Some thoughts behind our decision to become adoptive parents:

Rule the World

I could have been a major player in the world of business financing

I could have played a professional sport, or earned my bread by dancing.

Instead I chose to ply my skills at finance to my food bill,

Play childish games and dance while I knead dough that’s from the grist mill.

I chose these things on purpose, with a will that life unfurled

For the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.

I might have found a cure for cancer through hours at a laboratory

Or decorated movie stars with all the fashions mandatory

Instead I succor runny noses, flus and chicken poxes,

And find new ways, adventures and games to play inside of boxes.

I chose these things for love of wings that swirled, and whirled, and twirled,

For the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand the rules the world.

I could have written major works that shaped all of society

I could have changed laws of the land and influenced the mighty.

Instead I chose to read good books to the meekest little lamb,

Keep clean my house, my heart, my child; push babies in the pram.

I do these things to keep at bay the e’erpresent netherworld

For the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.

To use with care the mother’s ware; the force of nature that whirls

To guard the treasures of the earth- more paramount than pearls

These hands are not displaced in realms of fairylands and tears

They fashion giants in our lives who live for scores of years

These hands receive the tiny fingers laid at peace, all curled

For the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.

 I chose these things instead of quests for talents that were “greater”

To have the hours requisite to be like my Creator

Though many times I do not have to choose, ‘potential, or vocation?’

For all the skills that I employ were given in my creation

To slay the dragons of the little worlds, my spear fast-hurled,

For the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.

                                                                                        ~Caitlin Roberts,  3/5/2015

You've heard it in poetry- now for some prose:

I have often felt that there really had been no choice that needed to be made between being a mother or becoming whatever other remarkable thing I could have chosen. I never felt as though I was neglecting to contribute to the world by not pursuing a career. I never felt that my potential talents were wasted in the hours of housekeeping, laundry, and cooking that occupy most of my spare hours (those outside of interacting with my son).

I have also felt that any skills I acquired in college and throughout life would be made most useful by handing them down and teaching them to my children rather than by solely sharing them with coworkers or other adults with whom I interact.

As a mother (even of only four years, on this day of my first son's fourth birthday), I have healed the sick, mended the broken, raised spirits, fed bodies, enriched minds, taught music, taught science, taught philosophy, taught psychology, and taught kindness through the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Some women have desired mother and wife-hood only to feel confused later that they're not fully happy. Then they immerse themselves in hobbies, activities or part-time employment that fulfills the part of them that wants to create, to be artistic, to feel part of the world, instead of to be shut in a house all day. I have known this desire to hone skills I spent hundreds of hours practicing in order for them not to go to waste- it is a commandment to refine our talents.

I also know that one of the characteristics of the Most Divine is that He is a Creator.

It is said that creativity is the best outlet for children who have violent moods and tendencies. Creativity is the moral opposite of violence and destruction, and is therefore typified in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, who created us and this world. Many people have artistic and creative hobbies that tangibly relax them and make them feel at peace.

It is the same for me. Only when I am raising children, instead of being out in the world, I feel that creativity being used for its fullest purpose.  I feel God-like when I am sorting the troubles of my family, using creative, intuitive and educated means to solve problems that arise, from the inside out. But the most God-like I will ever be is when I am with a child, making time for the very real, fascinating, mind-boggling growth they experience daily. When I am dedicated to a child's growth in areas moral, educational, imaginary, emotional, relational, and spiritual, I remember that all children are merely on loan from Heavenly Father. They are His, first, before they are ours, and we have an immense responsibility not only to do them no harm but to lift them, raise their trajectory and teach them the meaning of love.

I have also found that all the skills that I possess can be incorporated into the rearing of my children- skills that don't go to waste there. I have never felt that I would abandon my interests and talents by motherhood, though motherhood in and of itself was artistic: on the contrary. Motherhood would be the greatest stage upon which I could perform, child-rearing the greatest test of my self-control and skill. It would be the greatest way I could bear testimony of my Savior; by instructing the young in His teachings.

What difference is there between my own blood-child and another? If all children are on loan from Heavenly Father anyway, doesn't it matter more who our Heavenly Parents are than our earthly parents?

As Dallin H. Oaks said, “Our theology begins with heavenly parents. Our highest aspiration is to be like them.” Would they want a couple who sees a need for children to have a home wait for a personal invitation from the Lord, or to simply act? Haven't we already been given a personal invitation from the Lord?

(Matt 25:34-40) "Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

I believe these thoughts to be personal revelation, in that it is not requisite of every couple to adopt. But for me, and the way that I worship, it is requisite that I do so, in order to hear on Judgement Day, "Well, done, thou good and faithful Daughter."

Some families have been given their own blood-children who require every ounce of energy and time they have. It wouldn't be right to stretch the parents of these children any further: right for the parents or the children.

But there are couples like us who want more children that aren't coming yet. I feel certain we will have more of our own blood-children, someday. Perhaps the purpose for the pain of the delay of more children is to induce me to look elsewhere to fill the hole, the heartache of feeling capable of giving so much more without the means to.

Our little boy is life-giving. I feel as though I've gotten through the meanest times of my life twice as easy as I would have without him, simply because he exists. His smile lights me up, and my smile lifts him up. The world is not complete until he is in my arms- they feel empty and useless without him.

But even he needs more than just us. He feels the hole, even as we do. I felt strongly when he was several months from being born that he would need the company of other children. And never have I seen a child that delighted in other children such as he does. He's on this journey too, and he's excited. He felt the pain of our losses last year, but his hope as a child is a magical thing- and he hopes for as big of a family as we do. And we're going to have it - one way or another. Perhaps this will be the wildest ride of our lives. Or perhaps this is what Heavenly Father intended all along, and it'll be perfect. Or knowing me, perhaps it's supposed to be both. :)

William Ross Wallace (1819-1881)

THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE CRADLE IS
    THE HAND THAT RULES THE WORLD.

      BLESSINGS on the hand of women!
        Angels guard its strength and grace.
      In the palace, cottage, hovel,
          Oh, no matter where the place;
      Would that never storms assailed it,
          Rainbows ever gently curled,
      For the hand that rocks the cradle
          Is the hand that rules the world.

     

      Infancy's the tender fountain,
          Power may with beauty flow,
      Mothers first to guide the streamlets,
          From them souls unresting grow—
      Grow on for the good or evil,
          Sunshine streamed or evil hurled,
      For the hand that rocks the cradle
          Is the hand that rules the world. 

      Woman, how divine your mission,
          Here upon our natal sod;
      Keep—oh, keep the young heart open
          Always to the breath of God!
      All true trophies of the ages
          Are from mother-love impearled,
      For the hand that rocks the cradle
          Is the hand that rules the world. 

      Blessings on the hand of women!
          Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
      And the sacred song is mingled
          With the worship in the sky—
      Mingles where no tempest darkens,
          Rainbows evermore are hurled;
      For the hand that rocks the cradle
          Is the hand that rules the world.