many ways.  For instance, to be born a woman in America is very lucky.  But I also believe that it is a "God thing".  God brings people into our lives for reasons.  Family and friends.  It is not just luck that Tessa is our daughter or that we are her forever family.  God created her journey to us and our journey to her....it was a complicated journey and involved so many people and one based in love.   The truth is that Tessa has been sooo loved.  She was so loved that she was given a different life.  It was that love in Ethiopia that began her journey to us and our love that began our journey to her.  That is love, not luck.  Only something greater than all of us could bring Tessa into the world and into our family forever.  Only God.  That is not luck.

  Now for the questions:  "What happened to her real mother?", "Do you know anything about her birth family?"  "Is your husband black or is she adopted?" , "Did you meet her mother?", "Do you wonder what her birth parents look like?"   So much curiosity coming at us.

 You can almost see the curiosity in people's eyes, what they are wondering.  I understand it, it is human and natural.  But I find it is so interesting that so many people can't help themselves and ask the most personal questions.  Actually, it is invasive.  It is almost as if because we are very visible as an inter-racial adoptive family that strangers give themselves permission to indulge their curiosity and ask the most personal questions.   When I was asked "What happened to her real mother", I was surprised and gave a generic response "Well, her birth mother was unable to care for her.   My response was meant to re-language her comment of "real mother" and also give an answer that doesn't disclose personal information.  It was the best I could do in the moment, but perhaps it is just the most I can give.  It is Tessa's story and it is not available for other's curiosity.

Now that I am an adoptive mother am I obligated to share my most intimate stories and feelings with a curious stranger?  Am I obligated to try an educate people about the most basic adoption language?  Teach them boundaries?  I know the answers to these questions, but this experience certainly does make you question yourself.

Last week a stranger was told in front of me that Tessa had just come home from Ethiopia by my son's teacher.  I was fine with that, not feeling defensive and instead relishing in Tessa.  The stranger immediately asked with Disneyland type excitement "What is is like THERE?"   The enthusiasm in her voice caught me very off guard.  I responded with confusion to her enthusiasm "What do you mean?"  The stranger responded with her continued excitement "Do you need shots to go there?  It just sounds so exotic!"  I was so surprised and immediately felt defensive of my daughter's country, a country I love, and this woman's complete ignorance.  I said very directly, "Ethiopia is a very beautiful country.  But it is a country with extreme poverty and famine and desperation."  She responds cheerfully, "Oh, so, they aren't exaggerating about what you see on t.v.?"  Now I am dumb-founded.  I responded plainly with a blank face "NO".  End of conversation.

I shouldn't be so surprised, but I am.  I know that I have more knowledge about Ethiopia and Africia than the average person because of my interest and experiences.  Perhaps it is just discouraging to see such lack of awareness.  To witness people be so clueless about something so personal to me.  To see others be so centered here and not look outside their privileged lives here.

The questions, the comments can really feel like an ambush at times.  I know there will be times that I feel like educating someone, there will be times that I don't want to share my feelings and other times that I will.  There will be changes on how I feel about certain questions and comments, but they aren't going to stop. And so, I will take each question and each comment "in" knowing that this is apart of the journey for me and for me to give to Tessa.  I hope to handle the questions and comments with grace knowing that with each comment and each question that I am ultimately going to be preparing Tessa to have boundaries, to respond with grace and to be secure in her story and centered in what she knows for sure about herself and our family.