The Road to You

On this day in 2015 I danced with Anne Marie to the sound of a lady singing karaoke, as that lady did every night of the week while we were in Nanjing, China. A whole group of ladies would join in, and they would sing and dance for hours into the night. The first time we encountered each other I had yet to meet Anne. They invited me to dance with them and I did. A few nights later I got to dance with Anne and the same group of ladies. I look at this picture and notice how many are looking at us. I wonder what they were thinking. I wonder if any of them had lost a family member to adoption. I wonder if they worried about her not knowing her culture because of me being a white American. I wonder if they would be proud of the way she is being raised. Adoption leaves a lot to wonder about. I don’t want to let Anne down, her country of origin down, her birth family down, or especially my God that has allowed me to be the one she calls mom. Adoption was not plan A for my daughter or her birth family. Plan A would be no broken families. Plan A wouldn’t start with loss. Plan A wouldn’t leave a birth mom with empty arms. Plan A would be daughter’s who share their mother’s eyes. Plan A no one misses out on watching their child grow up. But we don’t live in a plan A world. We live in a plan B and C type world where pain and loss exist. Where adoption, grief, and the need for our redemption exist. Beauty comes from the ashes of fire experienced. I’m ok being the plan B mom. I hope I make plan A mom proud because the roles easily could have been reversed. To whom much is given, much is required. I remember this always. I’ve been given much, and someone else has lost much. I pray all three of us spend eternity together so plan A mom can finally experience her daughter in the way our God intended. #mydaughter #anothermomsdaughtertoo #adoption #lookingforwardtoeternity #itisanhonortobeplanB