Knobler - More love, less panic : 7 lessons I learned about life, love, and parenting after we adopted our son from Ethiopia

How Natis Mother Taught Me about Letting Go

O ne day, my wife and I decided to adopt a child from Ethiopia, in spite of the fact that we had two perfectly good children right in our very own home.

We had our first childour son Claywhen wed been married for two years; our daughter, Grace, was born about two and a half years later. One boy, one girl, and that was that. Or at least that was the plan. Id never wanted more than two kids. Truth was, raising two kids kept my wife and me so busy that sometimes it already felt like we had a dozen. And adoption was never something wed considered or even discussed, except in the vaguest we really ought to do something for the world, like adopt a needy orphan or sell all of Clays and Graces toys and give the money to the homeless sort of way. The first time I can really remember my wife and me even really discussing the idea was after Id read an article in our Sunday newspaper about the AIDS crisis in Ethiopia.

The story was straightforward. What Will Become of Africas AIDS Orphans, by Melissa Faye Greene, described how the AIDS epidemic in Ethiopia had left countless children orphaned and in need of care. I suppose Ive read a lot of articles over the years that were similar to that one in some ways, but this was different. The way that story was told moved me in ways that no other story had.

That was my first lesson.

So much of parenting seems to be about control. My children were six and four years old. Because I was a stay-at-home dad, I was in charge of feeding them, dressing them, and getting them to bed at night. In charge. Because thats what parents expect to be. In control. It was, I believed, my job to make my children into successful, intelligent, kind, thoughtful adults capable of professional and personal excellence. Also, my wife wanted grandchildren. But not too soon. I was well meaning, determined, and focused on doing my job as a parent as it was possible to be. After all, I was in charge.

And yet when it came to one of the most important life-changing decisions Id ever make, I was more or less carried along by the current. The paper came. I read an article. I said a few things to my wife. My life changed forever.

EVEN THOUGH MY LIFE was simpler before our third child came home to us, it often felt more complicated. I worried about Graces nap schedule and the all-important question of whether she was getting enough midday sleep. I worried that Clay was far too cautious during recess. Why was he more interested in exploring the cracks on the pavement than in the basketball games being played all around him? Was he aggressive enough to succeed in the world? And what about the food they ate? Clay was a picky eater. Grace wasnt all that fussy, but still I worried.... Living in Los Angeles, where almost everyone we knew had at some point dealt with body issues, had left me worried about how to feed my kids. I wanted Clay to eat enough so hed grow, but I didnt want to put out so much food every day that I somehow wound up contributing to Graces developing any kind of problems later on in her life. It seemed to me then that every choice I made could and would forever determine not only what sort of lives my kids would have but who they would forever be. My life felt more complicated than it does nownot because it actually was more complicated but because I was convinced that my every action could, if properly executed, ensure that my children would lead lives of unending good fortune and success. My life felt complicated and burdensome because I was trying to carry more than anyone really could. I was, in many ways, like a man complaining about how heavy his car is, because hes trying to lift it instead of just getting in and driving.