5 Things I Wish I'd Known Before Adopting a Child with Special Needs

September 26, 2016 Michelle Cuthrell

Three and a half years ago, my husband and I fell in love with an 18-month-old boy from China.

He was precious.

He was perfect.

And he had medical special needs.

Having two biological children of our own at the time, we had no prior experience with caring for children with medical needs. And although my sweet hubby was a physician assistant very eager to love on a child he could provide for in our home, both of us, at times, wondered if we were really equipped to care for a child who would require multiple surgeries and daily assistance of some sort, especially when we had two other superheroes in our home already.

Distant friends told us this would too drastically change our lives. Acquaintances told us our biological children would be ruined. People who heard our story asked why we would choose to disrupt our comfortable life — the life with two children in a comfortable home and no health issues to worry about. Especially when we had no idea what we were doing.

There were seconds, moments, throughout the adopting process when, even as we LONGED to hurry the process and hold the sweet man we had nicknamed Superman in our arms, we wondered if these people were right. If God really knew what He was doing. If we were really the Kents for the job.

It turns out, we didn’t know what we were doing. And God did. And those people with their sweet protective hearts and their very good intentions — their opinions, combined with our fear, could have robbed us of one of the greatest blessings of our lives.

THIS is what adoptive parent Michelle knows now that she wishes paper pregnant Michelle would have known then. Because the world was very good at preparing us for the HARD parts of adopting a child with special needs … and very silent on the topic of the BLESSINGS.

I invite you to join me HERE at Beautiful in His Time to read the rest of the story.

Yes, He's My Real Son and Other Answers to Awkward Questions

September 21, 2016 Michelle Cuthrell

Over the years, onlookers, gapers and completely conspicuous gawkers have asked all the awkward questions — the questions that more people than you believe ask of a family who clearly looks “different” from other families.

Our team, we sometimes stick out in a crowd. One, because our energetic boys are usually leaping and jumping and poking sticks at each other THROUGH said crowd, and two, because one member of our team was clearly born in a different country. Of course, throw in the fact that said member is the most contagiously charismatic creature you have ever met and ALSO dons a wrist brace in the subtle color of construction cone orange, and people everywhere somehow feel entitled to ask questions they would never ask of families with children who resembled their parents and WEREN’T wearing prosthetics that nearly glowed in the dark.

In our two and a half years with Superman in our home, grocery store clerks, Costco shoppers and park patrons have asked if this boy we love so much is our “real” son, if I am “the Asian lady’s nanny” and if we “resorted” to finding a child in China because we couldn’t have our own children. But perhaps my favorite question of all time came from the commissary bagger who, as she helped me load milk and eggs into the back of my car, asked me if I had me an Asian man on the side.

Oh yes, I thought in my head. But shhh, don’t tell my husband. When this one popped out, he didn’t notice. Let’s keep the secret for a bit longer, shall we?

DJ Changed Our Story

September 14, 2016 Michelle Cuthrell

We weren’t planning on hosting a child again so soon.

Our month with DJ, the 10-year-old superhero-in-waiting we hosted over the summer, was truly a milestone in our family’s lives. He wrecked our hearts and opened our eyes, and all of us decided hosting was something we absolutely wanted to do as a family once a year.

We just thought we’d WAIT a year before doing it again.

Until the email arrived in my box.

Someone Else's Child

August 16, 2016 Michelle Cuthrell

It’s a wonderful and humbling feeling knowing you are responsible for someone else’s child.

Since DJ’s fabulous forever family stepped up to submit the paperwork to make this sweet superhero their own two weeks ago, I’ve been acutely aware that this amazing 10-year-old boy who chops onions and garlic in my kitchen and walks around the house in a robe and underwear (please forgive us, Harder family, for transmitting our boys’ hatred of clothing to YOUR sweet boy this summer!) is not MINE. His last name and family affiliation will soon belong to someone else.

He is someone else’s CHILD.

So as I’ve loved on and encouraged and “raised” someone else’s child for a month, I’ve found myself being more careful. Using more caution. Exercising more intentionality. Practicing more patience. And I’ve found myself viewing this boy’s words and actions and curiosity and exploration through a totally different lens.

The Halfway Mark of Superman's Story

July 27, 2016 Michelle Cuthrell

I have been wishing for this day for, it seems like, forever.

Some days, I’ve prayed this day would come more quickly, like on those first post-adoption days when temper tantrums and melt-downs were the welcome-to-the-United-States norms. When even a soft and gentle “no” followed by a “try this instead” yes led to a deep, grief-stricken cry and a quiver lip that, when it still emerges from time to time, totally broke my heart.

When anything perceived as rejection caused and still causes total withdrawal.

Other days, I’ve wished that each fragment of each second would just slow itself down. We’ve already missed so many moments, and this little boy we just adore has missed so much. Time can’t slow down enough, it seems, to make up for the minutes of our baby’s childhood that we’ll never, ever get back.

But I no longer have to wonder what today will feel like. Because Superhero 3 turned 5 years old yesterday. He came to us at 2 1/2. Which means that today, for the first day in his life, our Superman will know what it’s like to live INSIDE a family longer than he’s lived OUTSIDE of one. And every day after today is a weight we place on the other side of the knowing-family scale.

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