How do you love a child who isn’t yours?

and other questions people ask our family.

Our family is complicated. Confusing even. The conversations that happen around our breakfast table or in the van make me chuckle when I think of how these conversations would be perceived if they were overheard by someone on the outside. Terms like “Grandma”, “brother” and “Birth Mom” are thrown around with definitions that might not make sense to people without an in-depth explanation.

Recently, when we out at garage sales in our community, we were looking for a bike for our grandson, Mr. E and Mr. D’s little brother, Lil’ D. We were blessed to find a bike just his size and he was all ready to take off on it, so I asked him “Do you want Grandma to get that for you?” Then I heard the question that is so common when people overhear that “Grandma” title being used in reference to my 37 year-old self, “Oh, she looks way too young to be a grandma.” It was actually said between the ladies at the cash box, but it was definitely said to be overheard by myself. “Our family is complicated.” I said. I could have, probably should have, left it at that. It wasn’t their business. But I was compelled to explain. I’m not sure why. Maybe because I enjoy sharing our family’s story to educate others. Or maybe because sometimes I enjoy the shock-factor. So I gently approached and offered “Our family is built through foster care adoption. We adopted our eldest son as a teenager, and our youngest two are his biological sons. This is their little brother.” I have to tell you that I have never gotten a negative response from this type of explanation, but I do often get gushing comments of “Oh! I am so thankful that there are people like you.” Or the most cringe-worthy of all comments “I could never do what you do. I would just love them too much to give them up.”

Ugh. Don’t say that. Ever. And there are so many variations to it.

I get it. It’s outside of what you consider the norm. But it is our norm. This is how our family is and was built.

Do I love my kids or the kids that have come through our home less because I was willing to risk pain in my heart to love them? Absolutely not!

Or maybe I do. I don’t know how to compare the love and commitment I have between a child placed with us for a short time, or an adopted child, to a child that has come from mine and my husband’s bodies because I have not experienced that biological happening.

I’ve thought about it actually. Maybe there is a disconnect in my heart that allows me to care for whatever children are around me whatever the circumstances. Is it a shallow love? I don’t think so, but like I said, I only know how to love the children that have been given to me with the love and compassion that God has supplied me.

So how do I love a child that didn’t come from my body? They show up. They need a parent, a source of love, security, and authority. I show up and provide that. I allow my heart to connect to theirs and I allow them to connect to me. I say “yes” to being responsible for the life and well being of that child for as long or as short as that is determined. Are my commitment levels different between children who are here temporarily and those that have been claimed as ours forever? Yes, because practically they have to be. My level of authority in decision making is different for my grandson who is in his mother’s custody than for my grandsons that we have adopted. I have to have long-term commitment plans for the children that are in my home and in our family for the forever. We build traditions together, and memories, and bonds that go deep. But that doesn’t mean that the love is different, just the priorities and commitments.

And to you, reader, or random person in Costco who is baffled by our family’s structure and our decision to open our home to “strangers”, I offer you this; You are more capable of love than you know. You are more capable to care for others than you are giving yourself credit for. If you worry about “loving too much”, than quite possibly you have an abundance of compassion that some child, or elderly person, or family in crisis, is in desperate need of.

So go ahead and ask the questions, but be ready to hear an answer instead of an excuse. I am tempted at times to reply back with a snarky attitude like “I’m so sorry that you don’t have love to share with someone in need.” or “You’re so right! Giving love, safety, and stability to a child in need, even though it might hurt, is definitely not worth it.” But I won’t, because you haven’t been in my shoes. But I will tell you what a blessing it is to be called Grandma by a little person who doesn’t share my genes, and what a miracle he is, and what a joy it is to be included in his life. Maybe that will prompt your heart to ask yourself the hard questions about what it means to love.