Everybody in the family helps to make the adoption a success. Children in the family help decide who should be adopted. And waiting children speak up.

Here are some examples:

• When nine year old Vickie and her parents went to court, she told the judge she didn’t just want to be adopted – she wanted to adopt her family also. So the judge prepared an adoption document for her to sign, reminding her that being a successful family is about giving as well as getting. And she adopted them all – grandparents included.

• Heather went online and submitted inquiries for the children that she thought would fit in her family. When our staff responded and asked a few questions, Heather said that since she is 12 years old, she’d need to discuss it with her parents. She did, and they moved forward.

• Jacob was pretty impressed by a family he met at an adoption party. He and his siblings had been separated into two foster homes. They were so, so glad to see each other and get a chance to play together at the party. But Jason was working the room, so to speak. And he found what he was looking for. So he told his caseworker, “They’d be a good family for me and my brothers and sister.” He was right, and they’re a family now.

Behavior management is a pretty cold term. Who wants to do behavior management? People don’t adopt in order to spend their time managing behavior. People adopt because they want relationships.

Jeffrey Haugaard, Ph.D, reported on research conducted at Cornell University. Behavior management (there’s that term again!) of two parent families who had adopted school aged children were studied.

Dr. Haugaard reported that couples who agree on their behavior management methods had success. Couples who disagreed were raising children whose behavior continued to get worse.

The research suggests that the method of behavior management is less important than agreeing.

So that might mean that adoptive couples would benefit more from intervention for themselves on how to arrive at agreement than they would from training on how to manage difficult behavior.

Like most things in life, the outcomes have everything to do with relationships.

It’s a legal process. It is a social process (extended family, neighbors, friends). And it is an emotional process (for everyone).

Janeen’s foster parents were pretty excited when they told her they’d decided to adopt her. They’d thought about it for a long time. And they were ready to make a permanent commitment to love her, keep her safe, and make her part of their family for always.

Since Janeen was a teenager, Chuck and Judy knew her reaction could range from elation to anger. But she projected a ho-hum sort of response. And she let the process proceed. The family went to court, the judge finalized the adoption. And Janeen went back to school.

On the surface of daily living not much had changed.

Later that year Janeen and her mom were out running errands for the family, when Janeen stopped and caught her breath. She pointed to a specific window in an apartment building and said, “That’s where my first mom lives. I used to live there.”

The two stood and stared at the building for a few minutes. Then Judy asked her daughter what she wanted to have happen. Janeen said, “I want to know if she’s still there.” They talked it over and decided to walk right up and ring the bell. So they did. And it was Janeen’s birth mom who opened the door.

All three stood in a stunned and awkward silence for a moment, and then Judy and Janeen were invited to go in. Tears were shed. Promises were made, and Janeen left the apartment of her birth mom expecting to see her again soon.

The appointed day for the next reunion meeting came and went. No birth mom. Janeen’s birthday passed without the promised contact. More waiting. More silence.

Janeen’s mom and dad waited with her. They listened to her anger, and they caught the tears that flowed from her disappointment and hurt. And then – Janeen began to let them into her heart.

Attachment takes time.

Parenting came first. Chuck and Judy put their love out there for Janeen months before she was ready to reach out and claim it.

She had some internal work to do before she was ready to allow herself to be adopted in the final, emotional sense. Now they really are a family.

If you watch our website closely, you will notice that sometimes a child’s photograph is removed for a period of time. It may be that a family appears to be a good match and plans are underway. Or there may be other factors.

Here is the story told by the mother of one of those children whose photograph disappeared for a while, and then returned:

When Ryan got put back on The Adoption Exchange listing as available by himself because his brother had gotten placed, I saw the listing right away because back then I was monitoring listings nearly daily.

I submitted an inquiry and his caseworker responded immediately. We talked, and she linked me to speak with Ryan’s therapist and with his foster mother. It was sounding like a good fit. Then my husband and I … spent a couple hours reviewing [agency] documentation, which did not scare us off, but confirmed we were on the right track.

There were a number of steps in the process. There were people to meet, life books, sharing of photographs, visits, and conversations.

And then Ryan to his very own family. Now his photograph is gone from our website for good. His mom says, “I dearly love my new son, he is an absolute treasure.”

I recently got another opportunity to see life from a long view. I got to meet a woman who discovered Wednesday’s Child on television when she was just a child herself. She couldn’t imagine life without belonging in a family. And so she saved a part of her allowance every week, and regularly asked her mom to bring her to the office where she made a donation to give other children a chance for a future.

That little girl has grown up into a woman in her thirties with a husband and a plan to be a mom herself. And she hasn’t forgotten the children who captured her heart when she was in elementary school. It is quite possible her family will be formed through adoption. And here comes the next generation.

My friend and poet, Willa Beach once penned, “Life ripples out from the center.” That’s for sure. It ripples out from the heart.

Last week I got to spend a little time with Lisa, who was adopted from foster care. Lisa’s twelve year old daughter and her mom joined us for lunch. There in front of my eyes were three generations who are living out the promise we call adoption.

Now and then it’s good to look at life over a span of time. It’s tempting to take a “snap-shot” sort of view at the moment of the adoption placement or court finalization. But we know those moments are just two of many milestones.

Another tempting moment to take a “snap-shot” is when there are challenges. Every family has them. Not one of those moments defines the entire family experience, either.

There are years of living and loving and working things through between every milestone. That’s why the long view is useful.

Lisa’s life is completely different from the abuse and neglect she left behind when she entered foster care. And the lives of her adoptive family and friends have been changed, too.

Today her adoptive parents, siblings, aunts, uncles and grandparents can’t imagine their lives without her. She is a tutor for children with learning disabilities who might not have had a teacher with Lisa’s empathy if she hadn’t been given the opportunities to grow and thrive.

Poet James Kavanaugh said “genealogies are changed,” and he was right. Lisa is a wife and mother of three children.

And her children — the third generation — have never had to worry about being safe, having regular meals, and knowing love.

It can be painful and cathartic to remember. Every time we ask the young people to talk about their experiences that brought them into foster care or happened to them through the foster care journey, we are asking them to summon considerable courage.

Remembering heals. And it instructs.

Antoinette is turning 20 years old this year. She was 14 when she shared her memories in this poem.

I Remember

I remember the loudness of the street
I remember being alone
I remember moving place to place
I remember crying because of bad times
I remember feeling scared
I remember going to new places
I remember seeing strange people everywhere
I remember a place with a mom and dad
I remember a fall that left me a scar
I remember being pushed around
I remember not having a solid foundation
I remember every new day as the same old day
I remember sitting alone and thinking
I remember the feeling of joy
I remember wanting to be loved
I remember the help that came from above
I remember the strength I never had
I remember feeling weak
I remember being broken
I remember the only face to make me laugh in a long time
I remember the actual feeling of having
a mom to call mine
I remember the day of my glory
I remember my life as a great big story
I remember the ocean where my journey began.

In their “Home at Last” project The Pew Commission on Children in Foster Care invited youth to describe their memories in words, poetry, and art. They compiled these into a book titled My Voice, My Life, My Future. It’s available online at www.pewtrusts.org.

I’m grateful to Antoinette for sharing her memories in her poem can be found in this book.

Jake has visual proof of what happens over time. When you’re up close, the changes are almost imperceptible. But after a bit of time, if you step back and look again, you see it. The proof is right in front of you.

The proof is in the photographs Jake shows us.

Several years ago he and Sandra adopted a sibling group. Their first family photograph brought tears. Everyone was smiling. All of us who saw the picture couldn’t keep from smiling and crying.

All of their hope for the future is evident in Jake’s and Sandra’s smiles. You can see their confidence in their roles as parents. You can see how eager they are to grab those children and hold them close. We can’t help but share their pride.

The new children, on the other hand, are smiling for the camera. They like the attention they’re getting. They’ve been groomed and coached, and they’ve cooperated for the photographer. But they are not smiling from their hearts. All in all it is a great picture of a collection of two happy, hopeful adults posed with a sibling group of cooperative children.

I can imagine little clouds over the heads of each of the people in the picture like you see in cartoons. One of the boys is thinking “I can’t wait to go ride that big wheel again.” While Sandra is thinking, “I’ve been waiting for this moment. This is the culmination of many months of waiting and planning and paperwork.” Jake’s cloud tells us, “Well, here we are. We did it! They belong to us now.”

A year later the family photograph documents some changes. The children are quite a bit taller, and their smiles seem more relaxed. The cloud over Sandra’s head says, “I think they are learning to love me.” Jake’s says, “I’m a pretty good dad most of the time.”

A few years later it is strikingly evident. All of the attention created by the newness of the adoption has worn off. Friends and teachers let Jake, Sandra and the kids blend into the community. In this photograph the faces and body language reflect a real family.

On National Adoption Day Judge Boatright said, “Adoption is a promise acted out over a lifetime.” He got that right. A lot happens between photo-shoots. There are quarrels, disciplinary meetings at school, music lessons, family therapy, picnics, birthdays, home work, learning to ride bikes, report cards, hugs, packing lunches, flu shots, doing laundry, playing sports, and so on.

Becoming a family is not an event. It happens over time. Post-adoption services are available to help families keep their promises. Click here to learn about lending libraries, support groups, qualified therapists, training workshops, newsletters, and more.