Book Review: No Biking in the House Without a Helmet by Melissa Fay Greene

A few weeks ago, as I stood with my sons in front of the carousel at the mall, I was approached by someone with a vaguely familiar face. Tracy?, she wondered aloud. It was a high school friend who I haven't seen for the last 19 years. She was with her husband and their beautiful four year old daughter. Immediately, I wondered if their little girl was adopted, since she looked distinctly Latina. I wasn't sure, though, because my friend's husband had dark hair, and I thought maybe he had the dominant genes that were passed on to their daughter. Also...I've learned as an adoptive mom that sometimes you just don't feel like talking about your adoption story every time someone asks. I decided to keep my mouth shut and just enjoy catching up with a long lost friend, but after a few minutes, her husband said, "So I just have to ask. Are your sons adopted?"

As it turned out, their daughter was also adopted, and we had a wonderful conversation about our families' adoption journeys. I learned that my friend's husband had biological children from a previous marriage. Brimming with pride and love for his adopted daughter, he gushed, "It's no different from having biological children!" I knew instinctively what he meant. Of course, the journey that adoptive parents and adopted children take to become a family is very different from the way a biological family is formed. He was simply saying that his love for his adopted daughter was no different from the love he has for his bio kids. His bond with her was no different. She was his daughter--full stop!

As an adoptive mother who will more than likely never give birth to biological children, I have felt the pangs of envy when I see my friends and even perfect strangers with round, pregnant bellies. I have wondered how Brian's genes and my genes would combine--what those strawberry-blonde, freckle-faced cuties would look like. I have longed to be able to nurse a baby at my breast. All these things that in some way I've felt that I'm missing out on, I have grieved and grieved deeply.

However, I've also marveled at some of the things I've experienced as an adoptive mother that biological families will never know. Some of these things are nothing short of miraculous, and I am humbled and honored that God has allowed Brian and me to be part of a life experience so precious and transforming as adoption: the way our sons (with DNA all their own) fit so seamlessly into the fabric of our family. The way Jeremy has his birthm0ther's gleaming white teeth, but he has my smile. The way I felt the first time Zachary was placed in my arms--like Heaven itself had descended to Earth and given me a gift so beautiful, words will never be able to aptly describe it. Suddenly, the tables had turned and instead of feeling sorry for myself, I felt a little bit sorry for those poor fertile couples who will never know this special joy, the uniqueness of this special journey!

Melissa Fay Greene expresses it beautifully in her adoption memoir No Biking in the House Without a Helmet:

Down a narrow, rocky lane we bounced, then parked outside the cement walls of Layla House, AAI's orphanage. Selamneh [my driver] honked for admission. I was beside myself with excitement and a kind of stage fright. For the second time in my life I prepared to meet a child who was going to call me Mama.

There can be no other demarcation of time, no other "life-cycle event" as significant a crossing-over as this one. Marriage is momentous, but in most of the modern world, brides and grooms stand at the altar beside their beloved. Childbirth is a major event, but it, like marriage, follows a deep prior connection. Now the elderly guard pulled open the gates and I prepared to meet a person who would join, and change, my life permanently.

I remember that moment with both of my children. That first meeting that would change my life forever, for the best!

No Biking in the House is a wonderful book, detailing the path her family took as it grew from a family with four biological kids to a family with nine kids total (the additional five by adoption from Bulgaria and Ethiopia). Greene is a masterful wordsmith and I enjoyed the story of how her family came to be as much as I enjoyed the way she wrote about it!

Her tone is loving, her stories both triumphant and heartbreaking, but her style is never preachy. After I finished the book this morning, I had to spend some time processing the myriad feelings I had--joy, heartbreak, and a burden to do something to help make a change in the world. I realized as I processed these feelings what a genius Greene is--she inspired so much thought in me without ever hammering me over the head with it! She simply told her family's story, and in doing so reminded me what a big difference a family can make.

The Help

Last night, I stayed up suuuuuuuper late to finish reading The Help. I really wanted to finish it before I see the movie. Can't wait!

As I mentioned in a previous post, we have had a nanny this summer (who is an old friend of mine), and she has been a huge help with the boys, not to mention a wonderful friend to me. Her name is Rebeca, and the two of us often find ourselves rolling our eyes/snickering at Jeremy because, oh my stars...the boy is so BOSSY!

"Mama, me ketchup!" he demands if he wants ketchup for his fries.

"Beca, me get down!" when he is ready to get out of his high chair.

We are constantly letting him know that bossing around any adult is a no-no, but as Rebeca says, "He is a real "jefazo" (bossy dude).

Hearing my black son boss around his white nanny struck me as such a wild juxtaposition against the scenes I've been reading in The Help, which is all about the black maids of the 1960s and the white families they served/the white children they raised. I'm so thankful for the courage of the civil rights activists of the '60s. It is not at all lost on me that our adoption of our beautiful African-born boys would have been absolutely unheard of just 50 years ago, and very likely frowned upon by our society.

I know that we, as a country, still have some serious strides to make in terms of overcoming our racial prejudices. Looking back, though, I'm so thankful for how far we've come over the past 50 years. My sons are growing up in a different America, and I hope with all my heart that no door will ever be closed to them because of their race.

I can't wait to see Jeremy's journey unfold before him. He such an amazing boy--loving, smart, communicative, and handsome! Now if I can just get him to stop bossing me around!

Book Review: FROM ASHES TO AFRICA--A MEMOIR

When Brian and I began talking seriously about adoption, I spent hours scouring the internet for information.  I found blogs to be the best source of information, as they were typically first-hand experiential accounts of people who were sharing their thoughts as they were going through the same process we would soon embark on ourselves.

The very first Ethiopian adoption blog I "stumbled" upon was Ethiopia or Bust, authored by Amy Bottomly. I write "stumbled" in quotes only because in retrospect, I can see that it was more a divine appointment than a random stumbling that landed me there. As it turns out, the Bottomlys are one of the better-known adoptive couples in the Ethiopian adoption community, as they were one of the first families to adopt from Ethiopia, and they were definitely one of the first to write a book about it!

From Ashes to Africa is Josh and Amy Bottomly's story of their journey from the "ashes" of a troubled marriage and infertility to the "gladness" of adopting their son Silas from Ethiopia.

The book begins with a quote from Frederick Buechner, "Writing is really quite simple; all you have to do is sit down at your typewriter and open a vein."  And that is just was this couple did! The major thing that makes the book such a compelling read is the openness and vulnerability with which it is written.

Let me share a few of my favorite quotes from the book with you:

"Any time art touches your life with tears, whether through a story, song, film, or painting, it was wise to pay attention to those tears because your tears could help you find your heart. And if you found your heart, you found what was dear to God. If you found what was dear to God, you found the answer to how you should live your life."

This (above) quote was particularly meaningful to me, as I sensed that God might be calling us to international adoption, when I was moved to tears during the movie Slumdog Millionaire. I actually had to leave the theatre and go cry in the bathroom because the injustice to orphans depicted in that film so stirred my heart.

I was also incredibly impressed with the thoughtful way they shared how they have struggled emotionally and spiritually since meeting their baby's biological mother:

"I still feel a flood in my throat every time I think of saying goodbye to Hermela [the baby's birth mother]. I'm almost certain the entirety of my feelings in that moment will remain forever ineffable. Ambivalence is perhaps the best word I can muster to describe how I felt. Part of me felt the rightness of God fulfilling a dream of ours, the rightness of God meeting a need of Hermela's, and the rightness of Hermela's courage and sacrifice.  The other part of me felt the wrongness of adoption, the wrongness of broken families, and the wrongness of abject poverty....

In an ideal world, Hermela would never have had to give up her child for adoption--for whatever reasons....  In an ideal world, infertility would be nothing more than a footnote in the annals of medical history....  [All] of us on some level feel the wrongness of the world in our core. And maybe what that means is that until people like Hermela don't have to give up their children to infertile couples like us, none of us are meant to feel at peace in our skin."

I appreciated that the Bottomlys didn't try to paint a perfect picture or try to tie the loose ends of their feelings about their adoption into a neat and tidy bow. In a broken world, some things will always feel broken, even if they are redeemed, and that is okay.

"There are times, though, when I will recall moments from my journey to Ethiopia, and I will think to myself that Silas could have so easily grown up to become like the street children who approached our car, barefoot and ragged, their eyes hollowed with hunger, their hands cracked and callous as they begged for loose change.  When I think about that, along with meeting Hermela and seeing many of the children at the orphanage, and I think about how my adoption journey with Josh has changed everything from my marriage to my family, from my faith to my dreams, I quietly realize this truth:  maybe all along, I needed Silas more than Silas needed me."

I heartily recommend From Ashes to Africa to anyone considering adopting from overseas, as well as to anyone who is simply curious about international adoption.

Book Review: RED LETTERS by Tom Davis

What if all Christ-followers lived the Red Letter words in the Bible--Jesus' words? What if we offered the hungry something to eat, gave one of our many coats to someone who was cold, and truly loved all our neighbors as ourselves? How radically different would our lives be? How different would our world be if Christians were really living as little Christs?

That's what this book is about. Learning to live a faith that is so real, you bleed Jesus. Here's how to start:  Look for Jesus every morning in the eyes of people you meet. And then look for him in the mirror.

-RED LETTERS by Tom Davis

Indeed, the world would be transformed if I chose to serve others as if they were Jesus Himself! Indeed the world would be a different place if I remembered daily that I am called to be Jesus to the world around me...to be His hands and feet in service to the hurting world around me.

~If you've ever struggled to wrap your mind around the HIV/AIDS pandemic that is wiping out countries in Africa...

~If you've ever been frustrated because you don't know how in the world you can make a bit of difference...

~If you've ever read the red lettered words of Jesus in the Bible about caring for the orphan and the widow, and thought "That's nice, but I don't know any orphans or widows"...

~If you're a little disgusted with yourself because you know that the life you live is a luxurious one in comparison to 98% of the rest of the world and you know you aren't helping the way you'd like to be--the way you know you should...

This is the book for you!  It really has me thinking about poverty and how I ought to get involved. We are called to be God's hands and feet in the world, and this book really made me see that I can do much more to reach out with compassion.

The question I am now asking myself is:  What will I do?  (The book gives a ton of suggestions, by the way, of how to get involved.)